#i wanna flesh this stuff out soon...maybe make some art for it. soon probably

[griffinsmith]

Whoohoo another (smaller) dump of words regarding everyones favorite/least favorite jackal from marleybone. This time talking a little bit about mr Hound. It aint much but i wanted to get some of this somewhere like last time

Ok say it with me now everyone so we can all hear it: this aint canon at all and is based purely off of my own need to make a more fleshed out backstory for this stupid one off character that was created to be a shallow, throw-away boss to a dungeon. No one’s ever given me grief for making hc posts but I figured its best to clarify just to be safe.

  -  Like ive mentioned before, Dr Jackall is Barkingham Palace’s mechanical engineer, brought on board to make their security systems better. Dude knows how to fiddle with robots and disable/break security systems that you have to deal with in the dungeon, so I attribute the latter to him knowing the insides of the castle like the back of his hand (and knowing how to make it go kaput).

- Now with that being said, hes not necessarily very liked at the palace. Sure, hes not hated, but hes not exactly invited over for tea by any of the other palace staff. This is caused mainly by how hes much too wrapped up with his own little inventions and work to really care about social stuff (plus adhd/autism. This is my post I get to add neurodivergency to my favorite characters if I want. He’s super passionate abt potions and applying magic to things to make them better so hes in his own world w that stuff) He doesn’t really care…that much

- His science lab is also a repurposed custodial closet. Sure there aint a lot of room, but its enough room to invent in and the rents free.

- Now 4 mr hound stuff. Jackall once proposed to the queen and some of her council that to protect the castle, maybe they should tap into Moon Magic. Think about it, he says, a job it takes 10 royal guards to do could be done by only 5 if they were able to turn into stronger, better versions of themselves. Of course, moon magic isn’t practiced very much, if at all, in Marleybone, and the most common moon school spell transformations are pretty ineffective in battle, plus its only used in battle which renders it useless to physical fights. Buuuuuut given some time and money, Jackall promised he could create his own transformation that would be actually strong, and work both inside and outside of battle. He thought it was a pretty good idea, and that everyone would love it.

- Naturally, no one loved it. Shut Jackall down real fast. The royals quickly made it clear they did not want to be tampering with magic, let alone magic that they didn’t understand. The royal guards they had were good enough as is, thank you very much. Not even Jackall’s closest palace staff member friend, Chief Whip, liked the idea. If you want to make yourself truly useful, Jackall, go unclog the toilets in the state wing.

- After throwing a silent temper tantrum while unclogging said bathrooms, Jackall decided he didn’t need the queen or her money or anyones support. Certainly not the support of one of his only friends. He could create that alchemical solution all on his own! Use it himself! Get out of this stupid twink weak body and into a stronger one that didn’t listen to anyone.  Free of moral compass and reason and blah blah blah you remember the monologue he gave.

- It took a whole lot of trial and error before he managed to get the solution right. Jackall is  pretty bad in wizarding; his talent lies in enchanting items to make himself stronger and potion brewing, so it took him forever to master what makes moon magic tick. (The only reason his battle can be so darn tricky is because of all those cheats. Lay off the shields and man up already) After many many many visits to celestia’s moon school teacher and plenty of concoctions exploding in his face, Jackall managed to craft the iconic nickelodeon-slime green potion we know and love today.

- The Mr Hound transformation is slightly unique in the sense that it can exist both in and outside of battle; It can be used as just a normal transformation that you can buy in the crowns shop but acts also like a polymorph in the sense that it changes the user’s school and spell deck (I know that this feature was briefly shown in the Ivar Anderson fight in grizzlehiem but that was for like 3 seconds) However, because it functions for both inside and outside of battle, the transformation is short. It only lasts in 15 minute bursts outside of battle, and 4 rounds inside. If only there were a way to make it permanent…hmm.

That’s it for now, hope this wasnt too much of a mess! 

[sunrisefairy]

My muse

Pairing: Art student!Sirius x reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, if I’ve forgotten anything please let me know! Summary: Sirius is struggling with an art assignment until he finds inspiration in his girlfriend. Or the one when Sirius and reader bang on a canvas.  A/N: wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen writing challenge, I had a lot of fun with this one Jill so I hope you enjoy it too. Based of the prompt Art Sex. This article is helpful with visualising the art work!

Taglist: if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut​ @anxiousblanketqueen​ @accioweaslcy​ @widowdays​ @inglourious-imagines​ @garbdump​ @star-sunshine-sage​ @weelittleweasley​ @a-dusty-emerald​ @starlightkell​ @omghufflepuff​ @weasleysprincess​ @j-amespotter​ @gryffindorgirl To be added to the taglist click here 

“Oh my god this is fucking bullshit!” Sirius groans before throwing his paint brush, it landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor of his art studio.

You hear all the commotion from the kitchen and decided to check in on your boyfriend. It was nearing the end of the term and Sirius had been very agitated and snappy from all the stress.

“You okay babe?” you poke your head through the door to see Sirius standing in the middle of the room, practically death staring a half-finished painting resting on one of his wooden easels.

“Fucking bullshit,” your boyfriend mumbles, clenching and unclenching his paint stained hands.

You slowly walk up to him and wind your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his white cotton t-shirt, “wanna talk to me about it?” you whisper.

Sirius twists in your grip until he’s facing you allowing you to get a good look at him; his shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched tightly from the pressure of school and his eyebrows are furrowed which has become a regular facial expression of him the past few weeks. You reach your hand up and delicately trace the worry lines in his forehead. Sirius immediately relaxes at your touch; his faces becomes more natural and his shoulders slump. Since dating Sirius you’ve come to understand how much he struggles to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like dumping his problems on those around him as it makes him feel like a burden. So you try your best to be patient with him and always remind him you’ll be here no matter what.

“Just stressed about school,” Sirius murmurs his eyes looking down at the floor between your bodies.

You let your hand fall down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing, “yeah? What about school?”

Sirius’ hands find their way under the t-shirt you’re wearing which evidently is one of his that you’ve stolen, he lets his fingers trace patterns on your warm skin. “Just this one assignment is making me go insane. Can’t seem to get it right.” He gestures to the canvas sitting in the middle of the room.

If you’re being honest, anything Sirius paints leaves you memorised and evokes numerous emotions from you. You are constantly telling your boyfriend how talented he is and every time he’ll roll his eyes at your compliment. “I think it looks amazing babe,” you state truthfully.

To no surprise, Sirius rolls his eyes at your comment. “yes, well you have to say that ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Sirius leaves your embrace and walks back over to the painting, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning so intensely you think laser beam might shoot from his eyes and through this artwork. He starts mumbling again, irritation is laced thickly on his words, “representation of raw love,” he mocks, “what a load of utter crap. My professor is so pretentious, the only instruction he gives us for this stupid bloody assignment is ‘make a piece which represents raw love’ what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it is, it’s fucking bullshit.”

You shuffle closer to Sirius so you’re standing at his side, both staring at his current piece. You’re not really sure how to help, you’re no artist but you hate seeing Sirius so worked up. “What are other people in your class doing for the assignment? Maybe you can gather inspiration from them?”

Sirius shrugs and stuffs his hands in his dark jeans which are covered in paint splatters, “Kirra’s doing a photography piece of her husband and kids, Gage is making some sculpture of his dog.”

“Alright,” you pause for a brief moment “well maybe think of ways people show love or how you show love, like real emotional love ya’know?” you feel like you’re grasping at straws here and making up some bullshit.

You glance over at Sirius, he’s biting his bottom lip deep in thought, you stay silent not really knowing what else to say to assist him. Slowly a look of realisation washes over your boyfriend’s face, eyes wide and a grin gracing his lips. “Holy shit baby, you’re a genius!”

Butterflies erupt deep in your belly from the praise and you giggle when Sirius starts peppering your face with tiny kisses to show his gratitude. Eventually he connects your lips together in what you thought would be a short but sweet kiss. However, you squeak in surprise when Sirius quickly deepens the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist before slowly moving them down to grope at your arse.

“You should probably get working on your project then Sirius,” you breathe against his mouth, disappointed to stop things before they get too heated but you know Sirius’ inspiration comes and goes in waves and if you wait until after the two of you get off, then he might fall back into feeling unmotivated again.

“I am working on it,” you pull away confusion all over your face.

“What do you mean?” you query.

Sirius chuckles and moves away from you to move the canvas and easel to the edge of the room out of the way, he starts laying out a large piece of cream canvas fabric on the floor. “Think about it, what’s a way people show love?” he asks you, squirting numerous colours of paint carelessly onto the fabric.

“Babe there’s a lot of way people show love,” you answer puzzled, what did making out with you have to do with his piece? And why was he now squirting colours onto a blank canvas.

Sirius continues, “yes I know that but what about a raw, emotional way people show love? a primal way to show love so to speak?”

When you finally look back up at Sirius’ face you’re met with a cheeky smirk that you know all too well. It’s not until he removes his shirt do you connect the dots. “Sirius I’m not letting you fuck me on this canvas for a university project for god’s sake.”

The raven-haired boy’s grin only widens as he slowly moves closer to you, his eyes burning into your skin. You feel hot and vulnerable under his gaze, it’s like he’s stalking his prey. Your breath hitches in your throat when Sirius’ body is pressed flush against your own and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face as he speaks in a low, hushed tone, “I’m not going to fuck you,” his voice drops an octave like it does when he’s feeling horny. Just the tone of his voice alone causes a wetness to pool in your panties. “Wanna make love to you baby. Wanna show you how much I love you, can I do that darlin’?”

You bite your lip trying to swallow the moan that is threatening to spill from your mouth when Sirius starts leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Damn Sirius Black for knowing all your weak spots.

“Just want to make you feel good baby girl,” he tugs the off t-shirt your body. “Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?”

You close your eyes and focus on Sirius’ large hands cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly, you always were putty in his hands. Fuck it you thought. “Yes, please make love to me Sirius.”

The boy grins and whispers a thank you against your skin. He takes no time in removing both of your clothes until you’re standing in front of each other naked. You and Sirius take the opportunity to study each other. You gaze over all the curves and lines on Sirius’ body, the way his muscle flex and move, the freckle on his hip bone, the tiny scar on his left shoulder, the coarse hair of his happy trail. He was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And he was all yours.

Sirius helps you lay down against the canvas, you gasp at the cold, squishy feeling of the paint beneath you. It feels foreign but not unwelcoming, you wriggle a little, enjoying the way the substance slides around. Sirius kneels between your legs, relishing in the way your chest is already rising and falling frantically from arousal, “so gorgeous darlin,” he traces a finger down from your collar bone all the way to your core finding it soaked already.

You squirm when Sirius teases your entrance with his finger, the cold paint moving and mixing into the canvas under you. A quiet whine escapes your lips the moment Sirius pushes his index finger inside you and starts pumping it steadily.

“Need you to be loud for me baby, want to know how good I make you feel ‘kay?” Sirius commands trying to get into a comfortable position in between your spread legs, his body sliding slighting from the paint.

You answer him with a loud moan. Soon Sirius has added 2 more fingers into the mix causing you to wriggle and rock your hips into his hand, “so good Sirius, fuck.”

With his free hand, Sirius grips your thigh trying to keep you still, blue paint smears against the soft flesh of your thigh and Sirius is captured by how striking you look laying here right now, chest flushed, and eyes closed. The way your body is squirming from pleasure is causing the paint on the canvas to blend and mix together. Sirius scoops up some red paint from the fabric and swipes it across your breasts and over your nipples, “so pretty.” He mumbles tugging and pinching your nipples.

“Sirius,” you pant desperately, “please. Need more.”

Sirius withdraws his fingers earning a whine from you and strokes his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance, “shh darlin’. M’here to make you feel good, yeah? Want me to make you feel good?”

You wrap your legs around him urging him to finally push into you. You needed it, needed to feel Sirius stretch you out and fill you up with his cock, needed to hear Sirius gasp and groan into your ear, needed to feel him rock his hips into yours, “please Sirius.”

With a low groan escapes from both of you when Sirius finally pushes into you, Sirius begins thrusting his hips deep and slow into yours, both of your relishing in the feeling and sensation coursing your bodies. Hands around running along the others body, squeezing, tugging, scratching at skin, leaving traces of paint in its wake. Sirius has buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, mumbling how beautiful you look spread out for him.

Deeper, you need it deeper. Wrapping your legs tightly around your boyfriend, you manage to roll the two of you over, Sirius underneath you with you straddling his waist, allowing you to bounce of his cock. From this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, his hard cock prodding at that sponging spot inside of you. The pure affection and love the two of you feel for each other was unmistakeable in this moment. The tenderness and intimacy of this act made your toes tingle and heart warm in your chest.

Continuing to bounce up and down on Sirius cock, you take a second to watch the boy below you, the only word seemingly fitting to describe him was angelic. His dark locks are sprawled out around the canvas, a mixture of red, blue and purple paint framing his body as well as splotches on his skin. His eyes are trained on yours, a look set in them that you’ve come to be familiar with, undying love.

You lower your head to connect your lips together, wanting-no needing to feel close, to feel connected.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly against Sirius’ pink lips. You feel that familiar euphoric sensation creeping up on you, Sirius’ cock hitting your g-spot every time you lower your body.

Sirius’ grips your waist tight and firmly, his own hips slamming up into you, “I love you too baby, so much.” He can feel your pussy clenching around him, he watches the way your breasts bounce between your bodies, he reaches his head forward to latch his mouth onto your nipple, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud. The noises slipping from your mouth makes his cock twitch.

“Sirius,” you pant threading your fingers through his dark hair to keep him close to your body.

Your body feels like it’s on fire and ready to combust, your legs trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer with the way Sirius is suckling at your nipple and he knows it.

