#it’s not the dash-eating monstrosity of before

[nanomooselet]

Episode Three: Bright Light, Shine through the Darkness

Okay, let's try this whole meta thing.

Bright Light, Shine through the Darkness was the episode where I realised I was in some deep trouble. I was aware of Trigun, but never really got around to looking into it until this ep was airing, and the two episodes before were, how can I say, everything I'd been lead to expect? Meryl is so angry and kind and Rosa so cool, and of course to look upon Vash is to adore him, precious darling boy. But I was still waiting for the hook, the reason to continue. Episode three, then: the one where the series finally begins. It's done saluting the work of the past and pivots to the story it's here to tell.

And I had no inkling it would be a story of such deliberate, implacable terror. It opens by telling you a storm is coming, but given that in minutes people are dying by land mines and remote drones, you'd think the storm was already here. Blood splashes! Meryl nearly gets her dumb ass flattened! E.G.'s motives aren't the kind receptive to Vash's forgiveness and whoo boy, for a moment you almost believe Vash will withdraw it. But Meryl turns it around (waaah she's so brave, she and Vash and Roberto made such a good team) and it seems the next challenge will be talking the elder Nebraska out of revenge, because anyone will pick up a gun when their loved ones are killed.

Then the piano rings out, right as Nebraska demands to know whose side Vash is on. It's a haunting, wistful tune and the score fell silent for quite a while first, which makes the notes even more out-of-place. The colour has been drained, everything is shrouded with smoke, and the cinematography has shrunk to mid shots and close-ups. Vash stands there in paralysed in fear for over ten seconds. You forget, in what follows, that we were given fair warning.

Nai was present in the opening scene, and Knives stated his intentions clearly enough at the end of the first episode. We saw this fuse being lit and the detonation still comes as a surprise. Not to mention Knives's influence is felt absolutely everywhere once you know to look for it – the bounty and the threats it inevitably attracts, the military police (and boy do I have thoughts on them, but it's only the final episode that'll come back), even the environment, the insects and birds. Tonis's little cage of buddies that Vash promised he would keep safe! Nothing hasn't felt Knives's fingertips - playing, pushing, manipulating.

Vash has to accept at the end of the episode that there was no longer any way he could avoid facing his brother, not if he wanted the people around him to be safe. While I don't think Knives was out to get Vash on this particular trip, I think he's just fine with Vash believing that's why he was there. Let him think it really is his presence, his “bad luck” that led to this destruction.

It's at least consolation to know Gofsef and his father are still alive at the end, though they're not in the best shape. I missed it the first time. But my God, poor Rosa. Poor Tonis. We never get that manga bit where Vash explains that if he took a life, Rem would never forgive him, but we don't really need to after that.

And when it took time out of Vash's self recriminating angst to show us Meryl also feels responsible, I sat up. She'd been so directly driving the plot so far, but I hardly dared hope for more. It was oddly reassuring.

All in all, fantastic episode, and I haven't even talked about the strongest portions. I hope everyone who worked on it is proud of themselves. I couldn't have asked for better. I'll close on what might have been my favourite moment (and by that I mean for me the most emotionally devastating): Vash crying as he flees the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, pulling blood-spattered Rosa after him.

[astraariel]

you belong with me

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you're in love with Eddie, but he has eyes for Chrissy.

word count: 7.1K

warnings: none!

tags: based on "you belong with me" by taylor swift; no upside down!au; childhood friends to lovers; pining; not actually unrequited love; slight angst; fluff; chrissy's a sweetheart

author's note: for some reason my hyperfixation for eddie resurfaced so lol yeah this is what this is. excuse the grammar mistakes, enjoy ♡

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The trailer park was quiet except for the murmurs and soft noises that the residents made whilst partaking in their nighttime routines. 

The soft ambiance provided comforting background noise as you made your way over to Eddie’s trailer, you were excited to see what movie he had picked from the Family Video tonight.

Eddie and you had made it a tradition to go over to each other’s houses and watch a shitty horror movie while eating pizza to critique said shitty movie. 

This week it was Eddie’s turn to host.

You first met Eddie when you were eight. You had gotten home from school for the day, your mom inside fixing up dinner whilst you played with your jump rope outside. You remember the sun burning down on you but that didn’t deter you from continuing your time for outside playtime.  You had been on your twentieth jump with your pink jump rope when a truck pulled up to the trailer beside yours. Your curious eight-year-old self’s attention diverted to the mysterious boy hopping out of the pickup truck. His denim overalls were loose on him, a strap was unbuttoned showcasing his white ribbed shirt underneath. His gaze met yours, and before you could look away, he offered you a crooked smile, wanna see a trick? You quickly nodded and watched him dash over toward you, his hand had retreated into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards.

Later at dinner, your mom mentioned how the new boy, Eddie, had moved in with his uncle and was going to be your new neighbor. “He’s a little older, but why don’t you play with him after school, honey?”

Funny to think years later that some silly card trick is what caused you two to be inseparable. 

The door swings open before you even make it up the short steps. “You know I've told you multiple times you can just walk in, right? I never lock the door.” 

Your eyes skim over Eddie’s bare arm that was extended, your eyes glance over his recent addition of tattoos that peeked from his sleeves. “Yeah, and I've told you multiple times that that is a safety problem.” You waved a finger in front of Eddie as he swatted it away with a scoff.

The familiar home of Eddie and Wayne’s trailer met your eyes as you slipped your shoes off; Wayne’s copious mugs displayed on the walls always grabbed your attention when you walked into the trailer. They offered a sense of home that you loved so much.

Eddie had gone to his room to fetch the VHS of his movie pick while you busied yourself with grabbing the pizza menu and walking over to the phone to place the order. 

“What do you want, just pepperoni? Or do you want something else - and don't you dare say pineapple.” You call over to him while leaning on the table holding the phone in your hand.

Eddie’s curly hair appears in the hall as he makes his way toward you, exaggeratedly sighing “Fine, just pepperoni.”

He saunters off to the TV before shouting back, requesting garlic bread while fiddling with the VHS. 

You quickly order the food and walk over to the couch where Eddie was sitting waiting for you so he could play the movie. 

“What monstrosity have you picked for us today, Munson?”

♡‧₊˚

The sound of students chattering with each other filled your ears as you were rummaging through your locker.

Your usual attendance of watching the guys play during their band practice was missed Saturday due to your mom requiring you to run errands all weekend so you haven't seen Eddie since Friday. 

Meaning you left Eddie to his own devices for far too long and you're about to unknowingly pay the price.

“Jesus Christ!”

Speak of the devil.

The sound of your locker closing was muffled by the loud shriek that came out of your mouth.

“Eddie, how many times have I told you not to scare me like that?” You sputter out quickly whilst holding a hand up to your chest.

Eddie offers you a sheepish smile, “Sorry, princess, I was just too excited to see you.”

Your heart flutters slightly at the statement. 

The whole “falling for your best friend trope” was a dumb cliche. In the early years of your friendship with Eddie, your mom would make offhand comments about how “oh you two are so cute together” and “you are both so going to fall in love with each other, just watch.” Your kid self always scrunched your nose in disgust and had you turning your head in the opposite direction. But you weren’t sure when the look of disgust turned into you turning your face to hide the blush that was settling on your cheeks. 

And yeah so what if you knew that Eddie Munson drank his coffee with an insane amount of creamer and sugar and how he would never admit it, but that he had a soft spot for ABBA. How he gets this one specific look on his face whenever he’s telling you about the new campaign he’s currently working on; how his eyes glow with excitement just reciting all the things he’s planning on introducing and adding for the guys. That he smiles so wide you can’t help to notice the dimples he has and how they just fit his face. How you want to just kiss him all over and just constantly wish to see him happy and smiling. 

Yeah, you’re totally in love with your best friend.

“So… I was thinking over the weekend.” 

“Oh, that’s never good.”

He ignores your comment by rolling his eyes playfully. “I was thinking that I have been in this hell hole for far too long. And I haven’t done anything memorable.” 

You send a confused look at Eddie, “What about how you have weekly lectures on the lunch tables in the cafeteria, or how you helped raise the drama club funding due to badgering Principal Higgins constantly for a month.” Beckoning for him to explain, you begin to walk to class.

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay, Miss Know-It-All, I meant more…you know.”

“No I don’t know, Eddie.”

He hesitates slightly before continuing “Well, I was talking to the guys and well they think I’m insane but you won't, right?” His wide eyes look over at you expectantly. 

“I guess that depends on what you’re about to say.” you tease.

He was nervous, you noted. He wouldn't meet your eyes as he begins to fidget under your stare. 

He scratches his head before saying, “I'm gonna ask Chrissy to prom.”

You stop walking, your head spinning to Eddie’s. Your eyes were wide open, which were shifting between his own in disbelief. People walked around you but not without complaining and calling out “Watch out” but you couldn't care less about what was happening around you. Your mind was reeling; it was attempting to decipher whether or not he was telling a joke or not. 

He wasn’t.

Fixing your composure you look forward and keep walking. “Isn’t prom in two weeks, that’s kinda a short notice.” You attempt to keep your voice as neutral as possible. 

You had known about Eddie’s crush on Chrissy Cunningham since middle school. It had been during the talent show, Eddie had come after you to gush about how she had looked so pretty waving her pom poms in the air that night. Chrissy had done some cheer routine which had gotten her the most applause putting everyone else's show to shame. Regrettably for you, you were the follow-up after her spectacle. You can’t say your flute solo, which you had worked hard on the week leading up to the talent show, was a show-stopper after that. 

You didn’t hate Chrissy, you never did and probably never would. She, unfortunately, is the nicest person you’ve ever met, she always talks to you when you have classes together, and how she actually complimented you on your flute solo after you had gotten off the stage even though you had messed up the first measure of the song.

You just couldn’t help but compare yourself to her. You wanted to hate her. You assumed it would be easier to hate her, but that wasn’t the case. You simply hated the fact that you weren’t her. You were the complete antithesis of her; it was honestly ridiculous. While she was the head cheerleader, you were in the stands wearing a stupidly hot outfit and a dumb hat while also playing the flute. You weren’t at rock bottom of the social hierarchy but you still weren't high, you were in the band for Christ’s sake. 