“Want you to cum for me darlin, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” he groans into your breast, sucking and licking at your salty skin.

The coil in the pit of your belly snaps and with a load high pitched whine you’re releasing all over Sirius’ cock, your pussy clenching and legs shaking from the stimulation. After your release, it only takes Sirius a few more thrusts until he’s following suit, his load shooting and filling you up, a string of I love you’s tumbling from both of your mouths.

You collapse onto Sirius’ chest, neither of you make any effort to move even once your breathing has settled. Laying here with Sirius made you feel safe and protected. The way his index finger was trailing up and down your spine made you shiver, and you could feel him kissing your scalp gently. Undeniably, there was love radiating from his body, you could feel it and you only hope he could feel it radiating from yours too.

~~~

“Hey guys, that painting hanging up in the bedroom is new, yeah?” James questions, traipsing back into the living room where the rest of the group was.

You feel a heat rise in your cheeks when you realise which painting the bespectacled boy is referring too. Sirius nods pulling you tighter into his side.

“Did you paint that one Pads?” Remus asks. Most, if not all the artwork displayed in yours and Sirius’ home was created by him. It normally took a bit of persuading Sirius to let you hang up his work, he didn’t like to come across as cocky. But as soon as this canvas was dried and stretched onto a frame Sirius wasted no time in mounting it; above your shared bed, him claiming it ‘gets him in the mood whenever he looks at it’ (and he really wasn’t lying).

The boy beside you grins and plants a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “me and Y/N painted that one,” he says teasingly.

You shoot him a death glare warning him to keep his big mouth shut. “Don’t,” you mouth.

“That’s so cool! Didn’t know you were so artistic Y/N!” James exclaims excitedly, clearly impressed by the painting.

Sirius chuckles loudly pinching your side making you yelp, “oh she’s very talented when he comes to that type of stuff. I think we might need to make another piece together babe, what do you think?”

[displacedentities]

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings​ Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.

[oftenderweapons]

Everyday

Pairing: member x reader 

Wordcount: 300-400 words each piece

Genre: fluff, smut, slightest angst

Rating: suggested 18+

Small announcement

Unfortunately, I couldn't complete Jin's Love Talk scenario in time, since his conversation with Angel is a lot more difficult to handle and I still have some research to do (a lot of educational BDSM talk Yay! And I want it to be accurate and as precise as possible).

To earn your forgiveness, I will publish a double update next week, with Jin's part published on Thursday 1 am GMT, and Yoongi on Saturday at 3 am GMT. (Please don't judge my night owl lifestyle)

Here are some mixed drabbles (watch out for the text mentioned in Joon’s Love Talk) 😉 Also this is unedited, I’ll grammar check it in the morning. Each drabble is about 300-400 words.

Here is my Masterlist!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: dirty talking, spankings, oral male and female receiving, cum play (pearl necklace), male masturbation, breast worship, mentions of role play, mentions of sex tapes, mentions of subbing and pain kink, mentions of nipple piercing.

Namjoon

--  the morning after Love talk --

Sunday morning felt like a nightmare. He asked himself why, why for fuck’s sake he had left. 

You had kissed him, rubbed all over him, pressing your ass on him as you watched the film on the sofa, spooning. WHY!

He grabbed his phone. You were probably still asleep. Unless…? He texted you.

How’s your head? Mine is a mess. 

You don’t know how bad it feels to wake up alone. I felt like eating some tiramisu for breakfast and ruin your underwear. Did you touch yourself last night, after I left?

I thought about you, you know. That perfect ass of yours. How much I want to bite it. God, I want to spank you so bad, Vixen. I swear, if I put my hands on you I’m gonna ruin you. You won’t sit for a week. For all that fucking teasing last night. You don’t know how many times I thought about putting my hand under your skirt. Were you even wearing panties, naughty girl? You bent over at dinner and I noticed that there were no lines on that incredible peach of yours… Wanted to push you down against the table, drag your skirt up and just ram into you from behind. But I wanna take my time. Toy around this mind-blowing chemistry with you, until you’re on your knees begging for me to be your daddy and teach you how to do it right for me. At that point I would finger you nice and slow, the way impatient, hungry girls like you can’t handle. I would make you cum so intensely your legs would twitch merely at the thought of me doing it again. And then I would lie down and have you sit on my face. Cute right? I would help you ride my face with my hands cupping your butt, until you’re dripping all over my face. I want you to look down at me like a queen on a motherfucking throne, Vixen. And right after your second orgasm I would make you roll down so I can fuck you missionary, looking at the face you make the first time I slide into you, those pretty doll lips wrapped around the hand I used to make you cum. 

I know you must be so tight, little one. I can’t wait to leave angry, purple lovebites on your sexy hipbones and thighs, baby. 

Tell me you want that too, little vixen. 

After ten minutes of you not answering, he just headed to the shower, in the hope of blowing off some steam. 

When he returned he noticed the notification. 

My head? No complaints 😉😏

Thank you for the orgasm, daddy. Maybe I could help you with yours now?

Yeah. he was hard again anyway…

Seokjin

-- shortly after the Conversation with Jimin -- 

Water fell heavily on his back. You were laying in bed, your cute pjs making you look like a princess from a fairy tale. 

That princess had your cum all over her chest precisely five days ago.

He pressed his forehead to the tiles. No, a part of him said, but his hand was already there, lingering on his shaft. 

She licked it clean. Scooping it up with her fingers. Grinning at you. 

He hit his head against the tiles in the hope it would help him stop. 

You had your mouth on her panties, you coward? She was so lost she would have told you yes. He thought of your taste. He allowed himself that only once, maybe twice a month. Not because he didn’t like that, but rather because he had probably never done it before. Which seems ridiculous, but apparently his exes weren’t interested in cunnilingus? Was it absurd that he wanted to try with you? 

He dragged his hand up and down, angry at himself. 

He should just get in the bed and make you scream until even the florist at the end of the street knew who’s fucking you so good.

He thought about your hands tied up, about you cumming just with him ramming into you. He wanted to give it to you so hard you even forgot you had a body. He wanted your pleasure to be one with his. Just like last time. 

Not like your previous life was unsatisfactory. But he saw the superior look of bliss, how radiant you had looked the morning after. How easily you had fallen asleep in his arms as he caressed your hair. 

“Jinnie, love.” You called from the bedroom. 

He didn’t understand what came next, he was lost in bliss, your voice and his imagination making him fall in the deepest pits of pleasure. 

Yoongi 

-- after date five, art gallery --

Fuuuuck. He fixed his trousers in the elevator headed to his apartment. 

Rushing through his door, he almost tripped on his shoes as he took them off hastily. He had promised himself he wouldn’t. Yet again, here he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows propped on his knees. He took off his turtleneck lightning fast, his naked pale chest emerging from the dark cotton that protected him from the chilly spring air. He didn’t actually have enough patience to get rid of his trousers. He let them bunch up at his ankles.

“Kitten.” He whispered shyly, reaching for his hard on. He was so sensitive his hips thrusted up as he gave himself the first stroke. 

Those tits. Fuck. Pressed against his back as you explained a picture to him, the tip of your nose running against the curve of his ear. 

He had wanted to pin you against the white walls of the gallery, like a work of art, get his head under your cute skirt and nuzzle his face against your mound.

And the ice cream. 

He thought he would cum in his pants, with you licking up your ice cream cone, your kittenish licks deviously appropriate to your nickname. And the ice cream dribbling down your hand in thick droplets a couple times. The way you had sucked it clean. 

Fuck, fuck!

He laid down on his back and kicked off his pants, hand still busy on his cock. Half delirious, he turned to his belly, thrusting his hips up into his hand, one arm propping him up. “Fuck, kitten, so good.” He nuzzled his face against the sheets, lost in his imagination. “Love, please. ____.” And with your name on his lips he let himself crumble and dissolve. Crashing, exhausted on the bed he took only a couple seconds before emitting an exasperated cry. He had stained the sheets like a teenager. 

Three times this week. And it was only Tuesday. 

Hoseok 

-- a couple days after his Conversation with Taehyung --

“Are you sure you want to keep it? We don’t have to, sweetie.” He reassured you. 

“You’ll have to leave soon. I know you get frustrated with phonesex. This could help you.” You combed his hair back and booped his nose. 

He hid his face into your neck. “Tell me you’ll see me in Los Angeles. Promise me you’ll come.”

“I promise, puppet.” You held him tighter. 

“The guys hate me when you’re not around. They say I get duller.” He whined with a sad voice. 

“My poor little puppet.” You fondled him. “And that’s not true Hobi. You’re always lovely.” You started waddling, bringing him from the kitchen to the sofa. Waddling always gets him to laugh. 

Indeed, a few seconds later he giggled as you both plopped down on the cushions. He shifted around until he was perfectly curled against you, his head laying on your chest.

“You sure you’re okay with me keeping it?”

“Guard it like your own life, Hobi. You know the risks.” You reminded him. 

“Yes, of course. It’s in my personal luggage. Safe. Don’t worry, seriously. Taehyung instructed me. And I’m pretty sure he travels with a whole library of this stuff.”

You cringed and laughed. “At least he can help you, eventually.”

“Your copy is in the pendrive in the bedside table.” He murmured. “It’s only three weeks until LA. It’s not awful. We can do this.” He tried to convince himself. 

“Just three weeks. You’ve got enough stuff to last you a month.” You kissed his forehead. 

“I love you.” He said, stretching to reach for your lips. 

“I love you too, puppet.”

Jimin 

-- The morning after your sixth date --

He woke up with an awfully painful erection. Probably because the night before you had teased him endlessly and when he’d come back home he’d been too tired to jerk off. 

Pushing up his hips tentatively, he felt the softness of the cotton on his naked body. Turning around he found his spare pillow between his thighs. 

Yes, he huffed out, thrusting his hips harshly. He moaned. He started with a punishing rhythm straight away, pushing so hard his whole back arched over and over.

His hand grabbed his own thigh, using his knees and free arm for leverage. 

The hand on his leg climbed up to his ass, cupping it, slapping it carefully, gently. He wanted you to do that. Grab his ass as he rammed into you. Manhandle him a little. His hand climbed further up, toying wit his chest. 

Shit. He tweaked his nipple, wetting his fingers with his mouth and bringing them back to his pect. His hips stuttered. 

He thought of your mouth. Of your sinful red lips, Of the way you always seemed to have the situation under control. Of the way you make him always feel desired.

Were you touching yourself at the thought of him?

Were you as eager as he was? Having wet dreams about him?

He was tired of this frustration. He fucked harder in the pillow, one hand around his neck, the other gripping his ass, his short nails diggin in the flesh. 

He could only think that your nails would look prettier. Sink deeper. Hurt more. Make it all sweeter.

Taehyung

— around date three or four —

“That lipstick looks lovely on you, Doll.” He murmured, holding your hand as you strolled down the gallery, a big bucket hat over his eyes. “I think I’ll call you poppy. That’s perfect poppy red. How fitting that opium comes from poppies.” 

You looked at him surprised. “Are you saying I’m a drug?”

“I’ve been high on you for the last four days. Since I saw you at the shop. Do you usually strut around in full pin up attire?“ He asked, intertwining your fingers. 

“No, not usually. I was just on my way to a theme party. I figured I could just get ready at the shop. I wasn’t expecting you to come around.”

“Theme party... Were you supposed to be the naughty housewife who can’t just get enough of her husband and has an affair with the poolboy?“ He asked, getting close to you enough to bite your earlobe. Oh, the teasing. He was reckless with it. 

“Tae.” You reprimanded him. You looked around. The gallery was empty since he knew the owner and he had allowed him to come visit behind closed doors. 

“It’s just us, Doll. No worry.“ His arm wrapped around your waist. “I can be your obedient poolboy.“

“Why be the poolboy when you could be my husband, spanking me because I ruined one of his expensive white shirts?” You looked at him mischievously as he cleared his throat. You both stopped in front of a painting. The still nature had a variety of vases with different flowers. Of course poppies were included. 

“There they are.” He pointed to the flowers. “And here she is.” His arm wrapped you up, dragging you closer to him, his mouth dipping to yours.

You thought his spell would wear off, but time after time, his kisses taste wilder. Would it ever become too much?

Jungkook

— shortly after Where, when and how —

Jungkook was laying on top of you on the sofa, and god, didn’t it feel nice...

Nuzzling his face against your chest, he let his hand climb under your T-shirt, meeting the elastic band of your sports bra and slipping his fingers underneath, tracing the outline of your pierced nipple.

“Again, baby?” You asked him, who had already reached his destination.

“I love it. I’m sorry.” His face felt ten times hotter on your neck, his blush apparent.

He made to remove his hand, but you locked it there.

“It’s sweet, it’s just that it turns me on a little.” It was your turn to blush.

“If you want I can just let it be. Really. I mean... Unless you want me to... help you out with... that.” He questioned, doubtful.

“Are you asking me if I need to be fucked?” You asked, unceremoniously, with a grin on your face.

“I mean. I wouldn’t oppose if you asked me to.” He kissed your neck sweetly.

You combed his hair with your fingers. He emitted a low whine, especially when you massaged his nape.

“Would you like to try something, Koo?” You were getting an idea.

He seemed to raise his head like a curious bunny. “Mhmh.”

“Remembered when we tried cockwarming?” You asked, ready for mischief.

“Of course.” He replied. Duh.

“What if we did the same here. I mean, if you kept your mouth there, did your thing until I can’t keep my cool?” You suggested.

“Take off this damn shirt right now.” He replied immediately, lifting himself off to allow you to move.

There we go.

[ramble-writes]

So... Today is my Frank's birthday. Yes it is May 1st deal with it. BUT, here we are again with MORE of the Frank Brothers! I told myself I was gonna do this cuz it would be nice and I'm finding myself liking this AU. So James belongs to (again~) @franks-mixtape! As for the Julie (same one from the previous one) that one belongs to my bf. So.. Happy Birthday to my boy, big ol’ boofer you are. And Luke I tried to make sure I still got a mellow raven tone right cuz hi I haven’t been writing in a while.

NOTE!!!! This would take place after the valentine’s fic. So meaning that Fenik and James met in 1995 which carried onto 1996 (year in-game legion disappeared). As for the first wolf bros fic, that one was like.. an in the middle thing. So yeah.

Warning(s): cursing, teenager stuff lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

-

Due to a teacher, the pack of Fairview knew about one of Frank's birthdays. On January 18th on a Thursday, the teacher for physics during roll call had briefly announced it when he called out James’s name. This information was quick to be relayed, since Joey was there in the class to hear Julie, Susie, and the other Frank, Fenik as his middle name goes.

Good on Fenik’s part for having a free period since he was quick to leave the school and hurried off to see about something simple to get his brother. Though... Any sort of gift or a word of cheer was met with hostility and retaliation. Of course, this worried the hell out of the three. Fenik only knew about what really happened and as to why his brother hated his own birthday a few days later when the raven-haired teen came stumbling to his brother’s home drunk off his ass and told the whole story.

Damn near broke the russet-haired Morrison’s heart at it...

Fast-forward to March. It was something about after valentine’s that Julie wondered about Fenik’s birthday, and had brought up this thought to his brother, Joey, and Susie. James was quick to be against it and said to drop it with a snap. He may not know what horrors his other half went through, but Fenik’s been the wolf the longest and had yet to ever snap. And he didn’t want to risk that. The last thing he honestly wanted (but never admitted) was for there to be a fight and for any of them to be hurt or worse, killed.

Of course, it brought on determination to mix with curiosity. Which was a bad mix when it comes to Julie since she went over to the russet-haired teen's foster home. Her last class was a free period, so it made it easy to get up and leave without really sticking around. Since it's most likely the couple has his papers upon fostering, it would have his date of birth on it.

"So... He's a May baby?"

"That's right. And on the first, no less," Audrey responded with a nod. A look crossed her face, then the woman turned to look at the young girl. "Do you think he wants to do anything for his birthday? With what he's been through, I think it would be nice."

Julie casted her eyes to the side, brown orbs focusing on a cross country trophy with a figure in a running position with the words '2nd Place: Fairview' engraved at the bottom.

"His brother says it would be a bad idea to do anything after what happened on his birthday."

"You mean, the other Frank? His half brother?"

"Mhm. He doesn't know what would happen if we do something for him. Though, I do agree since raven head threw a big fit on his birthday. Frank knows what happened, but hasn't told us."

Audrey nodded in understanding. Seeing as the two have the same father, of course, they would confide in each other. She does remember back in January that night when she went to check on the (unknowingly) wolf, that she saw the two in Fenik's bed. Amber eyes had looked over with a gesture for her to be silent. From what she could see of the passed-out teenager, was that he smelt of alcohol and just barely could see cheeks stained with tears.

"Then... How about a gift?"

That made Julie think. She wouldn't really know what he would want seeing as there's quite a bit he keeps to himself and or only shares with James. So she just shrugged. At least they have till May to think it over.

-

May 1st was only about a week away. The pack had about a full month to plan on what to do. Even though it was on a Wednesday, the weekend could be used up for the group. Despite his best efforts with telling them it's a bad idea, James caved and (reluctantly) agreed to help out to see what things caught his brother's eye.

So far, nothing. But, the raven-haired 19-year-old, on his first hunt, noticed something about the russet-haired teen. It was after they took down a moose, how Fenik managed to detach the head with a snap of the spine and the sickening ripping sound of flesh and muscles. James had... no idea how much blood was truly on the both of them till Fenik shifted back.

Blood covered his mouth and chin, running down his neck to his shirt under his jacket. And his hands were *drenched* from biting and attacking the moose. Back to the point, the black pelted wolf watched how the skin on the head was cut off with a knife the other had stowed away. It clicked that way. Bones/Skulls were of his interest with how he was careful with it and set it up against a tree.

"Whatcha doin' there fuzz butt?"

"Ideas are needed. Plus, gotta draw out your first hunting band! You're a Morrison, brother. And, maybe, if you'd like. A new skull. I'm thinkin' flesh hanging off the antlers."

"That's... bitchin. But, for another day. I'm cool with the band."

Fenik nodded, then finished what he was doing before shifting back and headed back over to his brother. It did surprise James when the rust-colored wolf took a big ol' bite out of the carcass and *swallowed* it down. He decided not to make a comment and tried it out himself. Weird how as a wolf the taste of raw meats doesn't taste so bad.

-

Since the days have gotten warmer with summer coming, clothes were lighter so no one overheated. At lunch, it was clear to the others how relaxed Fenik looked, not minding when his soon-to-be teammates from track & field would come over and pat him on the back to wish him a happy 19th and some even gave him 10 or 5 bucks (10 = about 8. 5 = about 4). He didn't mind *that* part one bit.

When school was out, the pack stood outside the steps as per usual. Well, except Joey till he did hop down the steps with a pretty big grin on his face. This made the two Morrisons and Julie look over with a raised brow.

"Somethin' up, Joe?"

"Yup! So, ya know how you told us you and raven head here went on his first hunt, yeah?"

Fenik nodded slowly, suspicious of what the tallest of their group was going on about. He heard his brother sigh in his head and go on about how he tried to tell them not to. "Yeaaaah?"

"And ya got all those tattoos n such, right?"

"Joey... What did you do."

The 18-year-old smiled and took off his backpack. Opening it, he withdrew a bag (that he most likely stashed in his locker) and handed it over. The russet-haired teen blinked as he took it, peaking in with amber eyes. Reaching in, he withdrew a box no bigger than the length of his forearm.

"A stick n poke?"

"Yeah! Well, we know that you do pretty well in art and that from some of the stuff you've shown us, you do all those dots that create really cool images."

"Stipple. That's what the media is called."

"Yeah, th-"

"JOEY YOU DIDN'T WAIT FOR ME!"

Susie came running down the steps with what looks like a book in her hand that she's waving about. Turns out the book was a sketchbook. At first, there was a slow build of concern and worry with how quiet he is, that is till they all felt a wave of sadness mixed with happiness. Hearing Fenik sniffle with a smile on his face was something.

"Sorry ah... I've.. never really celebrated my birthday. Always thought of it as bad since I was put in the system a day before my birthday. And.. all the others after that in every home, they just took the extra money I was supposed to get every May."

He ended it by muttering how the families thought it was bonus money. There were shared looks at that. Put in the system before turning 8. Ouch... James then leaned onto his brother's side, feeling him lean back. He isn't good with words, but as they say, actions speak louder than words.

After that exchange was done, the five all went home. Even after that day, Fenik was a bit snide on the fact that the other two didn't really get him anything. But, maybe Joey just had a higher knowledge? Though that didn't seem right, James did know about it as well.

The silence that followed didn't make any sense till Friday.

When the russet-haired teen got home, he was confused. One moment James hurried off to his house, then the next moment he was at the door of his house with his backpack.

"Bro, what the hell are you doin?"

"Waiting on you, and the others."

"Others?"

James just motioned for him to open the door, when he did, his parents were there waiting with bags of what he could tell is camping gear.

"Uh... What is going on?"

Mitch looked up upon hearing the teen and stood there proudly with a smile on his face as he gestured to the two big bags that hold two separate tents, rolled up sleeping bags, bags that probably have food and blankets, and other things.

"When was the last time you've been camping?"

"Uh... Six years ago? I think? Why?"

"We thought it would be nice to go down to the lake. Minnewanka to be exact," Audrey exclaimed with a smile. James let out a snort of a laugh from behind at the name, which the woman ignored before turning her attention to the people that walked up to the door.

"And we thought it would be nice to bring your friends and your brother! That's why they have their bags for the weekend."

Fenik turned his head to look over his shoulder to see Susie, Joey, and Julie there with what were their backpacks that were once full of school supplies, but now hold clothing. It took a moment for him to put the pieces together and his eyes widened.

"Wait, is this for my birthday?"

The six people in the room all smiled with nods of their heads. This made him get excited and rushed over to the stairs and his steps thundered as he ran up to his room. The raven-haired teen went up after the silence that followed after his other half left, wanting to avoid the awkward standing without knowing what to say.

-

The trip was long, but the weather made up for it. Susie, Joey, and Julie were in the backseat, mainly because the brothers insisted since they wanna sit in the truck bed. Honestly, the happiness that radiated from both was astounding considering the many shit foster homes they had.

It was Fenik who insisted that they howl out along the ride, mainly to be idiots in his excitement but, as far as he knows James probably hasn't tried to before. The sound though, was loud when conjoined from the two. Joey ended up sticking his head out to do it as well, Susie had turned down her hearing aid to make it easier to join in from her head coming out of the back window. Julie just chuckled with a roll of her eyes with Mitch and Audrey.

Upon getting there, a spot was reserved for them marked in outdoor safe spray paint. What was odd was how it was marked F.J. Fenik looked to the two adults, assuming it was a way to mark as him and Julie, that was till they looked at James with worried yet hopefully glances.

"We thought it would be nice to celebrate both your birthdays. From when I last saw you, James. You passed out in your brother's arms and looked like you've been crying."

There was a visible flinch from the raven-haired teen at that. He did remember getting drunk and stumbling to the other's home. He couldn't remember all that he said in his drunken stupor, but he did remember that he mentioned why he hates his own birthday. It clicked in his head right there and he stared at the two adults before muttering a low: "Why..."

"We may not know the reason why, and we know we were told to not do anything for you in the future but..."

"What the old bag is trying to say is, why not knock out two birds with one stone in the best way possible. At least y'all can go out and let all the crazies inside, out."

Green eyes sought out to hopefully lock with amber eyes, and they did, but it felt like there was a gentle coax in James's mind.

*'Ya might as well go with it. They ain't easy with "no" for an answer. But, they mean well. Honest.'*

The 19-year-old looked back at the two adults who were scolding each other from Mitch calling Audrey an 'old bag.' Looking down to the marker, he toed at it before letting out a sigh.

"Alright. But just this once. No more shit after it," He concluded. That caught the two's attention, but they nodded in understanding. For the rest of the time till dinner, they set up the two tents. One for the adults, the other for the teenagers. It was nice that a grill was there since hamburgers, salmon, and what other things they brought in cans were cooked.

It was Susie who declared that any gifts that were brought were to be given. She ended up giving Fenik a scarf she made, an infinity scarf that's a big circle. Course, he put that on. The one from Julie was... Questionable. It was a collar and a leash which promoted James to point and cackle like a mad man.

"AWW YOU GONNA TAKE YOUR WITTLE PUBBY OUT FOR WALKIES!!" He wheezed out, just howling with laughter before yelping when his brother had taken the leash and snapped it like what people do with belts. As a joke (they both know), the younger of the two chased after the eldest yelling about tying him up to a tree. The adults didn't get it, but the teenagers did and Joey fell down from wheezing so much.

When it all calmed down, Fenik yelped at a toy hitting his head and plopping onto the ground. A *squeaky* toy. He just glared at his brother who snickered, making the joke about the collar and leash worse. He muttered a 'thanks' to it before stopping at feeling something plush be placed on his head. He let it land in his lap to see a folded up plaid blanket, blue and red in color with its usual mixed colored squares when it comes to two colors. Thick in material too, meant to keep one warm.

*'It's not every night we get to run around the forest like some shitty dystopian forest novel, so I thought why not get something that'll ease ya when we're apart.'*

Fenik brought it up to his face to rub his face on it, but the fact that it was practically coated in James's scent honestly did bring him comfort that he kinda just... sat there with his face in it silently before lifting his face up with a smile on it. It was easy to tell that he's pleased about it.

-

Did they go night swimming? Yes. There was a bit of daylight left so it made swimming perfect for the teenagers as they did their best to not be so loud to disturb other sleeping campers. Of course they couldn't help the squeaks and yelps that were let out from falling in and water being splashed. Joey ended up calling it good and declared he's heading back to dry off and sleep. Susie followed after. Julie did as well, after wishing the both of them 'Happy Birthday' and kissing the both of them on the cheek.

It left the two Morrisons there on the shoreline, sitting there gazing out as the last bit of light faded and allowed for their eyes to adjust and adapt to the dark. Fenik went over to the lump that is his towel and unrolled it to pull out his newly acquired blanket, only to see a little box plop out. Confused, he picked it up as he headed over to his brother and sat down to drape the blanket over the both of them.

Before he could even ask, James nudged him to open it. He didn't press on but listened and ended up withdrawing a cord necklace tied around what looks like a tip of an antler. It was engraved too with what appears to be a half of a wolf face, but the lines were dyed green. That's when he noticed another one with the other half of the face and lines dyed red.

The raven-haired teen took both. The one with the red lines he put on around his neck, then fitted the one with the green lines around his brother's neck. A matching set, but the one the russet-haired one had was bigger, until it clicked as to why.

"Remember that box ya showed me of those pieces of bones you've collected or snapped off?" When Fenik nodded as a response, he kept going. "I took the tip from that moose we took down, then this one that I have from the deer you told me you hunted. So I thought, why the hell not?"

"And you made a matching set out of them... Thank you..."

James nodded with a half smile, then his eyes followed as his brother stood up. He did the same and shifted after Fenik did. Compared to the walking hellfire the rusted colored wolf is, he's a shadow with orbs to lure in those that are unsuspecting. Together, it was just two big overgrown dogs that caused chaos like puppies.

[impostertamsong]

Learning To Be Happy Again

You get an early release because Imma be real busy tomorrow and plan to not be as active (or not active at all). 