You couldn’t fault Eddie for falling for miss pride of Hawkins High, the star-studded cheerleader that was Chrissy Cunningham.

“Well, I heard from the cheerleaders that she rejected Jason Carver already so she’s free and totally doesn't have a date so I figured… well that I would ask her,” Eddie whispers the last part before stopping at your first-period classroom door. “What do you think?”

You shift your gaze to the quickly depleting students in the hall before looking back at your best friend. “You should totally do it.” you say while avoiding his eyes, “I’ll see you at lunch, kay?” 

You walk into your class before he can say anything back, choosing to drown your sorrows in algebra instead. 

♡‧₊˚

Prom had always been a bit of a dream for you. You had fallen for that American high school cliche, ever since you were ten. 

You were driving around with your mom when you passed by Enzo’s and had seen so many people dressed up standing outside waiting in line to get in. Your mom explained to you that it was the senior prom that weekend; since then you had looked forward to the moment in your senior year where you would get to wear your new expensive dress you had bought solely for the event. 

After you had gotten home that day, you had rambled to Eddie for the rest of the evening while he pushed you on the swingset at the trailer park. He had just shrugged you off and stayed quiet. You paid him no mind and ignored him by beaming at his face with a toothless grin, 

“You’ll go with me to prom right, Eds?”

“Only if you let me swing now.”

“Deal.”

You’d like to say you haven't been in love with Eddie till recently but you’d be lying to yourself. 

In your recent years of high school, you found yourself daydreaming about attending prom with your best friend, you always played it off as of course, you’d attend this huge event in your life with Eddie, he was your best friend. If you ignored how much he hated conformist bullshit things such as prom. And each time he got held back, the closer and closer you got to both of you being in the same senior class, your hope grew. 

Of course, those were always cut short whenever you had caught Eddie looking at Chrissy at lunch or he’d rant to you about how she wrote the most beautifully, detailed short story in English that day and how she would make such a great DM. Or how at the basketball game last week when halftime was over and the band was given a break you had gotten water and had spotted Eddie in the crowd; even though he has sworn up and down (and publicly) that basketball was dumb. You had just shrugged it off as him supporting Lucas, but you knew deep down it was because of Chrissy.

But you refused to acknowledge otherwise. 

You should honestly be happy that he’s going to prom now, granted he wouldn’t be going with you. Nor would he take pictures with you. You both wouldn’t awkwardly be posing in your living room together at your trailer as your mom took a million photos along with Wayne taking the day off to see his boy all dressed up for the prom. Or how your fingers wouldn’t tremble while attempting to pin his corsage on his tux hoping you didn’t poke him. Nor would a single shy smile be transpired between the two of you as you walked into the school gym-turned-prom venue.

Nope, he’d be doing that with Chrissy Cunningham. 

You took painstakingly slow steps as you currently walked to your last class of the day. You weren't looking forward to seeing Eddie again. Opting for skipping lunch to wallow in your self-pity in the library instead. 

Therefore, you hadn't seen Eddie since morning when he stabbed you in the heart unknowingly with his newfound decision, and honestly, it was probably for the best. It’s not like you were going to ask him to prom anytime soon anyways.

The sound of your footsteps stopping in front of the classroom reached your ears. “Just play it cool,” you mutter to no one. You took a deep breath and walked into the classroom, immediately heading toward your seat in the back corner.

Eddie was already in the seat beside yours, his wide doe eyes met yours when he hears your steps and flashes you a smile, “Sup, where were you during lunch, Gareth’s mom made these killer cookies today.”

You look over at him, “Oh I went to the library,  I had to catch up on some homework,” you lie.

He didn't say anything back just simply letting out a noise signaling he heard your excuse while nodding.

“Well anyways, about earlier.” he raises his eyebrows, “I’m gonna do it today.” He whispers so that people couldn’t listen in.

“...are you?” your tone was neutral.

He shifts his eyes away from yours. “I need to do it now while I have the confidence because if not, I'm gonna psych myself out,” he nods to himself, “Yeah I'm gonna wait for her after her practice is over.”

You study his side profile. His brown eyes were looking at the ceiling in concentration. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, you find your eyes tracing along his jawline. His hair was a little messy, signaling that he had been running his fingers through it all day. 

Willing yourself to say something, “She’ll say yes, Eddie, and if she doesn’t it’s her loss.” You swallow slightly and offer him a small smile. 

His hopeful eyes look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

♡‧₊˚

“This is officially the worst day ever.” You groan as you walk into the Family Video. 

Steve looks over at Robin from where he was reshelving tapes.

“Uh oh, what happened?” Robin asks reluctantly 

“Everything, Robin, everything that could’ve ever gone wrong, has gone wrong.”

After the whole Chrissy-prom-Eddie fiasco yesterday, you had declared the rest of the day a time for self-pitying. All you wanted to do was lie in bed with the covers drawn and completely shut out from the world so that you could comfort yourself in the sad exile you had made. 

That was until Eddie called. 

Since your blinds were drawn, you hadn’t noticed Eddie coming home earlier. Hence why when the phone rang you almost jumped out of your skin.

Debating whether or not to pick up, you looked at your window longingly knowing who it was on the other side. You ultimately decided to stand up and answer because if you didn't you knew he would just come over instead. And you didn’t exactly what to face Eddie right now, memories rushing to your mind reminded you of how much they were like a slap in the face.

“She said yes.” 

He didn’t even wait for you to say hello before revealing his triumph win. 

You zoned out after that, not processing the dial zone indicating that he hung up already. You could only recall a little after you walked back to your room that he was going to hang out with the guys because he had promised they’d celebrate the news if she said yes. 

The morning had come and gone with you forcing yourself to get out of bed so that you could make it to school today. Eddie met your morning daze with his usual smile when you hopped into his van, you returned it with a small smile but stayed silent. You’d just use the excuse of having stayed up late last night due to catching up on some non-existent homework. Eddie on the other hand took this as permission to gush about how he was finally stoked about something concerning school for once and that he’d be able to share the experience with the girl he had been pining after for years. You simply offer him quiet hums to signify that you were listening. 

School was no different, having forced yourself on autopilot, just mindlessly walking to and from class. You attended lunch today, not wanting to rile suspicion and worry with the group, and chose to suck it up and sit through Eddie rambling about how Chrissy had smelled like strawberries and vanilla while he had asked her the million-dollar question. 

How she, quote, “had the most radiant smile shining up at him the entire time he talked to her.”

You also chose to ignore the smiles and slight waves she offered him when she made eye contact with him during lunch as well.

Yeah, you weren’t having a good day at all.

Your eyes scanned the store, relief settling once you noticed that it was empty except for your two friends seeing as you didn't bother to note if anyone was there before you blurted out about the nightmare that was your life currently.

Thank god it was a Tuesday afternoon and no one was there to witness your sad-sad life.

Steve was now standing beside Robin having moved during your entire speech after he finished his task. 

“It’s just one dance, you know?” he offers, “It’s not like they’ll start dating.” He chuckles awkwardly in hopes of comforting you. 

Unfortunately, that was the worst thing he could have said.

“Wait, what if they start dating?” You were going to pass out. “You know, I can’t even be mad at Chrissy, I mean, she’s genuinely the sweetest person. And Eddie, god Eddie, he’s so ecstatic about this, I mean, he’s been pining after her since middle school…middle school! And here I am being a bitch because I couldn't get my shit together and just confess to him about how I feel.” you sigh and drop your head on the counter “He deserves this one thing at least, who am I to get in the way of it?” you say with your voice slightly muffled.

Robin smacked Steve’s shoulder before walking around the counter over to you. “Sweetie, don't get so upset with yourself.” She rubs your shoulders, “Don’t let this small inconvenience deter you from enjoying your prom. Remember? You’ve been looking forward to this since you were ten!” 

You look up at her and glance at Steve, meeting his eyes. “Don't let some dumb guy ruin this for you,” he says.

“But he's not some dumb guy, he's Eddie,” you whisper.

“Well, you got me, babe, kay? You can come along with Vicki and me, we’ll have an amazing time together just us, no guys - well that doesn't bother me - but you know what I mean, just us gals, what do you say?”

You don't reply so Robin continues, “This is me officially asking you to prom, are you gonna reject me or not?” she bumps your shoulder with a slight smirk on her freckled face. 

You smile at her, “Okay.”

♡‧₊˚

After Robin had invited you to accompany her and Vicki to prom, you felt a little better. It helped you keep your mind off Eddie and allowed you to look forward to the event of which you’d be attending with your other best friend. 

It had been almost two weeks since Eddie had asked Chrissy to prom and she had evidently accepted with a “sure why not!” Eddie had ranted to you about how he had a nice conversation with her and how she seemed genuinely excited for prom (you cried in the bathroom after that.)

The entire school was reeling over the fact that Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was taking the queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham, to prom. Jason was livid but every time he tried to say something to Eddie during lunch, Chrissy would shut him down, which you were grateful for. 

Another reason why you couldn’t hate her.

Along with Eddie being over the moon about taking his dream girl to prom, he could never seem to shut up about her either. At any possible time, whether at lunch or on the drive home from school, or even during your own personal hang-out time; Eddie always seemed to be talking about one person.

And that person was not you.

Last weekend, Eddie had knocked at your door in a panic about how the suit he was wearing was too big on him and that he looked like a loser, “you always look like a loser.” You pulled him inside so that you could grab your mother’s sewing kit and figure out how you were going to help him tailor Wayne’s old suit to fit him better. “Thanks, princess, what would I do without you?”

While you played tailor, you let it slip that you - surprisingly - haven’t bought a dress yet so in return, he offered to take you dress shopping. The next day he came barreling into your room announcing that the two of you were going shopping at the mall in the town over in hopes of finding your dream dress. 

You're one hundred percent sure that Eddie’s cute little reactions every time you stepped out of the dressing room will forever replay in your mind for the rest of your life. Even for the dresses you immediately dismissed and deemed ugly, you were still praised by him. 

“I look horrible in this, what even are these sleeves?” 

“I kinda dig the sleeves, makes you look like a real princess, princess.”