Also, a little warning for this one. Lord Cassius is not nice in this chapter, and I’m pretty sure this counts as emotional abuse, so, yeah. Also, just general angst.

Chapter Two: Guess What Happened? You’ll Never Guess

I wake up in a cold sweat, blanket tangled around my legs. 

“Keefe, are you okay?” Elwin’s voice comes from behind me.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It was just a dream.” I look over at Elwin. Even in the dark light I can tell he’s worried, but it’s not the kind of worry I’m used to. When Foster’s worried it feels more like a swarm of butterflies constantly surrounding the target. This feels like being snuggled in a warm blanket on a cold day, and I feel the need to tell him everything about the dream. It’s something I’m not used to, so I stop talking a little abruptly.  

Almost on cue, Elwin says, “Do you wanna talk about it?” I nod, but don’t say anything. “Well, okay, what was the dream about?”

“Well,” and then words just start pouring out of me. Though, despite my photographic memory, I can’t describe it quite right. All I can really say is: “It was dark, and I was being held down by shadows. Tam was there. I couldn’t move. It was so, so dark.” Elwin wraps his arms around me, and that odd worry feeling gets stronger. I can’t help but hold onto him like the world depends on it. This feels like something I should know, but don’t, and it doesn’t bother me. When he starts whispering that I’m okay, and that it’ll all be alright, it takes a lot of energy not to just completely lose it. What is this new feeling coming in? It’s so soft, pale pink and pure comfort. This feels familiar, but not at the same time. It’s like the feeling I used to get when my wonderful, beloved mother would comfort me, but less contained. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright,” Elwin whispers, pulling me out of my thoughts. I guess I started crying at some point, because tears are streaming down my face. 

“Thank, thank you,” I croak. 

“Is it okay if I leave you now?” Elwin moves to get up, but I grab his sleeve. 

“I, the dark. Can, can you stay with me?” He nods and then moves to get up again. 

“I’m just going to bring my bed over here so that I can be nearer to you, alright? I’m not leaving.” I nod shakily. But he could leave, I wouldn’t blame him. I mean, who would want to deal with a mess like me? I’m sixteen and afraid of the dark. How lame is that. 

“I’m back,” Elwin whispers. His hand takes mine and squeezes it. “Wake me up if you have another nightmare, okay? I don’t mind.” 

“Okay, goodnight, Elwin, and thanks,” I whisper back. The room is too quiet for speaking at a regular volume. 

“Goodnight, Keefe.”

I don’t have any more nightmares. 

The morning is uneventful, and soon I’ve changed back into my own clothes, Elwin’s hugged me good-bye, and I’ve light leaped to The Shores of Solace. 

“I’m home, Father Dearest!” I call through the house after I’ve closed the door. Said person is sitting in a chair, looking rather worse for wear. When he sees me, he stands up, and his face grows dark. 

“Why did nobody tell me you were awake?”

“Uh, I dunno. Probably just forgot or something.” 

“Forgot? Forgot? How could they! I’m your father!” He’s properly upset now, just the warm welcome I needed. “How long have you been awake.”

“Since yesterday afternoon, I think.” 

“Yesterday? That long? Why did you stay the night?” 

“Elwin wanted to make sure everything was stable, just in case.” 

“Elwin. Why didn’t he tell me!” he grumbles.

“I, I don’t know.” I scratch my neck. Dad looks there and sees the scars. 

“What. Is. That.”

“Oh, uh, it’s just a tattoo I got on the way back. Pretty cool, huh.”

“Don’t you dare joke with me.” He glares at me. 

“Um, it’s actually from the incident. They won’t go away. Elwin tried.” 

“Oh did he. I’m sure he tried very hard. You know, why didn’t you listen to your friends and stay behind. This wouldn’t have happened if you had. You would be fine and… unmarked.” He sneers the last word. 

“Yeah, and if I had, I’m sure they would’ve found me, or Tam would be dead.”

“Does that Song boy mean something to you?” 

“Well, no.” Why would he ask that? “But I wouldn’t want to have someone’s death on me. And Linh doesn’t need that anyway. Tam is all she’s got.” 

Dad sighs heavily. “But now you’ve got those marks. How’re you supposed to be successful with imperfections. You have enough.” 

“Well, I think I’m pretty great, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My words are empty, but that doesn’t matter. 

“Oh? Do you need me to repeat them? Your art, for one, is getting in the way of your success. Your mischievous outlook on life has given you more detentions than awards. You care more about your friends than your own family. And now these scars.”

“I don’t care.” And I don’t. How could those be imperfections if they’re all the things that bring me joy? 

“Go to your room. Now.” Dearest Daddy ever the forgiver. 

I flop on my bed and sigh. 

“So, you had a nice chat with Lord Snootypants then?” Ro is standing in the corner. 

“Mhm. Just the most wonderful welcome home you could ever expect. I got reminded just how much of a disappointment I am! Just what a kid wants to hear.” I laugh, the idea that I could have avoided this whole thing by hiding ricocheting around my brain. “It’s my fault isn’t it. I could’ve stayed behind and not furthered Mommy Dearest’s legacy for me or whatever.” Ro is silent. 

“You can’t let his words get to you,” she says wisely after a few moments. “Even if that were true, who knows what would’ve happened.” 

“Who are you, and what did you do with Ro? You didn’t get her personality right, impostor.” I sit up and point dramatically at her.

“I can be serious, weirdo. But tell anyone, and I’ll coat your pillow in some of that flesh eating bacteria. I hear it also goes through hair pretty quickly.” 

I screech. “Not the hair, Romhilda!” She glares at me, and I laugh. 

My imparter rings, breaking the light feeling. “Hey, Foster.” 

“Hey. You’re back at your house?” 

“Yeah, I am. Got a lovely welcome too!” 

“Oh, Keefe. Are you alright?”

“Just peachy!”

“Keefe.”

“Really! I’m fine, Foster. Don’t worry. I can tell you know.” She smiles slightly, cheeks slightly pink. 

“I still will, you know. I bet Forkle ingrained it into my DNA.” She laughs coldly. A familiar laugh. 

Dinner is tense and quiet. We’re having soup, so the only sounds are spoons on bowls. As soon as I finish, I stand up quickly and put my dishes away (after cleaning them, of course) and go to my room. 

“Let’s ditch this place.” I start gathering stuff before Ro even answers. 

“And where do you plan to go?” Ro has her arms folded. 

“Elwin, I guess. I don’t feel like bothering anyone else. And I get the feeling he cares? I dunno. Maybe it’s a stupid idea.” I stop rushing around the room and sit at the edge of my bed, face in my hands. 

“Naw, let’s go! Screw your dad!” Ro stands taller and smirks. “C’mon! Finish packing!” 

I smile. “Okay!” 

After a while, I go through the bag I’ve packed to make sure I’ve got everything. “Mrs. Stinkbottom, sketchpad, pencils, clothes, yup. That’s it! Let’s get out of here!”

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[destiny-smasher]

(Music by Samantha Pena, soudncloud user spena1989) Not gonna lie, I'm at a point with All Wounds where I'm like...oof, I wasn't able to envision everything I wanted to a few years back (by a long shot) but I'm kinda...wanting to be done with it. Even though I don't want to be done with it. 😅All Wounds was created from the get-go to be a visual novel - that's why the initial demo released so early into the project's life. My original intent was to go back and forth between fic and VN. But my original intent was also to end the story during the Portland road trip (Chapter 7). And while you could certainly make a case that the story is technically stronger up until that point, and becomes less potent and more dragged out for it's post-time-skip stuff, the latter stuff was also just...a lot more fun to write. And when I look back, if I had committed to the visual novel as intended, we'd not have gotten, like, ANY of that post-time-skip stuff, which includes Other Max being as fully fleshed out as she became. She'd have been stuck being a ghost in Max's head, pretty much. At this point, though, it's been so long, the fic I made INSTEAD of working on the visual novel is SO long, interest in the project peaked back while it was being written, working on this by myself is DAMN exhausting in terms of time spent, emotion and mentality drained, etc. Whenever I go back and listen to all of the amazing music made by people in the LiS it reinspires me to keep working on All Wounds but that's had diminishing returns as my life has changed drastically this past year. I love Max and Chloe. But, tbh, I just moved to a new country and got married, and I love my wife more than Max and Chloe? ^_^;; I’m not depressed and stuck in retail hell anymore, relying on staying up late working on a LiS fan project to channel that depression. I don't wanna completely shut the door on the visual novel and there's a chance I may still try to keep pushing to at least get to that road trip and maybe fudge it a bit. After all, a LOT of work has been done to the project that isn’t apparently or accessible in the public version; and I was able to add pretty well presented versions of Chapters 3 and 4 recently. So it’s entirely possible I could at least push it a little bit further if I end up inspired to do so. Either way, regardless, I still want to try some kind of epilogue, end-cap, etc, maybe even in VN form (Jenny and I had envisioned an epilogue where the characters play DnD). Max and Chloe mean the world to me, and exploring a version of events where both endings of the original game are expanded and tied together felt very cathartic. I'd rather that exist in SOME form (fic) than none at all; I think I'd still have done things this way a second time. But All Wounds inherently was a story about processing pain and grief and trauma and figuring out how to cope with it and heal and move on. And when I was at such low points, that made sense to write and steep myself in. But now? It just kinda doesn't. More than anything, though, is the fact that it's still a fan project - one that has had a lot of its interest evaporated for multiple reasons. The game’s ending is over four years old now; a prequel AND a sequel have both come out, further fragmenting the fandom; people have moved on. And it’s easy for outsiders to not realize how emotionally exhausting and sometimes painful All Wounds was, has been, and can still be for me to work on. Even things like pieces of music or art made by people who hurt me, who I hurt, that shit isn’t easy to work with. I could be spending all of this effort and energy on something less emotionally painful that isn't complete in ANY form AND is original. It feels bad to seriously consider dropping it when I'm sure there are still SOME people out there waiting for it, but I have other stories that I really need to work on. I can't keep myself locked in this cage forever when the work is such an unreasonable mountain to surpass. What I HAVE created is a fleshed out and substantial story and a chunk of it imagined in VN format which all kind of acts as a love letter to PriceField as well as an ultimately cathartic way to leave that original game to rest, I hope. Going forward I really think I'd like for Arcadian Rhythms to function as my one sole fanfic project I do inbetween original works, with one-shots or other bits (like the Butterfly Soup fic) just being other, far less intensive ways of working out those kinds of inspiration. It would probably do me better to also not talk about what I'm working on (aside from AR I suppose) in much depth or detail until I have something finished to really show for it. 😓 So if you want to see what I’ve been able to make of the visual novel so far, you can find that here.If you want to read the prose fic version of the story, which was finished quite some time ago (and which is where I want to update with an epilogue eventually), you can find that here. My newer fandom project, Arcadian Rhythms, which actually does feature Life is Strange characters, can be checked out here. You can follow our Patreon over here - we’ve been on hiatus as we deal with immigration but that should be all sorted soon. Regardless, any major updates to projects will be getting posted there once we’re back up and running. And you can follow me on Twitter over here; or just check back on my personal Tumblr here as I’m sure any meaningful thing I complete, fanfic or otherwise, will get posted here. So to clarify, current creative plans for the future on my own time: - original fiction projects (I’ve actually started work on an original VN for ex.) - Arcadian Rhythms for fun - some kind of epilogue for All Wounds - some kind of conclusion to Runners at the Corners (Butterfly Soup)

Interest in AW severely declined after the fic was done, no one else seems interested in working on it, either, it'd be SO MUCH work still. Sunken cost fallacy is a thing and tbh that’s part of why I even pushed myself to finish the update I did a few weeks ago. I am sorry to anyone who’s been waiting all this time for it - what I managed to produce is still a multi-hour visual novel, and I am still contemplating trying to at least get it to the end of the pre-time-skip. At the very least, there is still a complete story that can be read in fic form, the project just floated up and away from a reasonable grasp for one person, mainly because I just...wrote way more than I originally intended to. When I started work on this prokect, I also didn’t expect to fall in love, struggle to make ends meet, move across an ocean, and get married. And as important as All Wounds has been to me, I did at least finish telling the story I started, and the story it became, but I’ve learned all I can from it at this point and am so tired of trying to drag it out on my own. In the same way All Wounds sees Max and Chloe needing to accept their losses and let themselves move forward despite not everything going how they wanted, I guess I have to do the same with this project. Max and Chloe start a new future together, and it’s that time in my life where I probably should start doing the same. I need to start focusing on telling my own stories with my own characters more than I have been, as well as making more space for this new future with my new wife. And to All Wounds, the most difficult project I’ve worked on to date, as someone I once knew once sang, "I know, I know I made so many promises I know I left you such a mess; Gotta let go, gotta let go, and move on Been walking in a circle for too long"

And as another musician put it,

“Come and see the light of day out in the open It’s like I’m waking from a dream, oh Many days since I have seen the end unfolded Many times that I’ve looked back on all the times that we have had”

[theaestheticarmchair]

Fluffcember Day 1: Sunrise

The Sleeping Prince | Book II: The Spindle

Word count: 1386

When Aurelian opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was blue. A stunning azure sky, darkness fading into light. Little wisps of clouds above him flared bright orange, like frozen tendrils of fire.

Suppressing a yawn, he slowly rose to a seated position and extended both arms above his head. The satisfying burn of the stretch brought some clarity to his sleep-addled mind, and that was the moment he realized that—oh.

They’d fallen asleep.

They’d been out all night.

Well. That was unintentional.

A soft noise made him look down, and a strange twinge flickered from his stomach to his chest when he saw Bramble’s head cushioned on his flesh thigh. Somehow, his arms had encircled Aurelian’s entire leg, and he was currently cuddling it like a stuffed gryphon. Aurelian had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.

It pained him to do, but he gave Bramble’s arm a gentle nudge. “Hey. Hey.”

Bramble shifted and groaned in his sleep, his arms tightening around Aurelian’s leg. “Hrngmngnmnr,” he grumbled.

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to be waking up naturally anytime soon, Aurelian resorted to the only thing he could think of.

He gave his best friend a wet willy.

Bramble’s reaction was immediate. He let out a high-pitched scream and rolled about a foot away, limbs flailing wildly. Aurelian couldn’t bring himself to regret it as he doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach.

“YOU ARE AN AWFUL, HORRIBLE PERSON,” Bramble yelled as he sat up and shoved Aurelian over. Aurelian just curled up on his side, still shaking with mirth.

“Worth it,” he choked out between laughs. “So worth it.”

“That’s so gross, dude,” Bramble said, as pissed as Aurelian had ever heard him. “You better have a freaking good reason for pulling that, or I swear.”

“Right, right,” Aurelian managed, finally pulling himself together, but unable to keep the grin off his face. “Um, two things. First of all, we accidentally stayed out all night.”

Bramble’s glare froze on his face, and he muttered something under his breath that would undoubtedly make Aithusa wash his mouth out with soap for a month.

“Welp,” he said. “I’m dead. Nice knowing you.”

“Nah. I’ll probably see you up there pretty soon too.”

Bramble shrugged, in a what can you do manner. The remarkably blase attitude was strangely unlike him. Aurelian supposed that it was because he was still pretty out of it. “Anyway, what was the second thing?”

Aurelian gestured toward the giant canvas spread out in front of them. “It’s done. I finished it.”

“Finish…” Bramble looked lost for a moment, and then realization seemed to hit. “Oh! You finished it!”

He stood up, swaying slightly on his feet, and stumbled over to the painting, crouching down in front of it. Aurelian joined him, surveying his own work.

In the light of the sunrise, it looked better than he’d ever hoped for. The base colours of the night sky blended together with a two-toned effect, lighter near the horizon. Navy to royal blue to a light pink. The colours grew brighter in the rift-like clouds of the galaxy above them. But the painting’s most stunning attribute were the stars. Or, rather, the constellations. Because Aurelian had drawn out every single one he could. The two bears, mother and child, curled up together. The woman chained to a rock. The scorpion. The scales.

The Tree of Life, front and centre, shining silvery white.

When he realized Bramble had been silent for too long, he looked over at him. Bramble was still staring, slack-jawed, at the canvas. He didn’t speak. And didn’t speak. And didn’t speak.

“Well?” Aurelian asked, his voice softer than he’d intended. Bramble was never this quiet when looking at his art. He always had a compliment at the ready, always looking for something useful to comment. He had never been completely silent before.

It was weird.

Aurelian didn’t like it.

And he especially didn’t like that he was realizing how much he relied on his best friend’s validation.

But then Bramble finally, finally spoke. And what he said was, “Holy crap, Thorn.”

Miniature butterflies in his gut, which he hadn’t realized were there, tried to climb up his esophagus and choke him with his anxiety. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of them. “Is that a… good ‘Holy crap Thorn’, or a bad ‘Holy crap Thorn’?”

Bramble finally looked up at him, and his eyes were shining.

“This is the best work you’ve ever done,” he said. “Hands down. Holy crap. I can’t even—I can’t even make art compliments form, like, I can’t think, and it may be partly because I’m half-awake right now, but it’s also because it’s that good.” He took a deep breath, and let it out in an exhaled, “Holy crap, Thorn.”

Pride, a glowing, burning pride, burst to life in his chest. He couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face.

“D’you think I should sell it?” he asked, trying to play it cool. “If it’s that good, it’ll probably go for a lot.”

“Dude, I almost wanna say no.” Bramble shook his head, but it was more a gesture of awe as he turned back to the painting. “It’s just… it’s so pretty. I mean, if you wanna sell it, but…” He shrugged. “If I were you, I would keep it.”

“I dunno…”

“It’s up to you.”

Truth was, he really didn’t know. It definitely would go for a lot on the market. Maybe enough to get him the rest of the way to Kheone. But… really, Bramble was right. It was just so pretty. He almost didn’t want to part with it. He always tried not to get to attached to his art, but sometimes it couldn't be helped.

He looked over to Bramble for advice, but Bramble had turned back toward the painting and was ghosting above the stars with an outstretched finger, a soft smile on his face. The mini butterflies finally left Aurelian’s esophagus and returned to his stomach, where they flapped around and made a general ruckus. Dumb bugs.

And then, in what felt like a lightning strike of inspiration, he realized what he was going to do with the painting.

He turned his full body to face Bramble and said, “You should have it.”

It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to sink in, but when they did, Bramble whipped his head up so fast he hurt his neck. Rubbing it, he stammered, “Oh… Oh my—no. No. I couldn’t—”

“You love it. I can tell you do. I want you to have it.”

“But—” The protests were weak, and Aurelian could tell that Bramble was fighting hard not to say yes. “You won’t get any—”

He mock-scowled at him. “Don’t make me pull the best friend card. I will do it.”

“It’s just—it’s—”

“You think I could have done this without you? Honestly, I would have given up like that—” he snapped his fingers, “—if you hadn’t been here. And I was really close to giving up a few times there, but… you’d look over and tell me that it looked great so far, and to keep up the good work, and it was like… like…” He struggled for the right words. “It just kept me going. And the mood music? Excellent stuff. I honestly don’t know why you don’t enter any of those festivals. You’re more talented than anyone I’ve ever heard.”

Bramble covered his tiny smile with his hand, his cheeks flushing pink. “I…” His voice was soft, muffled by the hand. “Thanks.”

Aurelian bumped his foot against his. “This is as much your baby as it is mine. I want you to have it.”

A small laugh escaped Bramble. “Wow. Talking about babies already? Take a guy out to dinner first.”

Aurelian rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious.”

“But… but seriously.” The hand fell away, and the smile was back. “Thank you.”

“Like I said. Best friend.”

“Yeah. Best friend.”

They should have left then. Aurelian knew his aunties would be furious. Bramble’s mother would definitely be angry too. But neither of them moved as they sat and watched the sun light the tops of the trees aflame.

Because for now, this moment was a perfect one.

[seouledbysisi]

New World

Chapter 1

Gianna & Mia

Mia ran into Gianna's room jumping up and down on the bed! “Girl you'll never believe what I just read online!” She yelled into Gianna's ear.

Gianna's eyes widened as she covered her ears. “Calm down! Have you been eating candy?”

Mia rolled her eyes. “No, I'm just super excited!” She squealed.

“Obviously! What is it?” Gianna was a bit annoyed. Not because of Mia but more so because of her boss.

Mia could sense that Gianna's attitude was off. She plopped down on the bed. “What's wrong GiGi?”

“My stupid boss is what's wrong.” She whined. “I'll be so glad when I finally graduate and can get away from that hell hole.”

Mia raised a eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I've closed every night since I started working there. I work my ass off pulling double shifts and everything. I ask for one night off so I can study for my finals and he said I have to find someone to cover my shift or else I have to work.” Gianna had been so stressed out lately. It was her last semester in school and it seemed like graduation couldn't get there fast enough.

A light bulb went off in Mia's head. “I have an idea!”

Gianna looked up at her with confused eyes.

“What's Adam's number?” She asked.

Gianna shook her head. “He won't cover for me. He barely likes working his own shifts.” She sighed.

Mia rolled her eyes and snatched Gianna's phone out of her hand. She dialed his number and waited for an answer.

“Hello?” He answered.

Mia exhaled deeply. “Hey this is Mia . I need a huge favor from you.”

He chuckled a bit. “What is it?”

“My best friend has a huge exam next week and if she doesn't pass she won't graduate so I need you to cover her shift tomorrow night if you don't mind.”

He held the phone for a second before answering. “What's in it for me?”

Mia rolled her eyes. “You get recognized as a good person?”

“I'm going to need something more than that!”

“Well what do you want?” She asked. She was becoming annoyed.

He began to laugh a little. “A date. . .with you!”

“Umm no! Something else.”

“Well I guess your friend might not be graduating as soon as she thought. Goodnight!”

Mia sighed loudly. “Wait!” She groaned. “I'll do it.”

“I figured you'd change your mind, pick you up Saturday night around 7.” he said quickly and hung up.

Mia almost threw up listening to his last words. He wasn't ugly but he was annoying and didn't show much respect for women. “You owe me big time!”

“He agreed?” Gianna's eyes widened.

“Only because I have to go on a date with him.” Mia had tears in her eyes.

Gianna hugged her tightly. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Nothing!” Mia smiled.

“I guess we'll both be graduating!” Gianna smiled big.

Mia nodded. She had almost forgot about the news she had to tell Gianna about. “So about what I read!”

”Oh yeah, share the excitement!”

“So, you know how NCT 127 are coming to the States?” Mia started.

Gianna nodded. “Yeah don't remind me. I can't believe the tickets got sold out THAT fast!”

“But that's just it, Gianna! We have another chance to maybe go.”

Gianna cocked her head to the right. “What are you talking about?”

“They're having a contest. It's a writing contest where you have to tell about why NCT is inspiring to you and what they mean to you. They're picking one winner from each state that they're having a concert in.” Mia exclaimed.

Gianna groaned. “So you're going to be that fan girl?”

Mia shrugged. “If it gets me a chance to see Johnny and all of the others then hell yes!”

Gianna giggled. “Well you go girl!” She began to walk away to the kitchen. Mia followed.

“You're the best writer I know, Gianna. I need your skills.”

“So you want me to write this essay for you? No way, you know I'm not into doing all that crazy fan girl stuff. Plus there's no way we'd win.”

Mia poked her bottom lip out. “Pretty please?” She said in a cute voice.

“That cute baby voice is not working on me this time.” Gianna shrugged and sat on the couch.

Mia rolled her eyes. “You have to do this for me! I'm going on a date with Adam for you. You realize how atrocious he is, right?”

“Yeah he is pretty horrible and I do appreciate you but I can't do it. I don't have time.” Gianna sighed.

Mia crossed her arms and pouted. “Did I forget to mention that if we win we get to spend a few hours with them before the concert?”

Gianna turned towards her quickly. “It's not working, Alonna.”

“Okay, I guess you don't wanna spend a once in a life time day with THE Lee Taeyong.” Mia hummed and walked towards her bedroom slowly.

Gianna was being pulled into two directions. She loved Taeyong with a passion, she was probably secretly his biggest fan but school was super important and with her hectic schedule there was no way she'd be able to write something up to par. She didn't want to be the reason that her best friend missed this once in a lifetime chance.

“. . .Ice across my wrist now I can barely see the time. I just made a million and I'm still not satisfied.” Mia walked back out of her room singing.

Gianna squeezed her eyes shut. She groaned. “Cause I need the bag on the regular, I spend the bag on the regular.” She finished singing the line for Mia and did the “regular, huh” dance.

“Don't you wanna hear them sing that live?” Mia asked as she grabbed Gianna's hands.

“When does it have to be submitted?” She asked.

Mia stretched her lips a bit. “Tomorrow by noon but I'll help you study!”

Gianna shook her head. “Oh no!”

“Lee Taeyong! Nakamoto Yuta! Johnny? Doyoung? Please!” Mia was giving her best at persuasion.

Gianna exhaled loudly. “C'mon girl! You better be glad that I'm in love with Taeyong otherwise I wouldn't do this. Plus, hearing Taeil hit his high notes is going to be life-saving.”

Mia grabbed her laptop and they began writing.

“Wait! So how many winners can their be?” Gianna asked quickly.

“So whoever wins will get two up front tickets.” Mia explained.

“But does that mean we both spend the day with them or just one of us?” Gianna wanted to be sure she was going to meet Mr. Lee too.

Mia giggled. “Yes, GiGi! You will meet Lee Taeyong in the flesh.”

Gianna's grin got bigger. “This better be the best essay I've ever written then. So when you think of NCT what's the first word that comes into your mind?”

Mia thought for a moment. “Edge! They have so much flare, they're so different from other groups. Not just K-pop though, just music groups in general. They're not afraid to be different and weird. They have their own style but it works in all the right ways. What about you?”

“Innovation. They incorporate all of these new styles and old styles and make it work. They don't stick to mainstream types of music, they give music life and a new meaning. It's creative to be honest. Kind of like a breath of fresh air.”

Mia smiled big as she was in awe. “The best air!” Mia blushed. “Write all of that. You have a way with words. You're going to be the best journalist ever when we graduate.”

“And you're going to be the best fashionista/stylist ever!” Gianna smiled as she continued to write. “How does their music make you feel?”

“Invincible! Like I could do anything in the world that I set my mind to.” Mia explained and she wasn't lying. NCT's lyrics were deep and they touched her.

Gianna smiled. She put the finishing touches to the essay which ended up being a lot longer than she anticipated but it was definitely a work of art. “You know even if we don't win these tickets, at least they will have some type of confirmation of how great they truly are.”

Mia read over the essay. “If we don't win, something's totally wrong with them.” She giggled and submitted the essay.

“When do they announce the winner?” Gianna asked.

Mia read over the rules and information for the contest. “Saturday. It'll be night here when they announce it but I guess day for them.”

“The concert is in what, 3 weeks?” Gianna asked as she thought of outfit choices. She wanted to scream and jump but that just wasn't in her nature.She was getting a little ahead of herself. They hadn’t even won yet but she liked to be prepared.

“Yeah, and to our luck it's on the weekend.” Mia was so ecstatic.

Gianna sighed. “You might have to go on another date with Adam so he can cover another shift for me.” She laughed.

Mia acted as if she was going to throw up. “This is a one time thing. You're just gonna have to quit your job, ma'am if they won't let you off.”

“I can't afford to quit my job!” Gianna giggled.

Mia raised an eyebrow. “You really don't have to stay at that crappy restaurant. Your mom pays all the bills for this condo. She's willing to give you money, Gi.”

“I don't want her to have to give me money too. She already does enough!” Gianna sighed. She was so grateful for her mom but she didn't want her mom to do any more than she had to.

“The coffee shop is hiring on campus. We don't make as much as you but at least you'd get treated better. Our manager is really nice. Plus we close at 7 so you'd be out of there by 8. I could put in a good word for you.”

Gianna squinted a bit as she looked out at the balcony. “I thought y'all weren't hiring?”

Mia looked confused. “Oh you're talking about when I told Aaliyah that we weren't accepting applications?”

Gianna nodded.

Mia looked away. “I may have lied.”

Gianna slapped her arm. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she's hella annoying! I deal with her enough in our classes, I wasn't about to torture myself anymore.”

Gianna laughed. “Well put me in a good word cause I'm sick of Javier!”

“I can call Marty right now if you want. We need the help because two people are leaving soon.” Mia grabbed her phone and dialed him.