That smile, god that smile of his. Perhaps it was your delusions or maybe you genuinely saw a flicker of something in Eddie’s eyes when he would glance over your figure, drinking in your body in the dress you were currently showcasing for him. Either way, you were quite literally fooling yourself entirely because he wasn’t going with you,

he was going with Chrissy.

When you got home that day, you decided that you weren't just going to sit around anymore and cry about how things weren't working out. You have been looking forward to prom since you were a kid, you were going to fulfill that ten-year-old you’s dream. 

Pulling your blinds close so that they could block any sort of visual that you'll get from Eddie when he got home you grabbed your walkman and climbed into bed. You weren't in the mood to talk to him at the moment, it was Friday meaning the prom was tomorrow and you were currently losing your mind.

Sadly, God wasn’t through with tormenting you just yet.

The sound of the phone ringing ricocheted throughout your house, forcing you to pull yourself up from your current spot on your bed. 

“Hello?”

“Wanna go for a drive?”

No, you wanted to wallow in your self-pity and die.

“Sure.”

After slipping on some shoes, you walk out of your trailer and trek the small way toward Eddie’s. He was leaning against his van, cigarette in hand. The moon showered Eddie in its light, making him look ethereal. You didn’t check the time before you left but you knew it was a little late already, the moon was high in the sky, set for the night that was to come.

You hadn’t heard him get home earlier you wondered where he had been the entire day. He must have gotten home just now. Weird.

His head perks up at the sound of your shoes hitting the gravel, he gives you that dimpled smile you love so much and drops the cigarette on the ground before putting it out with his shoe. “Thought we both could go for a drive, hop in.” 

He didn’t wait for you to reply and simply walked around to the driver’s side and turned the ignition on.

You took your place in the passenger seat and instantly rummaged through the glove box to look for a new cassette to play.

He looks over at you as you pop in Dio’s The Last in Line, wordlessly. The beginning cords of  “We Rock” play as you sit back and look out the window.

“Where are you taking us, ole mystery man?” you say after a couple of minutes.

“Oh, it’s a surprise, fair maiden.” he laughs softly, “Not really, uh I'm just heading to Lover’s Lake.” His voice is soft, almost too soft. It confuses you slightly, prompting you to look over at your best friend. His eyes were focused on the stretch of road ahead, it felt like he was ignoring your eyes. 

The both of you don't say anything after that, simply basking in Ronnie James Dio’s voice till you arrive at your destination. 

The soft shutter of the ignition indicated that Eddie had parked already, so you quickly unbuckle yourself and crawled to the back of the van while Eddie cracked open the doors.

He had settled on a lone area off the edge of the lake. It was quiet. You took a quick glance at the dashboard before leaving your seat and noticed that it was nine already. The moon shined on the soft ripples coming from the lake, relaxing your surprisingly tense shoulders.

“Here,” Eddie’s voice cuts the air, offering you a blanket from the back of his van to you.

“Thanks,” you say after a beat, “so, are you excited about tomorrow or are you completely shitting yourself about taking your dream girl to the prom, Munson?” 

You peer down to look at his knees that were on display with the worn-out jeans he loved to wear so much. The glint of his rings sparkled signaling that he was drawing shapes on his thigh. One of his nervous ticks, you noted.

You focus your vision back on the water ahead of you, ignoring his stare; you will yourself to not make eye contact with his brown eyes. 

You can do this.

You will not lose your best friend over some silly crush.

“Let’s…not talk about Chrissy. I wanna talk about you. I feel like I don’t know about anything that’s happened to you in the last two weeks.” he pauses for a second, “I’m sorry that I’ve just been talking about her all the time recently.”

The unexpected apology throws you off, you look over at your best friend and bump his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

The question hangs in the air for a bit, it seemed as if he was mulling it over. Your eyebrows twitch in confusion. 

“You remember that day when you learned what prom was and declared to the entire town that you were going to attend it once it was your turn?” His eyes were glassy.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks, you threatened me that if I wouldn't shut up you’d tape my mouth shut.” You laugh quietly at the memory.

After your laughter dies down as you glance over at him. He looks at you and smiles. “I’m not…,” he hesitates, “I’m not sure…how I should style my hair tomorrow,” 

Your smile falters slightly before you catch yourself and beam up at him, “I love your hair the way it is, Eds, keep it like that.” 

He nods at you and looks away, “We should probably get back, I didn’t tell my mom where I was going,” you murmur.

“Of course, can’t have the princess getting in trouble, can we?” he grins at you.

Oh, how you love him.

♡‧₊˚

If you were to tell fourteen-year-old Eddie Munson that he would be attending prom with the girl he’d been crushing on. He wouldn't have believed you. 

He’d turn to his best friend and laugh in your face with her, cackling to the insane statements along with her. That same best friend who encouraged him to ask Chrissy in the first place. The same best friend who has dreamed about prom since she was a kid and the same best friend whom he wouldn't be attending it with. 

You’d think Eddie would be excited, but he couldn’t help but have a small feeling inside his heart that hurt. 

He drums his fingers on his steering wheel, the anxiety pooling in his stomach. His eyes glance over at your trailer, your blinds were pulled but he could see a sliver of light peeking through, most likely from your lamp. It was quiet in there, he assumed you were listening to your walkman. You had always preferred listening to your music with your headphones rather than blaring it out loud as he did. 

He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. “Fuck, she was right,” he mutters.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Chrissy had said.

He had been walking out of the school after he had finished pre-planning everything he wanted to do in the next Hellfire session. Yesterday, the guys had completely thrown him off so he needed to fix up his original idea for the next session next week. It never hurt to start early.

He was making his way over to the picnic table in the woods behind the school so that he could smoke before he left home for the day. His eyes glanced around the parking lot before passing through it, not many students were loitering around; choosing to immediately book it after the bell seeing as it was Friday and on top of that the Friday before prom.

He had barely stepped onto the grass that led to the woods when he heard his name being called.

He looked over his shoulder only to see Chrissy walking toward him. “Hey, Eddie,” her polished nails were waving at him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“What’s up?” he shoots her a quick smile.

“Oh, were you busy? Because I really need to talk to you.” Her pleading eyebrows were creased in a slight worry.

“Ah nah, I was just heading to my spot to smoke before I went home.” his gaze shifts back to her, “Walk with me?”

Chrissy simply nods and begins walking beside him.

Eddie attempts to find something to say during the short distance to the picnic table, scouring through his brain in hopes of making the walk less awkward than it was. 

It was never awkward with you.

He shook his head before he realized he had finally reached his destination, he sits down and pulls out a cigarette before beckoning Chrissy to say what she needed to say.

She takes a deep breath. “When you asked me to go to prom with you, I was inclined to say no.” She pauses for a second before catching herself, “Not in that way, um, I just never really thought you liked me. I mean I don’t think we’ve ever really talked before.” She thinks for a bit, “Maybe during the middle school talent show…” Her eyes shoot up to his, “god what was the name of your band, it was such an insane name, I loved it.”

“Corroded Coffin” Eddie answers with a smile.

“Corroded Coffin! Oh my gosh yes!” She laughs before looking off to the side, “I honestly thought you were dating someone already.” She says your name, “Yeah I could’ve sworn y’all were dating, so when you asked me to go to prom, it completely caught me off guard.” She nods to herself in confirmation.

At the sound of your name, Eddie perks up. “Wait you thought I was dating her?” He quickly laughs, waving her off. “No, we’re not-we’re not dating, we’re just friends.” He doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I don’t think you want to be.” She says quietly.

His eyebrows screw together, “what?”

“Look, I don’t know you too well and I don’t really know her too well either,” she bites her lip slightly, “I think you should go with her…to prom.”

Eddie just stares at her, not saying a word.

Chrissy sets her bag down and sits down now, “I’ve seen you during lunch, well god, I mean how could I not!” she laughs and shakes her head quickly, “Your face just looks so…in love when you look at her. It’s like you hang onto every word she says to you. And I’m not sure you realize that. And if you haven’t, she hasn’t either and is probably devastated that you asked me to prom and not her.” 

Eddie finally looks into Chrissy’s eyes now. Her eyes were big and full, they look a little glassy like she was going to cry, but not of sadness, no, Eddie didn’t think she was upset, she looks like she was in awe. In awe at him. At the love that he had not for her but for his best friend. Her face looked like she yearned for this supposed love that she claimed he had for you. 

She smiles, “So, I’m not going to prom with you, Eddie,” Chrissy says with a tone of finality.

“Thank you…for this intervention,” he looks away, “didn’t know I needed it.” his voice was quiet. 

Chrissy laughs but doesn’t say anything as she gets up, she ruffles slightly with her bookbag and slings it onto her back. She begins to walk away before she turns around to look at Eddie one last time. “I better see you at prom tomorrow and not alone.” She sent him one last smile and walked away.

Surprisingly, Eddie wasn’t upset or sad, instead, he was relieved. 

He sits there in silence for what felt like an eternity. The afternoon sunlight beamed on him like stripes due to the trees providing a bit of shade for him. He felt like he was processing everything and nothing at the same time. 

He had to leave, he had to get to you now.

Eddie’s mind was still reeling when he was getting close to Forest Hills, as much as he wanted to park in front of your trailer, run into your room, and tell you all that he was thinking, 

he simply couldn’t.

So instead he doesn’t turn into the trailer park but rather keeps driving. 

How could he have been so blind? All these years of pining after Chrissy Cunningham he thought it was her he wanted. He thought that whenever he would talk about her smile and how her face would light up a room it was Chrissy he was talking about but in actuality, it was you. It was always you.

It has always been you, ever since he had moved in beside your trailer into his uncle's. It has always been you cheering for him like when he had gotten nervous to go on stage for the talent show and Jeff had thrown up backstage. It has always been you whom he would talk to all through the night after you would slip through the window in his room. It has always been you listening to him rant on and on about the new campaign he was preparing for the guys. It has always been you. It will always be you.

And now it was dark outside, the moon replacing the sun for the night. Eddie sits submerged in your presence at Lover’s Lake. He knows that you suspect something is off about him.

“Are you okay?”