The phone rang and rang. Mia was starting to think he wasn't going to answer. “Talk to me!” he picked up cooly.

“Hey Marty are you busy?” She could hear a lot of rattling in his background.

“Uh no. What's up?”

“So I know we will be having two positions opening, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Have you already filled them?”

“I have a guy lined up. I need someone else too though. You know anyone?”

“My best friend needs another job like asap!” Mia explained.

Gianna simply sat there listening to their conversation.

“You recommend her? Is he a good worker?”

“The best! She's very reliable.”

He became silent for a moment. “She wouldn't be able to start until the week after next week. Is that okay?”

Mia looked at Gianna for confirmation. Gianna nodded eagerly. “That's great! Yes. She can do that.”

“Okay well she can have the job, just bring her to the shop tomorrow so she can fill out some papers. Goodnight, Mia.” He said and hung up.

Gianna pulled Mia into a hug quickly. “Thank you so much for doing that. You're the best for real.”

“It's no more than you'd do for me. You let me live here rent free, I got your back no matter what!” Mia told her.

NCT 127

They were all sitting around the living room in their dorm. “So we all have to decide on the winning essays, right?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah. The managers are giving us free reign with this since it was our idea. We have to pick the best of the best; the essays that speak to our souls the most.” Taeyong explained.

Mark's eyes widened. “Well that got deep way too fast.” He laughed.

Taeyong's eyes snapped to him. “It's supposed to be deep. We have so many fans who didn't get a chance to get tickets for whatever reason, so we need to choose NCTzens who deserve it the most.”

Mark cut his laughter off quickly and nodded.

“We have to choose Vegas' and LA winners first since those are our first stops.” Johnny added.

Doyoung nodded. “We have to make a decision by Saturday. Have any been submitted yet?”

Taeyong looked up the submissions and seen so many. There were a few whose titles stood out to him. He kept scrolling until he came across one of the newest submissions. “A New World.” Taeyong said out loud.

All the guys looked confused. “What you got on your mind,boss?” Haechan asked.

The guys gathered around the computer to see what had Taeyong looking strange. “NCT as a whole brings new concept to music and gives fans, all around the world, the courage to believe in a better and new world that we can all strive in.” Johnny read aloud.

All of the guys faces were shocked in astonishment. “Woah!” They all said collectively as they read the remainder of the essay.

Jaehyun smiled. “I like that! I don't even need to hear anything else.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. We have two more days to receive essays, then and ONLY then will we make a decision.”

“You gotta admit that it will be hard to top that. It gave me chills knowing that someone believes in our mission that much.” Johnny stated.

“Yeah it was great and all but everyone deserves a chance. See y'all in the morning.” Taeyong answered and walked to his, Johnny and Jaehyun's room.

Jungwoo gave Johnny a small smile and rubbed his shoulder. “I know everyone felt what you felt but you know leader-nim is going to do what's best. You never know, something better may come along and maybe not. If that essay is meant to win, it will.”  

Johnny shrugged. “I'm not stressing over it, I just think whoever wrote that has a really good heart and a nice set of writing skills.” He said with laughter.

[kosmicdream]

hey!!! i just read to the most recent update of ffak (my favorite webcomic ive ever read tbh) and i kinda wanna try making my own. did you have the whole story planned out before you started or is it an ongoing thing? also how did you make the website for it? thank you for making such a cool comic!

Thank you so much!! And let me try to figure out a way to answer this properly. My process is a bit complicated to explain because it is very organic. Its almost like I am never done writing it, because I am always letting it grow/stretch and explore as I think about ffak every day, and every night before sleeping I’ll try to brainstorm things I havent thought of. So spending that much mental energy on something, you never really get ‘done’ with writing a story. Even when i eventually finish ffak, im sure i will be still working on it (or things I would have wanted to do.)

However!! Before i started working on ffak, when it was just called HELP! i established many things narratively that I stuck to and have not changed about the story. So I think the process of this comic, in a simple way, could have been broken down like this in.. stages?

1) I laid down the basic framework of the world, such as the functions of king worms specifically, the aiguille family, helpers, several characters (some havent even appeared in the comic yet!), king leadman, as well as antony/rome’s narrative arc/dynamic. that way their character arc was already figured out before the comic started and I knew it would be the central ‘root’ of the story. I knew how i wanted Rome to be introduced, and how he would meet canary, not knowing the connection between canary and his brother. I had a rough idea, even from here, how their character arc would come to a point (and basically what sorts of things the story would likely eventually close on) I also knew the general setting was on moons and how the humans got there, and how advanced society was, and what the red lights “really" were and what they meant..i figured out what ‘vein’ was here.. ect.. many worldbuilding things!!!It might sound intimidating, but this process happened very quickly. I basically figured this out in the.. day? before i started working. I have had a lot of experience with roleplaying so i think that helps with me making quick decisions. I knew i had enough to work with that I didn’t feel intimidated to start actually drawing it out-- especially because i had the rome/antony thing already set down. 2) Then when I actually started to work, things started to develop very quickly. I knew basically all i needed to for Hekatons before i got to introduce knife (their origins, history, involvement in present day politics) and before ch6 i also wrote all of the “supporting cast” (at the time) which included dylan, fork/spoon/knife, paper/scissor/rock. So i ws able to write Thumb and Heel, and set up the overall dynamic of what the world was like in the present day. (also Spoon/Scissor’s connection.) Cash was actually written in the first batch of characters oops, but her design really became more detailed during this stage because of scissor. 3) then things got more complicated as i dug deeper into the past, and wanted to include crimson. So!! I fleshed out the origin and true history of this world. basically as soon as crimson appeared I had everything in place and felt comfortable enough to include crimson, who borrowed many things narratively from a character i roleplayed for years. Anyway, i figured out all of the deep past of the world and decided to draw it out since it was so interesting in ch 9/10. I think this was around in the 2nd chapter when i figured this out, but my memory is fuzzy. I know by the time i did the flash forward scene in ch2 i had decided many things and so all i had to do was get to them in the comic to cement it in. 4) I forget when exactly (maybe around in chapter 5 or 6) , but i decided to bring in a very old story i wrote in 2009 for good leadman’s origin story-- as i thought it would be cool to make good leadman the protagonist for this old comic i wanted to do, and that helped make the background for heel and thumb more “believable” to me because they were already symbolizing this old story i had written the entire thing of. Oh that’s something else to mention, because that world was part of a collection of stories- i was able to develop DMTIA that way because i already had this cast and just decided to merge the stories into the FFAK setting. I think when i did this, it pretty much was the final big thing to make me understand everything i needed to know about this world. All the story arcs felt pretty realized and I could see how the ending could go at this point.

I guess to summarize, is that i let things grow but also had things planned from the start and once i commit to an idea, it doesnt change. Even if it might appear somewhat frustrating to work with, i like to use them to make my next decision. sometimes that means i dont get to do all i want to do, but i still have a lot of flexibility in this setting like i wanted to have from the beginning.

Even now when i feel like pretty confident that I’ve explored every nook and cranny, I’ll decide to revisit a older storyline or facet of the world and strengthen or build on that. That’s why i ended up with so many fucking side characters because I’ll brainstorm for them for a day or two and suddenly have a lot of material i know wont even “technically” go into the story even though its there. (like, Spot for example was not meant to be so interesting, but i wrote a huge fucking story for him that obviously wont get really any attention.)

So.. its ongoing and it is also not ongoing and hasnt been for quite a long time now? (after two years of constant work it felt.. really complete and done in a lot of ways. we are now currently on year three, moving to year four!) I think the best thing to do is to keep in mind what kinds of methods for writing make you feel comfortable and is your natural brain-pace. I like working with an aspect of fluidity and room for growth and flexibility because i don’t like being boxed in or “outgrowing” my project too fast. So keeping that in mind, i designed ffak to be a comic where it could grow with me and change. that’s pretty much why i decided worms would be a great subject and theme to work with because they are characters that naturally, evolve and change based on what they eat and absorb. plus the themes in ffak just are so fun to work with i will never be bored of it. structuring a project with these things in mind for when i run into walls or feel unmotivated have kept me engaged. I think that is part of why i cannot let it go because I still feel really excited to write and contribute ideas to it.

However, Chapter 12 really feels like I’m settling back down to my original plans and taking my time and patience to communicating all the structured planning ive put into it. I’m not letting it grow the same way anymore because it doesnt need to. I feel comfortable with understanding its voice/style and pacing and im no longer recovering from the uhh.. shock of it existing? I promise that once you actually start making a comic, its a wholly different experience than just it being in your head. and it will sound, look, and feel different than what you thought it would be-- that in itself has influenced a lot of change in ffak because honestly at first i was not expecting to draw it so explicit. that was difficult to get used to but im happy to have embraced that aspect of my work.

So HMM.. I made a strong spine or foundational backbone in the beginning before i started, then fleshed it out as i was in the process of making it, and i always continue to leave room for it to grow. just not grow in EVERY aspect anymore. i also dont chop down branches, but i try to hone in on specific things to make them more clear. i think chopping stuff down and removing things is generally not the best to do because its easier to build up and work with what you have than make big retcons after youve already started or established. also the challenge of working with limitations makes you feel that needed bit of pressure to really commit to your work in the moment of making it and i feel like its helped make me more serious and confident about what i write about. I never feel lost on what to do because if I cover and figure out something, that’s how it is. I make it work regardless! 

everything is done with careful consciousness to the overall balance and product of the story, while also not suffocating it in a box of limitations of what it could be. i treat it like a living thing in my mind and heart and that means i work to have thoughtful conversations with it and myself about what its needs are, what my needs are, what i want to do with it and what it wants to be.. ect. its almost a spiritual thing really. i feel like its important to always reflect and engage with your art and art process to feel a stronger connection and purpose behind what you are deciding to do and what it means to you. i am probably repeating myself a little here but!!!!!! its worth saying!!!!!!!!! 

I also really think it adds to the interesting and fun “layers” to the story, as there has been different stages to its development and it brings in different feelings with each layer. But then the older or more ‘’foundational’’ ones pop in and they seem to give off a different atmosphere (antony and rome) vrs some of the newer additions (like jacket) who are more for shallow, fun decoration or an interesting potential to explore in the future. Like, Jacket is not a character that has a lot of foundational plot connected to him, but he’s an interesting development in terms of the potential of a worm and symbolizes that early-ffak-mindset of growth and experimentation. so i think it makes him a really unique and fun character because he embodies a lot of new and old aspects of ffak’s narrative and my journey with working on the comic.

I could go on and on, but I hope this sort of gives some insight to my process and how I write/work. because in a lot of ways, it isn’t linear. just like how my comic is! sometimes this makes ffak very disorienting for people to read, but if you keep in mind that ffak is very organic and personally tailored to my mannerisms  and with that in mind, it makes a lot more sense why it is how it is and the patterns in it become much more apparent. Anyway! thank you for reading and good luck working on your own stories! it can be challenging but i think it is absolutely worth the effort. 

Also i did not make the website, my good friend Tegan did. :3 i do not know anything about websites.

[virtual-crisis]

⭐Alpha Centauri⭐

Yes, you heard right, my..... Er, 43 followers [goddamnit my follower count on my main blog is the homestuck number as of writing]. I've started up a new story here, and this one's actually original [albeit dipping into a few fandoms, but it doesn't owe its plot to them]; this one's about an awkward college student that's roommates with an.... Interesting individual, to say the least. Stay tuned if this first part is engaging to you.

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Darkness. All I saw was the black of the void. It got darker in pulses for a few moments before growing light on one side. Why? Well, probably because my head was leant on my arm. I winced once more before lifting my eyes off my forearm—I’d dozed off mid toilet break… Lovely.

I groaned, sitting up. I wanted to check the time, but my phone was in my pocket, and my pajama pants were pulled down to my ankles, so I looked out the window. Solaris was pulling its lower half out of the horizon line off to the East, which meant I’d REALLY conked out, considering it was night when I’d sat down. Oh well, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about anything else having to “exit my premises”.

I stretched my arms for a moment before grabbing a long strip of toilet paper and finishing up on the toilet. After that, I skipped over to the sink to wash my hands, then headed back into my connected bedroom.

By this point, I realized while playing narrator that I should probably tell you who the Hell I am. Oops.

So, name’s Alyssa. I’m a college student at Boston University, studying software engineering with a minor in the arts. My parents encouraged me to make good use of my scholarship by going for a PhD, so I could get a really good, high-paying job relatively early on. At twenty-six years old, I’m on my third year for that doctorate, and I’m yet to see this path make itself a mistake. No dead end career, no crippling debt, none of that.