No Eddie wasn’t okay. He wanted to scream to the world that he had been in love with you for the longest time. To lose his voice after telling you about all the little things he loves about you, how he was stupid for not realizing sooner and for making you go through the last few years of him pining after a girl he never even loved.

But instead, he gives a lame excuse of not knowing how to style his hair. 

He sees your smile falter but doesn't say anything. 

And then you offer him that beautiful smile of yours. 

God, he hates himself. Why couldn’t Eddie just say that he loves you? He curses himself for being such a coward.

Oh, how you love him.

Oh, how he loves you.

♡‧₊˚

You spent the morning lounging in your bed basking in your sadness before you force yourself to get distracted with the makeup and the music from the reality that was your life. 

So what if the guy you’ve been in love with was going to prom with someone else? Totally not the end of the world, right?

“Sweetie, you should be leaving to pick up Robin or you’re going to be late.” Your mom’s voice echoes throughout the trailer. 

“Yeah, I'm almost done” you yell back as you grab your heels.

Your eyes dart over at your window. You couldn’t help to notice that Eddie’s van was still parked, meaning he hasn’t left to pick Chrissy up yet. It was getting late already, prom was at seven but it was already quarter past and you had assumed Chrissy would want to get there early or something. 

You finish putting your heels on and go to look in the mirror. This was it. You were finally going to attend prom, granted not with Eddie but you were still going with your friends. 

With one last look in the mirror, you grab your purse and head out of the safe haven that was your room. 

The sound of your doorbell rings throughout the trailer, “I’ll get it,” you say as you pass your mom in the kitchen.

Weird, must’ve been Robin.

A smirk finds its way on your face as you walk up toward the door. “No way, you drove here yourself-” 

You open the door, fully expecting a dolled-up Robin (to her standards) in front of you, but to your surprise, it was someone else. 

Eddie. 

He was standing there in his tux that you had helped tailor. His hair’s down, it looks freshly washed and his curls look bouncy as ever; he had taken your advice that you had told him at the lake. He’s wearing that iconic jewelry of his, the rings he had on extenuating his long fingers. He chose to ditch the tie altogether and instead unbuttoned the first two buttons on the shirt, showing a sliver of his collarbones to the world. 

“Uh, no I walked over actually,” Eddie says with a laugh.  

After getting over your initial shock you smile at your best friend. “Eds, what are you doing here?” 

You look at him expectantly and notice his eyes scanning your form, he swallows quickly before he looks back at you. His face had a slight blush to it. 

No way. Did Eddie just check you out?

Eddie doesn't reply so you begin to ramble nervously. “Look at you,” you force a laugh, “Look at you going to prom” without me.

He just stares at you, not saying anything, so you continue. “I can't believe you're going with your dream girl,” you smile sadly, “you did it.” 

He finally seems to process that he was standing in front of you and quickly stutters out, “Chrissy dumped me,” your eyebrows shoot up, “yeah, I’m not going with her anymore.” His eyes scan your face.

You blink, “Oh, I'm sorry I didn't - you didn’t tell me.”

“She’s not my dream girl”

“Huh?”

“She’s not my dream girl. You are.”

Were you going insane? You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t say anything. What did he mean that you were his dream girl? You simply stared at Eddie, blinking not saying a word. Your mouth was closing and opening attempting to locate words but your brain was currently malfunctioning. 

“I don’t think I understand?” your eyes shift behind Eddie’s form, searching for something. 

This was a joke. Surely Chrissy was going to pop out from behind and yell “Sike!” and then they were going to laugh in your face because Eddie had found out that you’ve been in love with him and had found it hilarious. This must have been some cruel prank that they were pulling.

But no one comes out. Eddie doesn’t laugh in your face but instead, he steps forward.

“Princess, you’re my dream girl. You always have been, I was just too blind to notice.” His brown eyes look at yours.

Those wide, loving eyes of his. God, you love him.

“I realized that I wasn't in love with Chrissy, she was just a crush that I had when I realized I would never be able to be with you. I think in fear of being rejected by you, I inadvertently did it anyway by developing that fantasy idea of her. It’s not Chrissy I've been in love with all these years, it's you.” He finishes his confession with a final sigh of relief.

You gulp. “You…love me?” 

“Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?” he says with a shy smile.

That’s all you needed.

So you kiss him. 

After years of pining. After years of wondering why Eddie wouldn’t just look your way. Of vying after him, you finally have his attention.

The kiss feels rushed like the two of you were chasing the years of lost time. Cursing at the other for having been missing out on this one single act. Hell, at this moment you're not sure how you were able to go years without kissing Eddie, and you don’t ever want to know how again. 

He pulls away reluctantly. “So,” he pecks you once more, “if you’ll allow me, I made a deal, and I intend on keeping that promise, sweetheart.” 

You crinkle your eyebrows in confusion for a second before it hits you,

he remembered.

A grin breaks out on your face. The childish voices ring in your memories.

“You’ll go with me to prom right, Eds?”

“Only if you let me swing now.”

“Deal.”

“I’d love to, Eds.”

A grin splits onto Eddie’s face, “Whew, thank god, I almost thought I had gotten all pretty for no reason.” 

You felt giddy. Your heart was overcome with emotion, you hoped you wouldn't wake up from this dream.

But this wasn’t a dream. This was true. 

Interlacing your fingers with Eddie’s you close the door and smile, “Yeah, let’s go to prom together.”

“Wait, what about Robin?”

“Ah, I already called her.”

“Oh, how presumptuous of you.”

“Big words, fair maiden, you know just how to get me going don’t cha, princess?”

[quinloki]

Positively Victorian

Fem Reader x Sabo

One-Shot - 2,450 words

CW: Language, sexual themes, light BDSM, sexual roleplay, rough oral sex, safe sane and consensual, 18+ only.

-:- Table of Consent -:-

Dating Sabo had been a lesson in whiplash. The bright smile and beautiful blue-eyed man had won your heart with clumsy courting, rumpled flowers, and a sense of fashion that was unique and exceptionally well-suited to him. Sometimes he would walk and talk like an aristocrat, and when you found out he did in fact come from money, you weren't surprised. Sometimes he would move with fury and almost animalistic instinct, and when you met his brothers, well, again you weren't surprised.

He could speak in poetry, and with enough alcohol he could also be convinced to belch his ABCs.

The more you got to know him, the more you loved him. The more you wanted him, and the more you wanted to sink deeper into him, and over the last couple of years you had gone from acquaintances, to friends, to lovers.

Now, here you were, sinking deeper into one another.

The tight dress with its hand-stitched flowers smelled lightly of lilac and dried fennel. It felt like cotton and shifted like silk, and the lacy details were thankfully against the dress and not your skin. It had taken nearly an hour to get into the monstrosity, and Sabo had needed a break afterward to clean up from the sweat he'd broken into after man-handling you into layer upon layer of under garments, corset, and skirts.

Though, half-way through getting some of the undergarments in place, you had both opted to skip them. So, you sat at the table, wet between your thighs for lack of anything else down there, and hoping you wouldn't accidentally ruin the dress from your own horniness while quietly sharing a meal with Sabo.

You had been learning etiquette specifically for this little session, the two of you exploring your need to be dominated, and Sabo's desire to turn his aristocratic knowledge into something positive for himself, but the few days of lecture prior to this hadn't been quite enough. Which, admittedly, had been kind of the point.

Finishing the first part of the meal, Sabo regards you with an even smile. He carefully trades the plates out, setting the new course before you before seating himself. Leaning back you can feel his eyes on you and the heat rising in your face.

After a moment of him not moving you look over and meet the unexpectedly devious smirk of his with a nervous smile. "Is there... an issue?" You ask uncertainly.

Sabo's hands are folded in his lap and the smile he gives you is cheerful. "You waited until I began to eat the last time, before you chose what cutlery to use." He points out, and you can feel your stomach drop a bit. "I'm simply waiting for you to pick up the correct items on your own, love."

Ah.

Looking down at the options before you, you take a moment to consider which ones are correct. You tried to remember the lessons for this, but there were ten pieces of cutlery in front of you, and you had barely paid any mind to how to set a place setting, never mind how to utilize one.

Sabo stood up and came over to you while you took time to ponder. Standing behind you his gloved hands slip over your bare shoulders, squeezing gently as he leans down a little. The action nearly shatters your brain, and certainly dashes away the memory of your lessons.

"Struggling a bit, are we?" His voice is low, polite, gentle, and deadly all at the same time. You can feel your skin prickle from it.

"Not at all," you reply, doing your best to sound confident. "I was simply taking a moment to admire the chef's hard work, is all." You assure him, with a smile and a turn of your shoulders, before reaching down and picking up what you hoped were the right items.

Sabo's fingers tense against your shoulders after you've made your choice and his voice holds you in place more than his hands.

"Oh dear, you've picked the wrong fork." He says, his hands sliding down your arms, his taller frame allowing him to cover your hands with his own as he leans against your back. "Whatever shall we do about your manners?"

"For-forgiveness is divine," you manage the words evenly, but you can already feel yourself falling into him.

"Are we forgiving your incorrect choice?" He muses, breath hot against your ear. "Or the insult of not having taken your teacher's lessons to heart?" His tongue is hot against the curve of your ear, but you can't shiver or cry out. To do so would be another breach of etiquette.

"... The choice." You say, your voice is steady but quiet, well aware of the fuel you have provided him. "We are forgiving the incorrect c-choice." Your words falter as he removes the cutlery from your hands and sets it on the table, his lips and teeth grazing the skin of your neck as he moves to do so.

"Then, as your teacher, I will take your punishment to heart, my love." He promises you, gently but firmly helping you stand.

"We... haven't finished eating, isn't it rude to leave now?" You're not escaping the inevitable, but it would be nice to have a meal beforehand.

"I rather think it'd be best for you to not have a full stomach for this." He assures you, as a new delicious shiver runs down your spine.

He moves you almost like he means to dance, fluidly waltzing lazily through the dining room, spinning you around like one of the dances he's taught you. The lack of music gives the whole experience a manic edge, but you let him lead you as best as you're able. After a few lazy movements, he pulls you in close, kissing you sweetly at first, and then deeply and roughly as your back is pressed against the wall.

Sabo had treated you like glass when you had first started going out, and it had taken some time for him to be assured that you weren't so fragile. You're mindful of the snakebite piercings as you return the passionate kiss, his hands holding your wrists against the wall as his tongue pushes deep into your mouth, stealing all manner of sense and air from you. The dizzying sensation causes you heart to race and you're panting heavily when he finally allows you to draw breath.

"You seem out of breath, my love," he muses, a manic edge in his voice as he pushes you down onto your knees. "It's good then, that your punishment requires you to kneel before me."

You reach to help Sabo undo his pants when he takes a step back from you. "Ah-ah-ah, hands in your lap. Just because you're on your knees for punishment, doesn't mean you get to sit like some commoner. Sit properly."

"Yes sir." You say as you straighten your back and place your hands in your lap.

"Good." The praise is simple, but you're happy to hear it. Sabo frees his cock from the confines of pants, gripping it with one gloved hand as he steps onto the excess of your skirts, pinning you to the floor as he draws closer. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

You do as commanded, and look up at Sabo as he's looking down at you. He smiles approvingly as he begins to rub the tip along your tongue. The salty taste of precum mixes with your saliva as he wets his stiff flesh against your tongue before pushing in deeper.

"Keep looking at me as I ravage that pretty little mouth of yours." He commands. One hand is braced against the wall as his hips push his dick into your mouth. You flex your tongue against his shaft and catch the soft appreciative gasp.

You start to press your lips against him, ready and willing to provide all the pleasure you can, when a strong grip on your hair pulls your head back a little. There's a soft chuckle from him that nearly steals your breath.

"No, love. This isn't you pleasuring me, this is me punishing you." He smiles darkly as he pushes his cock deep down your throat. "Do try to maintain your etiquette during this."

You have to grip the fabric of your skirts to stop from reaching up and holding onto him as he begins to fuck your mouth as he pleases. You suck in shaky gulps of air when the opportunity presents itself, and do your best to be quiet. You try not to groan or gag audibly, though the rough pace of his cock down your throat has watered your eyes and run your makeup.

"That's a good girl, look at you, trying so hard." His voice is shaky, but the praise makes you want to try harder. "When your – hgnh! – throat twitches it's hard to, haah, keep my composure."

Your face was a mess as Sabo fucks your mouth. You can feel drool slipping along your chin and dripping onto your chest. Tears cut lines down your face and snot from gagging was making it harder to breathe. Just as you felt you were going to have to end things in order to avoid passing out he releases you, pulling himself out of your mouth and using his gloved hand to urge his cum onto your face, chest, and dress.

You move enough to clean your face so you can see and breath again, but you don't wipe away the semen he's covered you in. When you're done you put your hands back in your lap as Sabo takes a moment to catch his breath, and put his pants back in order.

He kneels down, legs on either side of yours, and slides a finger up the front of your neck, curling it a little as he tilts your chin up slightly. "You look so beautiful when I make a mess of you," he muses, leaning forward and licking some of the mess from your cheek. "I should think I'd like to do so more often." His gaze holds yours for a moment before he leans in and kisses you.

You touch his face gently, letting your fingers twist among the loose curls of his golden blonde hair. As he leans back you smile and kiss the tip of his nose. "As often as you like. The corset aside, this getup isn't too terribly uncomfortable."

"Mm, how easy was it to breathe?" He asks, looking over the mess of the rumpled dress with a few errant stains drying on it.

"Not bad. It just feels weird to be so inflexible."

Sabo smiles. "Perhaps next time I should endeavor to tighten it more thoroughly. We don't want anyone thinking you're attempting to 'bandy about naked', after all." The way he says the words makes it seem like he's quoting someone, and you imagine it's his mother, given the tone he takes.

You smirk, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Why, good gentleman Sabo, did you leave my corset loose to take advantage of me on this fine day?" You ask, in mock horror, practically giggling even as you make an exaggerated motion of nearly fainting.

"Oh, most assuredly miss," he replies as he begins to lay you flat on the floor. "But even better would be for you to lay back and allow me to acquaint myself with your skirts."

"With my skirts?" You start to ask as Sabo hands you his hat before lifting your skirts and disappearing under them. "Sabo what're you- Hhnngnhaahhh... hnnf...fuck." Before you can even catch up to his intentions his mouth is buried between your thighs.

His tongue and lips lap against and suck your sensitive clit and his fingers slip into your dripping cunt with ease. You had been soaking wet since the meal had begun, and you were gasping into Sabo's hat as he went to work, devouring you like a man starved for his favorite meal.

"S-Sabo! M-Mercy!" You cry as the pleasure coils in you faster than any time before. You're going to cum before you can even begin to beg for it. You don't know if he heard you from under the layers of skirts, but an extra finger pushes into you as he sucks on your clit with renewed vigor and the rush of pleasure tenses your body like you've been electrified.

Your hips buck as your back arches and your toes are curling so hard you can feel the muscles in your thighs clench, forcing Sabo to push your legs open as he helps you ride out the hard orgasm by abusing your tender clit. By the time you're coming down from the high your whole body is shaking and twitching from the violent rush of pleasure.

Sabo comes back up from under your skirts, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smile on his face as he lazily crawls on the floor until he's by your side, pulling you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head. "That was a beautiful little song," he hums, petting your hair and giving you a chance to catch your breath.

"You... say that... often." You pant, your head still swimming with pleasure.

"Mm, that's because you make the most beautiful sounds, little song bird." He assures you leaning down and kissing you quickly so you can continue to catch your breath. "And as beautiful as you sound, you are twice as lovely."

You put his hat over your face as you feel yourself go red. "... that's just cruel." You pout.

"Eh? Ehhh?! I – I meant it-!" You move the hat aside and pull him down into a kiss interrupting him as the concerned look on his face turns to one of surprise.

"Embarrassing me is cruel, Sabo." You clarify, giving him a kind smile. "I don't know what to do when you call me beautiful."

He smiles, and it's just as beautiful as you're sure he sees you. "Then, shall I tell you every day until you figure out what to do?"

"... It could take me a long time," you point out as he leans down and kisses you softly.

"Days?" He questions with another gentle kiss.

"More."

"Weeks?" he prompts, kissing you again.

"Far longer, dear Sabo."

"Be it months, or years, I shall stay by your side until you sort it out." He promises, kissing you yet again.

"And beyond that?"

"By then there'll be many more things for us to sort out, and so I shall stay beside you and puzzle this love for years."

partish 2ish?

[spooniechef]

The Dinner Diaries, Day 1 (fried rice, 1 spoon)

My eating habits are not the most orderly things in the world. I thought it might be a good idea to actually try documenting what I eat for a month or so, just so that I've got some kind of record. Also means that I've got a bit more scope for throwing out recipes, even if they are simple, basic, "Everyone must know how to do this" recipes. Because who knows? Maybe people don't, or maybe I do it in a way that people might find easier.

I'm not generally a breakfast person so I had coffee and a couple of gluten-free chocolate digestive biscuits. For those not of the British persuasion - digestives are sort of the plainest cookies in existence, sommetimes elevated by dipping one side in chocolate. So it kind of feels like ready-made oat-bread toast spread with Nutella. I guess that counts as breakfast, more or less.

Skipped lunch because my so-called 'breakfast' was too close to the lunching hour for me to be very hungry, but around 3:30, I had one last slice of my Admiral's Gingerbread (recipe in last post - oh, hey, I have a hand mixer now! Making that monstrosity inspired me to get one). Not because I ran out, precisely, but because my stepfather was in the neighbourhood and he likes baked treats, and since I couldn't eat all of the rest on my own before it got stale, I gave him the last two slices so that they'd have a good home.

Dinner, though - that was my triumph. See, I did a pork roast last week, and a roast chicken the other day, so I had a little bit of roast pork and a lot of roast chicken, the former needing to be eaten basically now. But I had plans in that direction. Nothing says "use up the last bits of cooked meat before they go manky" like fried rice. The recipe that follows is going to be a little vague, but I'll leave notes.

Here's what you'll need:

Rice

1 onion, quartered and sliced

4-6 cloves garlic or 1-2 tablespoons garlic puree

Whatever meat you happen to have handy, cut into chunks (about 1" or so)

Various vegetables (for the purpose of this, we'll say frozen mixed veg)

0.5 thumb-length fresh ginger, grated (or 1.5 tablespoons ground ginger, separated)

Approximately 1/3 cup soy sauce (or tamari, if you're gluten-free)

Other spices to taste (I like a dash of ground coriander, personally)

Like I said, this is so vague because so much is according to taste. Fried rice the way I do it is basically the Hoover Stew of rice dishes, so it's basically "throw stuff into the pot according to taste, heat, FEAST". So take just about everything with a grain of metaphorical salt, okay?

Here's what you do (or here's what I do):

Boil the rice however you would normally (I generally use a pot even though I have a rice cooker because I can just throw in a cup or so of frozen mixed veg just before the rice is cooked and let them finish off together); set aside

Ditto vegetables, unless you've cooked them with the rice

Heat some oil in a pan; sautee the onions with half the garlic until the onions are transparent

Add your meat, the half-tablespoon of ginger, and about a third of your soy sauce (and other spices to taste); heat for 3-4 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the meat is warmed through

Add the rice and vegetables, dump in the rest of the soy sauce, ginger, garlic, and all other spices and heat on low for maybe five minutes, stirring regularly so that the soy sauce mixes evenly into the rice

I find this way works because it's not a lot of effort, but still layers the flavour better than just dumping everything in all at once.

So dinner was Fried Rice A La Spoonie, and dessert was a can of peach slices. So there was one balanced meal out of today, anyway. I do have leftovers so maybe there'll even be lunch tomorrow! That would be a step in the right direction.

This is my week off after three weeks of nightmare at the office, which has left my spoons at an all-time low, but I do have plans for interesting meals this month. I have duck legs - a slight extravagance but they were on sale - and the fixings for a good bacon and eggs breakfast and plans in the direction of a Wacky Cake. But mostly, honestly, I hope you'll be patient with me as I mostly try to finally get my eating habits in some semblance of order. Whether or not I'm very active, pain does burn calories, and one meal per day is probably insufficient.