In the meantime, I’d gotten dressed: a pale blue t-shirt, with a blue plaid skirt and black shoes. Covering my legs was my favorite garment—A set of leggings patterned like a starry sky, with various blues, purples and greens under the white dots. Aside from clothes, I held a Hispanic complexion, a fuckton of freckles, and a glossy pair of blue eyes to go with my long, black hair.

As I fumbled around to get my backpack open and my phone inside, I walked myself through the past week’s lectures, mentally. Lots of boring C++ and script writing, but one can’t make the fun stuff without the bare basics.

Thinking on basics reminded me of food, so I closed my bag and headed to my dorm room’s kitchen, where my roommate was seated at the table.

Yeah, uh, my roommate. She was… Green. Bright green and glowing. Not unlike uranium, because that was exactly what she was.

While she had a form that looked human like myself, she was anything but. She said her parents call her a “uranium atronach,” but in layman’s terms, she’s a demon. From Hell.

Yes, I’m serious.

My hand reflexively went over my mouth and nose. “Hey hey, whoa, what’d I say about going all radio in the kitchen?”

The demoness—going by “Tyler” for her human guise—tensed up, pulling on the mask of a hazmat suit she wore in her “pure” form. “Oh fuck, right, I forgot about that,” she said, voice muffled by her mask as she glanced over to me. “Morning Ally, how’d you sleep?”

“Like a damn rock. I fell asleep in the bathroom.”

“Shit, that sucks. Maybe should’ve gone earlier….”

“Oi, I can’t control my ass like that.”

Tyler snorted, before chuckling under her suit. I stared blankly for a moment, before joining her as I went to grab a container of cup ramen to heat up.

“Alyssa,” she said, “do me a favor and never think before you talk to me.”

“Whoever said I did?” I quipped. “Now come on, I got dressed already. You go change into your flesh-suit-thing so we’ll be ready for class.”

Tyler sighed, getting up. “C’moooooon, I just put my mask back on,” she groaned.

“Oh hush, I took like ten seconds to wake up and get moving. That’s like, dangerously fast for me.”

Tyler broke out laughing as she stepped past me to leave the kitchen, and I laughed with her. Once she was out, I turned to the microwave, glancing at the ramen cup. “Microwave for three minutes”. Pfft. I set it to six to be thorough—never could trust the shitty appliances in these dorms.

Soon, a caucasian human girl came into the kitchen wearing a t-shirt for some dime-a-dozen death metal band and jeans she’d cut wear into herself with a knife. Tyler’s ‘human’ form, though she didn’t do a good job of staying inconspicuous with her ‘isotope-green’ mohawk flipped over on the side of her head. Like some dumb 2070’s cyberpunk hacker or something.

I stared blankly at her. “...What’s with the hair?”

She furrowed her brows, swatting a hand in my direction. “Stoooooop asking that every time I change.” she whined in annoyance. I just snickered in response.

Once my ramen was ready, I pulled it out and seasoned it to start eating. Tyler grabbed another cup from the fridge to do the same. I went ahead and headed into the living room, sitting down and flicking through channels aimlessly on the TV. Very little of interest, even on the cartoon channels. The cartoons were just a bunch of mindless pandering to kids’ amusement at randomness, and the rest was either boring news or inane soap operas.

“I wonder if that’s what it’s like to be schizophrenic.”

I blinked, looking over at Tyler. “...What?”

“...Y’know, hearing voices in your head. Or would ADHD be more accurate? Fuck if I know.”

I looked back at the TV, then her again. “...What the fuck?”

She shrugged, sitting next to me. “What’re you even on the cable for anyway? None of these shows are good.” she said, grabbing for the remote.

I held it away from her. “Nooooo, I wanna flick through them. If I watch youtube I’ll just be stuck there for hours.” I whined.

“But youtube’s actually FUN to watch. You get to see people being idiots for others’ entertainment!” Tyler whined back, putting one hand around my shoulders and trying to grab the remote with the other.

“You get that on these stupid shows too if you think about it enough!”

“But I thought you didn’t like thinking!”

“I- agh!” I yelped as Tyler toppled both of us over, flopping on top of me. Fortunately, whoever teaches demons about imitating humans doesn’t get skeletons right, or it would’ve hurt a lot more than it did in this instance. “Ugh… Get off me, fatass…”

Tyler huffed, shifting position to lie on top of me casually and snatch the remote from my hand. “Pff, or what, you’ll thump me on the head? No.” she teased. I rolled my eyes, shifting and struggling to get my legs up under hers since I was stuck there either way.

“...Whatever. Put on one of those ghost pepper challenge tags.”

“Ew, no, that’s a minefield of people like, hiccupping in really gross ways.”

“Not if you know the right channel.”

Tyler scoffed, leaning over to grab an Xbox controller off the coffee table. She used it to turn on and navigate our shared Xbox to its Youtube app, where we spent a good hour or two watching dumb videos of dumb people doing dumb things. It was amusing for the time being.

Eventually, Tyler’s alarm went off on her phone, signaling we had to get the hell out of our dorm and off to class. Tyler was quick to turn off the TV and urge me to get up, but I’d half dozed off underneath her, and my legs had fallen asleep.

“I don’t wanna go to school…” I whined.

Tyler rolled her eyes. “Hey dumbass, you’re already IN school.”

“Well I don’t wanna already in school……”

Tyler snorted in amusement for a moment… Before grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me off the couch. “Come on you lazy ass, time to learn how to speak robot.”

I sighed in frustration, wrestling away from her and stumbling a bit as my legs got used to having to move again. “Ugh, fine. But what if I don’t wanna-”

Tyler put a hand over my mouth. “You literally asked to learn how to talk to robots.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling away from her again and turning to saunter out the door of our room. “Whatever…”

Class was uneventful. Another lecture on the inner workings of computer programs. I’d been taught a good bit of software engineering by my mom, growing up, but even she was reading the ‘For Dummies’ book on it. Something something binary, something something programming project, something something research on the developments of programming over the decades.

I elected to spend the afternoon dicking around with some old CD-ROM games that my parents had let us get a hold of to use for school stuff. ‘Us’ as in me and my little brother, Nate.

“So how do you think they programmed the shadows to move in real time? It has to generate a new silhouette texture on the ground every time the model is hit by a new light source.”

He’s about three years younger than me, so I act as his tutor. After all, he decided to take the same major as me, albeit minoring in culinary arts.

“I’m surprised it doesn’t drop the framerate when you pass between rooms, thinking on that. The shadow textures are probably really compressed, since you don’t have to worry about all the details of the actual character model.”

You can definitely tell the food-loving part from a glance—he’s more than a little chubby, same with me—though his real passion’s making new worlds through computer programming. Me, I just love turning reality inside-out through the possibilities of game design.

“Oh yeah, we were talking polygons in class last week. Maybe we should pull up a rendering program and get a closer look at it.”

Call us nerds, but we’re the kind of people that make games for people to be nerds about, so at the end of the day it’s a compliment.

“Nahhhhh, let’s go look for a video on the topic. There’s bound to be some cool stuff talking about atoms and pixels or some shit like that.”

Nate chuckled in response to my suggestion. “Okay, okay, I’ve got lessons on matter states coming up in science anyway.”

The afternoon went by as one would expect with two cheerful, get-along-y siblings like us. Of course in this, I neglect to mention my older sister, Paula. She might not’ve been there now, but she had recently finished her studies in social sciences, supporting us from three terms ahead. Nowadays, she’d be vacationing up in Europe somewhere, but Nate and I always enjoyed when she’d visit, and it’s better I mention her now than have it come as a surprise later.

Before long, we were listening to dubstep and collaborating to make a mock-up of a platformer game. It was a moth and beetle skittering and flying through the rafters of a rave venue. Lots of lights, lots of colors, and nice, complex character models to play with. Nate kept saying to make it run well in time with the music we listened to, but I complained that we’d need music of our own. He retorted that we weren’t really gonna publish it for money anyway. I said, “Fair point,” and we put in some of our favorite tunes and built levels around them. Man, I envied people with synesthesia- they’d have a field day fusing visuals and music for something like this.

As if I’d summoned her or something, Tyler proceeded to walk in on us. “Holy shit you guys, that’s like fifteen songs too many at once.”

“What?” I called, cupping a hand to my mouth. “I can’t hear you over the great-a-f music!”

“UGH.” Tyler grunted aloud, putting up her hands. “I’m supposed to be reading physics textbooks this afternoon!”

I immediately hit mute on Nate’s computer. He seized up reflexively, blinking several times in surprise. “Woah, what the f-” he cut himself off to shake his head.

“Alright, alright, go soak up the universe or whatever that prof’s got you doing.” I said in a slightly mocking tone.

Tyler scoffed, walking to her bedroom. “Yeah yeah, I’m soaking up a lot more than the universe, I’ll tell you that.”

I watched her disappear past the door, before looking to the clock on the computer. “Oh shit, I’ve got art class in half an hour.” I said.

Nate leaned back as he closed most of his music tabs and set the volume to low. “Time for me to go, then?”

I snorted, waving a hand. “Hey, miss Manhattan isn’t gonna possess you or anything—she would’ve done that to me long ago if she had any plans to, heh.”

He shrugged, switching back to his Notepad++ window to make notes on changes he was making to the program. “Eh, true. Maybe I can ask her for some suggestions here…”

“Ah, I wouldn’t bother her with it. She’s got a lot of nuclear shit to read about.”

“Oooh, I can go talk through atomic physics with her, then.”

I snorted again. “Hey, leave her alone, ‘kay? And don’t go eating our food either.” I said, getting up to go switch out notebooks in my room so I’d have my notes for art class—oh right, and my sketchbook. I didn’t use it much, but my professor would chew me out if I didn’t have something of the sort available.

In art class, a couple of my classmates I sat next to were muttering about how the professor looked like Bob Ross, lecturing about color theory. I was too busy blending neon rays and spotlights to bother with their gossip. While some of the others were painting dainty flowers and landscapes, I had dubstep coursing between my ears, translating to rave lighting painting colors on a white moth—a kind of bug I’d always adored—and marking charcoal over the negative space to give an especially blatant night atmosphere.

For a while, I could feel eyes over my shoulder. I glanced over, and one of the other girls was watching me put color to paper. She blinked, and waved at me. “Oh, whoops, didn’t mean to stare.”

I glanced away for a moment, then back to her. “Er, yeah, hey. What’cha want?”

She shrugged one arm. “Well, wanted to let you know there’s a game next week. Gotta practice tomorrow, and the captain’s been upset about you being late recently…”

I stared for a moment, before thumping my head on my sketchbook. Cheer practice. I knew I was forgetting something. Between all the academic stuff I was juggling, I was on the cheerleading team too, and oh god I did not enjoy the physical exertion. I’ve always been a lazy and sedentary person, but I direly craved the love and attention cheerleading could bring. Dad said it wasn’t a good idea for someone so averse to exercise as me, but mom said it could be a good way to get some activity in here and there.

“God, jeez, I forgot about it again, thanks for the heads up…”

“You really oughta get one of those calendar apps to remind yourself—all the rest of us use ‘em.”

“Yeah, but those take time to set up…”

“Well someone’s gotta take the time to remind you…”

I groaned. “Fine, fine, I’ll get to it when I’ve got a chance…” I muttered. That, of course, was a flat lie.

Both of us winced as the professor called us back to attention, specifically calling us two out for ‘gossiping’. Oops.

When I got out of class later, Tyler swung by to bring me to a restaurant for dinner. Nothing fancy, but it was a good quality pizza place, not some ‘drive-thru’ pizza hut. Tyler said she couldn’t tell a difference, but I for one actually had a stomach, rather than some boundless void concealed only by a sphere of whale blubber. Demons being ‘superior beings’. The one I lived with was a superior lack of standards for food.

“God, this pizza’s great. Imagine people COMPLAINING about this being unhealthy.”

“Right? Shit’s delicious, who cares how greasy or high calorie it is?”

I nodded to Tyler’s remark, glancing around. “Best part’s when they put pineapple on it. Real shame they don’t have that here.” I said aloud. I could practically feel people around us squirm.

“I thought you didn’t like-?”

I waved a hand at Tyler to shut her up, quietly shushing her. I motioned at another table with my eyes, where one guy had literally facepalmed Captain Picard style because of my lie about pineapple pizza. We quietly snickered with eachother.

I motioned a hand coyly at her after a minute. “So why didn’t you tell me about cheer practice tomorrow, jackass?”

Tyler rolled her eyes. “I already set my phone to ping you for class, I’m not your cheer team reminder too.”

I huffed, pouting and looking away. “Gee, I thought roommates were a thing to help eachother out.”

“You’re LAZY. El-ay-zee-why. When’s th-”

“I’m ALSO a straight-A student.”

“When you remember to DO your projects.”

“Which is always! I’m literally a professional procrastinator!”

“It’s not literally if you don’t make money from it.”

“Check the dictionary, dumbass, some idiots online got it changed to also mean figuratively.”

Tyler scoffed haughtily, rolling her eyes and going back to eating.

Fast forward a few days. I managed to catch a date with one of the jocks on the football team- him asking me out, surprisingly. I decided not to tell him I was leaning lesbian recently, ‘cause honestly, I was fine going either way. Though if it turned out well, I’d probably have to tell him… Well, nevermind.

The date was kinda boring. He wanted to hang out at a nice bar and grill, get a drink or two, a hearty course of burgers and fries. A great effort, considering the dumbasses he played alongside. I found it kind of dull though—only thing we could really connect over was football, me as a cheerleader, and him as an athlete. His main coursework was in economics, and mine was in software engineering, so neither of us could really make sense of the other’s intellectual interests in that regard.

We decided against talking through more… Recreational interests.

“Sooooo, how’d it go, succubitch?” Tyler said tauntingly when I got home. ‘Succubitch’—pretty obvious what demons like her thought of their lustful counterparts. Then again, she was a demoness of envy. And gluttony. But the latter’s obvious just at a glance—I call her ‘fatass’ for good reason.

“I told him it was a very nice time and that I enjoyed it.” I said, sticking up my nose at her.

“So you hated it.” she retorted, smirking and raising a brow.

I glared at her. “I did not! It was just… Kind of boring? He asked if we could go again some time, and I…”

“Spat in his face?”

I put up my hands. Tyler was sneering evilly. Even for her, this was excessively mean. “No! I told him to maybe look for a girl he can find more to talk about with!”

“Oooooh, he’s gonna be crying about that at the frat house~”

“Shut up!” I whined. Tyler just laughed.

[din-skywalker]

The Long Walk Home