[worldsneverfilled]

Formici

Race Inspiration:

Named for the ant superfamily Formicoidea

They're a bipedal, ant-like people that live primarily beneath the surface and are both the smallest and most advanced of the sapient races; they’re the most territorial and have a deep-seated hatred for the Arcleks and the Cicadohops.

Racial Traits: Armored Strength, Queen's Favored, Ancient's Boost

Planet of Origin:

Iferous

Creature Type:

Monstrosity

Size:

Small-Medium

Speed:

You have a walking speed of 40 feet.

Flight:

Only Alates can fly and have a flying speed of 30 feet.

Armored Strength

Because of natural armor and strength, you have a +2 to both Constitution or Stength, but not both.

Queen's Favored:

Because of every ant's telepathic connection with the queen, starting at level 5, the player can roll 1d20 per week to seek the queen's favor. The DC is 15 and the player can add their Charisma modifier to their roll, with a minimum of 1.

When seeking the queen's favor, the Formici may cast the Commune spell without components, following that spell's rules.

If the player fails the roll, they cannot seek counsel from the queen for two weeks, or they must roll a percentage die with their level as the DC maximum. For example, a level 11 PC must roll an 11 or less to succeed in regaining her favor before the two weeks have ended.

Ancient's Boost:

Once per short rest, the Formici can use the Dash action as a free action rather than a bonus action.

Proficiencies:

Languages. You can speak Common and Laysh

Tools. You have proficiency in two of the following: Carpenter's Supplies, Tinkerer's Tools, Poisoner's Tools, or Mason Tools.

Skills. You have a natural proficiency in Athletics.

Lifespan:

30-40 cycles, and they reach maturity at 10 cycles

Appearance:

Insectoid race. They're bipedal with four arms/hands.

There are four stages to their ages, affecting their "class" within their careers.

0-10 cycles. Adolescence period, their word for it does not translate into other known languages.

11-20 cycles. This is when they're divided between two castes: Ergates and Dinergates. The former is the general working class, ranging from educators to merchants to miners, and the latter makes up their military. Formici can choose which path they take, and from there, their diets will change to change their physical characteristics to match their chosen "caste". Neither is regarded as more important than the other, and both are treated equally in their society.

21-30 cycles. Alates. This is their primary reproductive period—though they're capable of it starting at their majority—and also the only time their species have wings. These wings fall off naturally and painlessly when they pass this period of cycles.

31+ cycles. Elders. Formici that live this long become elders in their local community or advisors to the queen. Advisors are categorized based on their profession in their working years, and advise the queen accordingly for that subject of rule. Elders may or may not be permitted to lay with the queen, per her preference, but advisors are strictly forbidden.

Queen. Several queens are born every twenty cycles, and they spend their first fifteen cycles in study and physical training. They are then pitted against one another in a fight to the death, and the last two standing must take on the current queen. If neither survive and the current queen dies from her injuries or old age, then queen generations from other Formici nations may try to slip in and take over instead. Given their rank and size, they would go mostly unchallenged by the people of the nation they've "invaded."

Diet:

Because they live underground, they have a surplus of fungi and marine life in the underground lakes. Their diets consist mostly of the bioluminescent species, giving the Formici a natural glow to their wings during their Alate period.

They're not above eating other races if there's a shortage of meat and it's already dead and available for the taking.

Culture:

While they're peaceful and see each other as equals, no matter their worker status, this only applies to their own societies. They're hostile to outsiders, and diplomats and merchants from other nations—Formici or otherwise—are put under heavy guard for their own safety. There's an almost instinctual drive to attack anything and everything that enters their borders.

The exception to this—and only just barely—are the Crepuscas, who rarely need more than two or three guards. Formici the most hostile to the Cicadohops, and are at constant war with them. Their reason for being hostile to the Arcleks is because they generally ally with the Cicadohops, though they're tolerated a fraction more because of the trade in natural resources.

It's understandable, given the Cicadohops provide the Arcleks with most of their food supply. The Formici know and understand this, but they hate them almost as much for it.

They are rarely seen in other kingdoms, but there are some present here and there. Those Formici mostly keep to themselves, but they can be found taking jobs as educators or in construction or mining in non-Formici nations. They're not an adventurous people and don't suffer from wanderlust like the Crepuscas or Cicadohops.

They're highly intelligent and guard their secrets jealously. Formici are seen as the most advanced people on Iferous and have—sometines unwillingly—paved the way for scientific advancements in engineering and medicine. Greed has a way of loosening mandibles...

Classes:

Paladins, Wizards, and Artificers are the most abundant. Given their intelligence and loyalty to their queen, they focus on research or their oath to her.

[gumnut-logic]

I know I’ve posted this one before, but what the hell. It’s Johnny and one of my favs :D

-o-o-o-

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

[anzynai]

snowman

a/n: yes, i’m writing another xingyun drabble. yes, it’s non-tickling again. yes, it’s winter themed even though it’s summer. haha i’m obsessed.

“come help me, chongyun!” xingqiu called, struggling to lift the large ball of snow. chongyun groaned, lightly trodding over to him. he lifted it up easily, feeling himself grin at xingqiu’s shocked stare. he hummed.

when they both had a tight hold on it, sure it wouldn’t slip through their fingers, they guided it over to the snowman. placing it atop the two stacked snowballs, xingqiu let out a sigh of relief.

“alright! now for the decorations!” xingqiu clapped his hands together, though they were muffled because of his mittens, as chongyun nodded. xingqiu looked around, while chongyun stood awkwardly. after a few moments, xingqiu’s eyes lit up. “over there, dear chongyun, there’s some stones and twigs we can use!”

with that, xingqiu dashed over to said spot, grabbing ahold of chongyun’s hand before he even had a chance to response. he crouched down, grabbing a few stones before spilling them into chongyun’s hands. when the reader decided they had enough, he stood up. he plucked two twigs that had been stuck in the snow from a tree before turning to chongyun with a large grin on our face. “i think we’ve got everything!”

they went back to the snowman, still as bare as it was when they left it, getting to work immediately. they wordlessly placed stones on the snowman, first beginning with the buttons then the eyes and mouth. then, the each placed a twig on each side as an arm before backing away to examine their creation. xingqiu hummed, before taking off his scarf and earmuffs and placing it on the snowman. chongyun followed him, taking off his hat.

“hmm, it’s still missing something. what do you think it is, dear chongyun?” xingqiu scratched his chin, as the exorcist thought for a moment.

“a.. a nose?” he said, and xingqiu whipped his head towards him.

“yes, a nose! that’s it! we need a nose! but..” xingqiu trailed off, his eyebrow furrowing as he turned away.

“but what?”

“we don’t have anything to use as a nose. what will we- AH!” chongyun’s head tilted at xingqiu’s shriek of utter horror, following his eyes and… oh. chongyun was taking a carrot out from his bag that he had gotten from wanmin earlier.

“xingqiu, it’s just a carrot. we aren’t going to e-“

“so what if we have to eat that… that monstrosity or not! if we put that thing on the snowman, it’ll be tainted! we can’t use it!” xingqiu glared at the orange vegetable as if it would jump at him at any given moment.

“but we don’t have anything else!” chongyun moaned, the carrot still in his hand as xingqiu backed away from it, defensively.

“if we use that, i’ll replace the eyes with jueyun chili’s.”

“let’s find something else.”

xingqiu smirked at his victory before realizing that they didn’t know what to use at all to replace it.

“ahh, let’s see..” chongyun narrowed his eyes, refusing to help xingqiu figure out what to use, instead taking a bite out of the carrot so it wouldn’t go to waste. he noticed the slight grimace on xingqiu’s face upon seeing that as the reader turned his back away from chongyun. “oh! an icicle! we’ll use that!”

xingqiu broke an icicle from a tree branch before sticking it on the snowman’s face, adjusting it a few times before he got the perfect angle. finally, he went back to stand next to chongyun, who hadn’t moved from his spot, visibly glowing that the carrot was out of his sight and not on the snowman.

“it looks wonderful, don’t you think, dear chongyun?” xingqiu admired, and chongyun couldn’t deny that it looked really cool. still, he pouted.

“it would’ve looked better with a carrot nose.”

[witchbitchheadedtoaditch]

Shadow Work Prompts Part 2

Hello my loves! I'm going to add some more shadow work prompts (primarily because... Kaye needs to do shadow work and maybe this will convince them to do it. (It won't. We all know it won't. But we can hope....))

I'm gonna put these below the cut just so people don't have to scroll through this long as fuck list on their dash if they don't want to see them lol

Some of these are really, really heavy, and do touch on things like sexual assault, abuse, death, etc., so this is the trigger warning for you.

A lot of these are also focused on women and AFAB folks because I'm trying to reconcile with my femininity and whatnot.

Anne Carson Quotes

You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where can I put it down?

Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.

Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do.

Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do. ... Eros: the boundary of flesh and self between you and me.

Desire is no light thing.

It is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together.

Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.

All mortals owe a debt to death.

...sex is a substitute, like money or language.

...your story begins the moment Eros enters you. That incursion is the biggest risk of your life. How you handle it is an index of the quality, wisdom, and decorum of the things inside you.

Myths are stories about people who become too big for their lives temporarily, so that they crash into other lives or brush against gods. In crisis their souls are visible.

Philosophers say man forms himself in dialogue.

There is no person without a world.

If there is anything dearer than being alive, it's dark to me.

We humans seem disastrously in love with this thing... life.

The underworld's a blank and all the rest just fantasy.

Caught between the tongue and the taste.

What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us? For an instant God suspends assent and poof! we disappear.

Girls are cruelest to themselves.

What really connects words and things?

Blessed be they whose lives do not taste of evil

Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a lover is to watch the year repeat its days.

Consider incompleteness as a verb.

You can get used to anything, my mother was in the habit of saying.

I am talking about evil. It blooms. It eats. It grins.

I don't want to be a person. I want to be unbearable.

Beauty makes me hopeless.

The dead... are victims of love, many of them.

To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing.

You read a hundred military manuals you won't find the word kill they trick you into killing.

I went mad, a god hurt me, I fell.

Those nights lying alone are not discontinuous with this cold hectic dawn. It is who I am.

Love does not make me gentle or kind.

Your grief is as great as your splendor was: some god is weighing the one out equal to the other.

You can never know enough, never work enough, ... never leave the mind quickly enough.

Language is what eases the pain of living with other people, language is what makes the wounds come open again.

Where does unbelief begin?

Everything that is me is with me.

A wound gives off its own light...

I began to think I was someone thirsting for God.

You are a person in love with the impossible.

When we are denied a story, a light goes off.

Some conversations are not what they're about.

I lack myself.

Who knows what will happen if I'm alone with my grief.

I... forbid that you should ever lose your screams.

You are not a god. You are not that enlarged self. Indeed, you are not even a whole self, as you now see. Your new knowledge of possibilities is also a knowledge of what is lacking in the actual.

There is a loneliness that fills the plain.

The women of mythology regularly lose their form in monstrosity.

We live by waters breaking out of the heart.

Time as hunger. Time passing and gazing. Time as perseverance. Mountain time. Time as paper folded to look like a mountain. Time compared to the wild fantastic silence of stars.

What are we made of but hunger and rage?

When I look at you, even for a moment, no speaking is left in me.

Kelly Cherry Quotes

I didn't find my story; it found me.

There is blood everywhere and I am lost in it. I breathe blood, not air.

The story of [their] great-grandfather [or any ancestor]... was [their] own story, too.

Ashe Vernon Quotes

Don't you dare, for one minute, believe that my kindness makes me anything but insurmountable.

Understand that I am not your next victim in a laundry list of broken girls.

I will eat you alive before I let you make a meal of me.

What they don't tell you about standing up for what you believe in is that your feet will bruise and your legs will ache.

I'd like to take a moment to submit a formal apology to my soft parts because they kept me warm when I was trying to freeze to death, and I hated them for it.

I let myself be afraid.

When you learn you are only as good as your beauty routine, you forget how to define yourself by anything else.

I will know how to be vulnerable with you, but I won't know how to not regret it.

I know how to put my body inside someone else's but not how to make it beautiful.

I love better at a distance.

I am as much lion as I am lion tamer.

I got good at inflicting pain the same way I got good at soothing it.

Quit picking old wounds and going tor walks in the aches and pains you already made it through--you call it healing, but it sounds like a good way to take a haunting home with you.

I am a cathedral of almost-lovers

Louise Gluck Quotes

We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory.

I thought that pain meant I was not loved. It meant I loved.

The soul is silent. If it speaks at all it speaks in dreams.

Intense love always leads to mourning.

You will never let go, you will never be satiated.

It will feed you, it will ravish you, it will not keep you alive.

Why love what you will lose? There is nothing else to love.

I speak because I am shattered.

I don't need your praise to survive.

Whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice.

Nakedness in women is always a pose. I was not transfigured. I would never be free.

The unsaid, for me, exerts great power.

I am tired of human... I want to live on the sun

Death cannot harm me more than you have harmed me, my beloved life.

There are places like this... you enter as a young girl... you never return.

Writing is a kind of revenge against circumstance, too: bad luck, loss, pain. If you make something out of it, then you've no longer been bested by these events.

The riddle was: why couldn't we live in the mind. The answer was: the barrier of the earth intervened.

It is true that there is not enough beauty in the world. It is also true that I am not competent to restore it. Neither is there candor, and here I may be of some use.

You're not a creature in body. You exist as the stars exist, participating in their stillness, their immensity.

And then, suddenly, something is over.

You must be taught to love me. Human beings must be taught to love silence and darkness.

Sappho Quotes

Someone will remember us/I say/even in another time.

Their heart grew cold. They let their wings down.

What cannot be said will be wept.

What is beautiful is good, and who is good will soon be beautiful

Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.

Love shook my heart like the wind on the mountain rushing over the oak trees

Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.

I know not what to do, my mind is divided.

The female creature is a letter.

No holy place existed without us then

She who loves roses must be patient and not cry when she is pierced by thorns.

Because I prayed this word: I want.

If you had a desire for good or beautiful things and your tongue were not concocting some evil to say, shame would not hold down your eyes but rather you would speak about what is just.

Wealth without virtue is no harmless neighbor.

I am weary of all your words and soft, strange ways.

Paisley Rekdal Quotes

Does it offend you to watch me working in it, touching my hands to the greening tips or tearing the yellow stalks back, so wild the living and dead both snap off in my hands?

I can wait longer than sadness.

It is such a small thing to be proud of.

Should I, too, not be loved?

We are even now still so young

I loved him. I loved forgiving him.

Yasmin Belkhyr Quotes

Contrary to wound, I still know nothing of defeat.

Contrary to ache, I still know nothing of guilt.

I help: a good daughter.

Someone always ends up holding something mangled.

It wasn't enough to feel... he had to see, to know.

Adrienne Rich Quotes

There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep and still be counted as warriors.

Lying is done with words, and also with silence

Responsibility to yourself means refusing to let others do your thinking, talking, and naming for you; it means learning to respect and use your own brains and instincts; hence, grappling with hard work.

When a woman tells the truth she is creating the possibility for more truth around her.

My heart is moved by all I cannot save: so much has been destroyed

If you are trying to transform a brutalized society into one where people can live in dignity and hope, you begin with the empowering of the most powerless. You build from the ground up.

Until we know the assumptions in which we are drenched, we cannot know ourselves.

The truth of our bodies and our minds has been mystified to us.

It will take all your heart, it will take all your breath. It will be short, it will not be simple.

You look at me like an emergency.

The unconscious wants truth. It ceases to speak to those who want something else more than truth.

In a world where language and naming are power, silence is oppression, is violence.

There is no 'the truth', 'a truth'--truth is not one thing, or even a system. It is an increasing complexity. The pattern of the carpet is a surface. When we look closely, or when we become weavers, we learn of the tiny multiple threads unseen in the overall pattern, the knots on the underside of the carpet.

The moment of change is the only poem

There is nothing revolutionary whatsoever about the control of women's bodies by men. The woman's body is the terrain on which the patriarchy is erected.

The scars bear witness but whether to repair or to destruction I no longer know.

Not biology, but ignorance of ourselves, has been the key to our powerlessness

What kind of beast would turn its life into words?

Truthfulness, honor, is not something which springs ablaze of itself; it has been created between people.

You touched me in places so deep I wanted to ignore you

Silence can be a plan rigorously executed, the blueprint to a life, it is a presence, it has a history, a form. Do not confuse it with any kind of absence.

Most women have not even been able to touch this anger, except to drive it inward like a rusted nail.

We have lived with violence for so long.

This is my body, take it and destroy it

We have been raised to fear the yes within ourselves, our deepest cravings. And the fear of our deepest cravings keeps them suspect, keeps us docile and loyal and obedient, and leads us to settle for... many facets of our own oppression.

Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, false namings of real events.

A language is a map of our failures.

The more I live the more I think two people together is a miracle.

Poetry is, among other things, a criticism of language.

How do you make it, all the way from here to morning?

An honorable human relationship--that is, one in which two people have the right to use the word "love"--is a process, delicate, violent, often terrifying to both persons involved, a process of refining the truths they can tell each other.

You grieve in loneliness, and if I understand you fuck in loneliness.

We write from the marrow of our bones.

The liar has many friends, and leads an existence of great loneliness

We must use what we have to invent what we desire.

William Styron Quotes

We're all in this game together.

In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come-not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute.

It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul

We each devise our means of escape from the intolerable.

Reading--the best state yet to keep absolute loneliness at bay.

Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.

Let your love flow out on all living things.

Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression--in the progress of the disease and, most likely, in its origin.

Kai Cheng Thom Quotes

I wanted to protect you, but I'm starting to think that the best thing you can do for people is teach them how to protect themselves. Every girl needs to be at least a little dangerous.

A sanctuary is a place where the door only locks from the inside.

Sometimes to be somebody else, you have to be nobody first.

You will be able to stop hurting people when you stop hurting yourself.

When you're a child trapped in a situation of physical or psychological depravation, you learn shame as an efficient, elegant mechanism of survival: shame simultaneously shields you from the reality that danger is out of your control (since the problem is not that you're unloved and deprived; it's that you're Bad) and prevents you from doing or saying anything challenging that might provoke a threat.

It's good for you to cry sometimes. Even if there isn't a reason.

When you live in a community of queers, anarchists, & activists, crisis is the baseline and stability an outlier.

You are mine like nothing has ever been before.

Safety is, I believe, an inherently classed, raced, and gendered experience that frequently runs the risk of being used for regressive ends--ironically, for restricting the freedoms of the vulnerable, those who are never really safe. Often, we see the call for safety actually reinforce the power of oppressive institutions, like the police and the prison system, in our lives. When we choose safety over liberation, our movements fail.

When they looked at me and my sister, even their love was hungry.

Some people will cling on to anything that makes them feel even a little bit free.

Forget, if you can, all the promises you've ever made and the lies that you've told.

Once you start hurting people, you can't stop

I feel tired. I don't want to be myself anymore.

Sometimes it's important to be alive.

Sometimes, there is nothing you can do but surrender.

You are always disappearing in the hope of being seen. You are always shrinking to fit into someone else's arms. You are collapsing ever inward, a galaxy to become smaller.

Gregory Orr Quotes

If we're not supposed to dance, why all this music?

Even hell is holy.

I was born with a knife in one hand and a wound in the other.

Maybe she loved me, maybe not--who knows? Not even the gods can see into a human heart--it's that dark.

Writing often reveals us to ourselves, lets us name what's important to us and what has been silent or silenced inside us.

And to live only once--what if that's not enough?

Maybe it was always simple: loss surrounds us. Who would deny it? We ourselves are loss, are lost.

I want to study the book of the world: every vanishing page.

The dead sing us songs I'm learning to answer.

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 5)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends (to maybe more??? ohoho) 

Chapter Rating: T (Language, Canon Typical Violence, Brief Mention of Underage Drug Use) 

Word Count: 6,554

AO3 FFN

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The black and white dashed pavement was all Wes saw. It moved underneath his clumsy feet in slow motion. 