So this is my entry thing for @therealjacksepticeye ‘s septicart thing. I know it’s probably only for drawing and fanart, but it’s called septicart. Writing is an art. So I wrote this because I can write and not draw. This is based off of a scene from the book “IT” by Stephen King. I of course had to write it to be about Jack and Anti in present times, but I think this is one of my best writing pieces! Anyway, here we go:

As Jack trudges through the thick blanket of snow covering the ground around him, he pulls at the strings of his hood, trying to better shield his face from the buffeting cold and snow filled winds. He mutters to himself silently, his warm breaths of air making small, white clouds form in front of his face. He had been out at the library earlier that day, researching things the old fashioned way when after he’d gotten that nostalgic feeling to use an encyclopedia again. He had rode there in a taxi but quickly lost track of time while inside the walls of the library, forgetting to charge his phone and keep an eye on the passage of daylight. By the time he was finished reading about whales he had realized that the sun was beginning to set and his phone was dead. He would have stayed to charge, but the library was closing and he had to leave.

So, here he is now, the thick jacket he brought hardly doing anything to keep him warm with the gushes of wind hitting him from all angles. Luckily, his house isn’t too far away from the library. It’s only a mile. He’d just wanted a taxi ride this morning because why walk when you can get a ride? Now he’s wishing he had another ride.

As he nears the bridge that arches over the large river which runs through his town his eyes begin to water because of the harsh winds. He blinks rapidly to try and clear his vision, blowing at a stray strand of green hair as it falls into his face. He doesn’t want to remove his hands from his pockets because they’ll freeze if he does and he’s just now gotten them warm in his pockets. He steps onto the bridge and partly remembers that this is the halfway mark between the library and his house. That thought improves his stride and lifts his spirits slightly.

A putrid smell hits his nose as he reaches the middle of the bridge. The smell is so terrible he has to stop as his nostrils burn and the scent travels down his throat, making him want to throw up so badly he leans on the railing of the bridge for a moment. He coughs a little, the horrid smell of rotting flesh surrounding him. He shakes his head to try and clear his nostrils of the horrid scent but it remains. He lifts his head, swallowing heavily against the bile rising in his throat to glance around, searching for the source of the smell. He vaguely thinks that any person with half a brain would already be gone, the smell warning anyone of some kind of danger. But Jack felt drawn to stay oddly enough. In the back of his mind he knew he should leave, but.. he felt like he had to see what was causing the stench.

He angles his head backwards, squinting his eyes to better see through the screen of rushing snow as he glances out over the railing onto the frozen water. His eyes widen at the sight.

There, standing on what should be too thin of ice, was the figure of a man slowly moving towards the bridge. Jack clears his throat and straightens up, keeping one hand wrapped so tightly around the freezing railing that his knuckles began to change to white, heart thumping loudly in his ears.

Hey there, Jackie, the voice was in his ears, in his head, everywhere and he could hear nothing but the scratchy tone that sounded so similar to a hissing snake. It had the lilt of an Irish accent, similar to Jack’s, which was slightly strange because he’s in Brighton, not Ireland. It’s a bit cold out for a walk, dontcha think?

Well, yeah, of course it’s way too damn cold, he already knew that. He slowly blinks and swallows heavily, taking a small step backwards as the figure draws nearer. He hadn’t been expecting the face of the man to look just like his.

The man looks just like him. Has the same face, the same green, dyed hair, same structure and the same kind of clothing Jack wears during the summer. The only difference would be that the man appears to be a few inches taller… and the fact his eyes are glowing a vibrant green, head tilted back with a twisted grin splitting his face. And as Jack notices how he has on only a thin, black t shirt with black and ripped jeans, he wonders how the hell this strange man isn’t freezing currently.

And, for some reason, Jack can’t look away from those glowing green eyes.

Do you wanna warm up, Jackie? It continues to speak and Jack knows it’s an it because this man could not really be a man. Now as his vision further adjusts to the darkness of this winter night he can see how the pale skin on the look alike is cracking, peeling in the violent winds. Bits of its skin is slowly ripped from its body, mixing with the snow as it blows away. Jack then takes notice of the green balloon that is being held tightly in its hand, blowing towards him… against the wind. How the hell is that possible? It should be buffeted backwards, not forwards. Here, do you want a balloon? See how it floats?

Jack knows he should flee. But he feels suddenly paralyzed and he cannot move away, only able to meet the peering gaze of whatever it is. It is stepping ever closer, raising the balloon in an offering fashion as it grins up at him, sharp and pointed fangs shining with a layer of saliva. Jack nearly screams as more of the skin peels away from its chest and a wave of spiders crawls from its flesh, spreading outwards and across its body. And even with one of his worst fears pouring from the creature’s chest he still can’t move, only able to watch as more and more of the small and black monsters cover its body, taking on the appearance of the black t shirt with how many of them there are.

You’ll float, too, Jackie, the creature whispers in his brain and he had forgotten about the other, larger monster because of the spiders. He let’s out a surprised gasp as the green balloon is now directly in front of his face. He falls onto his ass, eyes widening as a crumbled and cracked hand lands on the edge of the bridge between his legs, sharp nails digging into the stone surface. He screams as some of the spiders crawl from the hand onto his legs, each one being around the size of his hand. Their long and spindly legs arch as they climb towards his knees, their eyes seeming to glow a bright red. Their pincer like mouths open and close repeatedly, snapping out from their long and hairy faces and he screams again, batting at his legs, kicking at the slick and snowy ground. A few of the large spiders manage to stay clinging on as he scampers to his feet, slapping crazily at them, forgetting about the much larger threat pulling itself over the side of the bridge, the grin wider, reaching from ear tip to ear tip as it watches the scene unfolding.

Only when the final spider is knocked from his leg does Jack remember the horrid smelling lookalike that is now standing directly behind him, green balloon somehow floating directly beside his face. He slowly turns, breath catching in his throat as he’s met with the green gaze of the monster directly above him, eyes shining dangerously as a hand slowly begins to raise. He’s once more paralyzed as the spider covered hand reaches out for his shoulder, hardly able to even breathe as those piercing greens peer into his very soul, pinning him there. That’s when the large, bug like leg extends from the creature’s back, landing on the ground near his feet. This leg is soon followed by three more and a huge, armoured face emerges from behind the monster’s head, two, green glowing eyes landing on him.

He knew then that if he did not move, if he did not run, he would be devoured by one of these terrifying monsters. Unless they were the same thing, merely working together. But that thought did not come to mind as Jack slapped the spider covered hand away from him with a low growl, feet slamming the ground with soft thuds as he begins to sprint away, eliciting an unearthly roar from one of the two creatures.

Jack stumbles as he runs from the bridge, right foot hitting a patch of ice that nearly causes him to slip, to fall. But he catches himself, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he steps into the blanket of snow, making him run faster than he had ever thought possible. Clouds of his quick breathing continuously hits him in the face, making it even more difficult to see where it is he’s going. His legs only seem to move even faster when hears footsteps behind him, making the snow crunch loudly and he is too terrified to look over his shoulder. He loses sight of where it is he is running, everything turning to a blur as he just runs.

He only stops when he trips, falling to his knees, hands falling into the snow as the white stuff bites at his skin. That’s when a shadow falls over him, masking his view of any light. He slowly peers over his shoulder, heart stopping at the sight of the man towering over him, those spider like legs sticking from his back still, the head continuing to raise as the legs shift, pushing away from the creature.

You’ll float too, Jackie, the voice growls now and that’s the only thing he can hear, even over his own heartbeat, over the howling of the wind, over the hissing and choppy squeals of the gigantic spider. Come join the clown and you’ll float too…

The last sign that Jack had been walking home was the sound of his pained scream, echoing through the windy and dark night like a ghost.

____

I hope y’all enjoyed!

And Jack, if you read this, know that you helped me start writing again. It had always been my dream to become an author since I was younger but at one point I had lost my spark. You inspired me to write again. It maybe fanfiction, but fanfiction writing is better than no writing. So thank you for helping me to find my passion again.

[interviewtion]

Slumbers Interviewtion

Slumbers is a dream-pop band originally from the Rochester, NY area. The band is made up of Claire McClusky, Sabrina Nichols, and Emma Willer. They craft super catchy songs about relatable - and sometimes dark - themes. In this interview they talk about writing together despite the long-distance relationship of the band, touring throughout American and Europe in support of their album, and recording their next collection of songs. 

Q: You just recently finished up a pretty extensive tour, so what was it like for you to get to play your music for people all over America and other countries as well?

A: It was great to meet new people who like and have been listening to our songs. People were very supportive and it was inspiring, you know. It was nice to see that there are spaces and groups that make fun shows happen pretty much everywhere. Even in tiny towns people would turn out and maybe know one person playing or who put things together, but they are down for anything. It just was nice and kinda surreal to feel so welcomed and appreciated.

Q: What was the most interesting experience you all had while on this recent tour?

A: Probably that someone got our album art tattooed after hearing us play for the first time.

In Toronto we played a really fun show with this awesome band called Quaker Parents. It was in the basement of a big venue, and upstairs one of our favorite bands, Bellows was playing. It was weird and funny because you could hear their show well from the bathroom. Anyways there was this group of kids that came and were very excited to see Boyscott. Then the next day, one of these people messaged us asking if we’d mind if they got a tattoo of our album artwork. They did it and we shared it on our insta if you wanna check it out. So wild and we are very honored.

Q: It’s been over a year since Come Over was released, so what has it been like to hear the reactions people have had to those songs, especially since they’re so personal?

A: We are happy to hear people relate to our songs. Makes us not feel like weirdos and a little less lonely. It is weird to hear reactions from people we know and have known for a while now but we are getting over that. We are lucky that this many people have heard our songs too, it’s crazy that anyone listens to us when there is so so much music in the world, but we are really happy people do.

Q: You’ve mentioned in other interviews that your songs usually start with one of you making a demo then sending it to your bandmates to help flesh it out. Do you find it hard to collaborate with each other when you’re physically separated, or do you like the process of working digitally to lay the groundwork for new songs?

A: Sometimes it is easier to see how a song is forming when we work digitally, it also gives each of us space and time to think about it and learn it a little bit better. However there are times when we are all together practicing and we throw out ideas and they work on the spot too. We like to think we are all very similar, but maybe we have just all known each other for a while. Either way, we can normally trust each other to lay down cool parts for song ideas that come from such personal parts of us. It’s not too hard to collaborate when we are physically separated because we are very open with each other and communicate frequently through messages, demos, video calls, and documents and stuff.

Q: Do you ever write lyrics for songs and then end up backpedaling on them? As in, do you ever write something that might be a little too personal and uncomfortable to share, or do you try to be as honest as possible no matter what?

A: I think we all change lyrics at times, especially since we tend to write very personal things about specific feelings we’re having. Although sometimes we leave those things in because we like to be honest and we have been finding that people really relate to lyrics that are honest and deep. Sometimes we aren’t ready to share that much though.

Q: On first listen, your songs sound like happy pop-rock songs with sweet melodies, as long as you don’t pay attention to the lyrics. There’s a contrast of music that sounds happy-ish and lyrics that deal with some dark themes. Was this an intentional decision or does it just come naturally in the way you all write?

A: I think it sort of comes naturally. We all have gone through some rough patches, being in college can be tough at times and even though our lyrics can be dark, we write happier melodies with them because sadness is only temporary and you need those dark times to enjoy the good ones. Happy melodies definitely help distract you from sad feelings too. A lot of times when we go to play music and write something it is to try to feel better about something we are going through.

Q: What was the process of recording Come Over like?

A: It was very very fun but also stressful. We recorded it in Nashville, where Emma goes to school. Scott Hermo, of the band Boyscott, recorded it all and mixed it all. We recorded in his house (which is actually Emma’s house now, because of a turn in power after a long and tiresome war, a war that tore the community apart, but ultimately was beneficial for the entire state) and did 7 songs over 4 days. The songs were written already and we had been performing them for a while so it was easy for us to get through them, although it was the first time we’d ever recorded so it was definitely a learning experience. It was a hot week in August and we sweat a lot and splashed in rain puddles.

Q: Do you have plans to record some new songs soon? What’s in store for the future of Slumbers?

A: YES! We are planning on releasing a full length album in spring/early summer of 2018. We’ve already recorded 8 songs over this past August but plan to record some more over winter break. We’re recording again with Scott Hermo (very lucky he is helping us). We’re really excited about this album because it features some songs that were written quite a while ago, and some songs that are actually still in the process of being written. We’ve also become more creative in the recording process and it’s been very fun. Since we’re all finishing up college this year it might be tough to play shows until we’re out of school, but once we are, we’re hoping to keep touring and spreading our music.

Be sure to follow the Slumbers hive-mind over on Twitter and like them on Facebook!