Someone was holding his hand; he could feel the heat of their palm enveloping his. His hand was small in theirs. His shoulders were heavy, weighed down by a backpack. 

He wrung the padded red strap with his free hand. The person leading him tugged him along after them, insistent, but not unkind. When he looked up, he couldn’t see who it was. The sun was too bright, glinting in his eyes and allowing nothing but the dark impression of a silhouette. 

He had to get home, Wes remembered faintly. They had to get home or they’d be in trouble. An odd feeling crept up his legs, and he stumbled over an untied shoelace. The person with him made sure he didn’t fall, pulling up on his arm. 

“Silly Wesley, I thought you said you knew how to tie your shoes?” The person said. Their voice sounded muffled, like he was underwater. It sounded… familiar. Somehow. Like Wes should recognize it. 

They kept walking across the street, the far side growing no closer.

Wes swallowed, his throat dry. 

“Something’s wrong,” he said. His tongue felt clumsy in his mouth. He tried to look up at the person guiding him. They weren’t looking at him, and the sun drove his gaze away again. He looked back at the road, then over his shoulder where the blurry shape of school became more distant with every step.

 “Please listen to me this time, something isn’t right,” he tried again. His voice was small in his throat. His chaperone ignored him, or maybe they just couldn’t hear him. 

Cold panic seeped into him and he tried to resist against the person guiding him. He dug his heels into the rough hot pavement. He twisted and pulled at his hand, gripping the person's wrist in hopes he could slow them down. 

“It’s okay, Wessie! Your friends will be there when you come back,” came the voice, happy and completely oblivious. “I know it’s sad, but you’ll see your friends again, you’ll see.” 

“No,” he protested, the fear condensing into a lump in his throat. “No, we can’t keep going.” He didn’t know why. He just knew they had to stop. 

They had to stop before it happened. 

It ached deep in his bones, the dread and the sirens. His vision swirled and he blinked furiously against the tears. 

“Please,” he pleaded. “Please, stop, you have to.” He yanked on them, but they showed no sign of being inconvenienced. A wail rose in his throat. 

Why were they not listening?

“Maybe your Mom will let us have some fruit snacks when we get there, how’s that sound?” 

And then it was too late. 

His guardian gasped, and yanked him back. It sent a painful jolt through his arm. He stumbled backwards and hit the ground so hard it rattled his brain. 

The sound he could never push from his memories filled the world. The squeal of tires and a wet crunch. A squeal: high pitched and girlish. The solid thunk and crack of a body hitting the pavement, skidding and rolling and breaking and—

Wes sat bolt upright, strangling back a scream. 

Panic tingled over his skin and he clutched at his chest, fingers curling into the cotton of his nightshirt. His breath came in rapid gulps and his eyes darted around his room. Like he was expecting to see— 

He screwed his eyes shut and bit into his bottom lip until he tasted blood. God… He hadn’t had one that bad— that vivid in a long time. He focused on the beat of his heart for several long seconds, forcing his breathing to slow. 

God. He hated nightmares. 

He opened his eyes, taking in the dimly illuminated shapes of his dresser, desk and footboard. His curtains were drawn, and the weak light of morning tried in vain to worm it’s way into the room from behind the fabric. 

Wes reached for his phone on his bedside table. He unplugged it from the charger and winced against the light of the screen, 6:31 a.m. Friday. 

They’d had the last two days off from school due to damages to the plumbing system, but apparently it was all fixed up because school hadn’t been cancelled today. 

After that, going back to sleep was a lost cause. 

He shook his head and peeled his covers back. Might as well get an early start on getting ready for school. With a yawn he opened his door and glanced down the hall. 

Kyle’s door wasn’t open yet, which wasn’t surprising. Kyle was late most mornings; he liked sleeping in about as much as he liked weed… he slept in so much because of the weed more specifically. 

The house was chilly and quiet. 

That was until Wes heard footsteps and the sounds of drawers opening and closing in the kitchen. 

His right hand slid along the guide rail, the polished wood still smelling of lemon. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he poked his head around the corner of the wall and into the kitchen. He blinked. 

It was his dad. He was standing at the toaster, a butter knife held in his hand. Neatly ironed suit already on. 

Wes walked in without announcing himself and went to the cupboard. His dad jumped, catching a glimpse of him over his shoulder. 

“Oh, Wesley.” He cleared his throat and shifted towards him. “You’re up early.” 

“Yep.” 

He got a box of cereal and closed the cupboard. He turned his back to his father to get a clean bowl. 

“Right. Uhm. Did you… want toast?”

Wes nudged the cupboard door closed with an elbow. 

“No, I don’t want toast.” He put his bowl on the dining table and filled it with cereal. His dad watched him. 

“There’s eggs in the fridge too if you—” 

“Dad, it’s fine.” Wes didn’t look at him, and put the cereal box away. He got the jug of milk from the fridge and poured it over the sugary monstrosity that had the audacity to call itself a balanced breakfast. Other than the sound of the milk glugging, the kitchen was tense and silent. Wes screwed the cap back on the milk and put it back in the fridge, getting a spoon next from the silverware drawer. 

The toaster popped, and his Dad startled. 

Under different circumstances Wes might have laughed. 

He pulled out a seat at the table, its legs scraping over the hardwood floor. He sank down into the cold chair and started eating. He pulled his phone out from his sweatpant pocket and scrolled without really paying attention to the images and text that slid past. 

“Aren’t you late for work or something?” he said. His dad stopped scraping the butter on his toast. 

“Now that I’m finally settled into the office a bit more I don’t have to be in till seven.” 

Wes clicked his tongue. “Oh. Joy.” He shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. His dad sighed, and he could see his shoulders slump out of the corner of his eye. 

“Your uh, tryouts are today, right?” 

“Why’s it matter? Not like you ever have time to come to my games anyway.” He said it hoping it would hurt. It was childish, Wes knew it was, but he just wanted his dad to get it for once.

“Wesley, kiddo... I know this has been hard on you and your brother—” Wes snorted. His Dad pressed on. “But this job was an amazing opportunity, I really think it could do a lot of good for us.” 

“We were fine with the job you had.”

“I thought a change of environment would help after everything that happened. I’m only doing what’s best for the two of you. For all of us, as a family.”

Wes laughed. It was empty and brittle. 

“Well, that’s news to me. We’re hardly even a family anymore.” 

“Wesley,” his dad’s voice took on a stern edge. 

“You didn’t care about us, if you did you would have asked what we wanted.” 

“And this is exactly why I didn’t.” His Dad gestured jerkily towards him with the butter knife.

“What’s that mean?” Wes slapped his phone down and glared up at his dad.

“It’s clear that you’re still too immature to deal with this like an adult. I’m doing this with your futures in mind, Wesley.” 

“By ripping us away from home? From all our friends? From Grandma and Grandpa? Uncle Ronnie?” Wes’ heart was thumping in his ears and he wanted to scream, flip the table over, something to make the pressure in his chest go away. 

His dad scoffed. 

“Don’t raise your voice at me. I told you when we moved that we would visit for the holidays.” 

“That just makes it all better. Doesn’t it?” he pushed through grit teeth. He squeezed the handle of his spoon in his fist, the cool metal pressing indentions into his skin. 

“The world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. It’s no one's fault but your own that you’re choosing to learn it the hard way.” 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” 

“Wesley!” his dad snapped. “One thing you won’t do is speak to me like that under my roof, you understand me?”

Wes held his dad’s gaze, not backing down.

“After tryouts you come right home and stay here for the weekend.” 

“What? Seriously?!” 

“Yes, seriously.”

Rage whirled in his throat and he bit down on his tongue. He stood up, his chair skidding backwards. Fucking bullshit. It was fucking bullshit. 

He threw his spoon down onto the table. It clattered and bounced off the side of his bowl. He snatched his phone and stormed away from the table and back up to his room. He slammed his door behind him and stood there seething, his hands balled into fists. 

He stood there as the seconds ticked by, eyes roaming over his room for something he wouldn’t mind breaking. The buzz of his phone distracted him, and he looked down, turning on the screen.

If it was from Dad he was gonna—

Alien Fucker: ? 

Oh. Right. 

It made sense that he’d probably woken up Kyle. He typed a message back into their chat. 

Basketball Freak: Nothing

Alien Fucker: Didn’t sound like nothing 

Basketball Freak: Dad grounded me again 

...

it’s whatever at this point  

Alien Fucker: F in the chat

…

want me to talk to him?  

Basketball Freak: no, its fine 

Alien Fucker: K just lemme know 

Kyle always felt like he had to be the mediator. In the year leading up to the divorce he was the middle man between Mom and Dad, despite Wes telling him that it was ridiculous. Their parents were grown-ass adults. They shouldn’t have fucking needed their seventeen-year-old-son to deliver messages back and forth because they couldn’t stand to talk to each other. And Dad called him immature. 

Kyle hated the tension, he took on the peacekeeper role like a job, trying to hold them all together in vain as the family crumbled around him. Wes probably hadn’t helped any, looking back. 

He picked fights with Dad like it was his job. 

And Mom… He still didn’t talk to Mom. 

He tried to get where Kyle was coming from, he really did. But pretending that shit wasn't fucked wasn’t going to unfuck it. 

Their parents deserved to know what they'd done was wrong. And if hating them was what it took, then goddamnit, Wes was going to do it.  

Wes tossed his phone onto his bed and started getting dressed for school. 

***

The school day passed by uneventful. Mia had the scoop about some couple that had broken up over the two day break that Wes hardly paid attention to. He helped her set her shutter speed and they took pictures of fast moving objects outside. 

At lunch he sat with Kyle and his stoner friends. 

In chemistry, Wes got there after Danny. He set his stuff down, scooting his stool away from him. They ignored each other the best they could as people got settled for class. 

 Wes bounced his leg on the stool’s rung and kept an eye on the clock. Two more classes until tryouts. 

Mrs. Merriweather erased the notes on the board from last class and once the bell rang her iron gaze flicked over the class to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. 

“Once I take roll, you’ll work on writing your findings from the last lab in a short essay.” An unenthused murmur filtered through the class. Wes glanced sideways to see Danny grimacing. 

Hah. Served him right. 

“Mr. Fenton. You can make up for your absence last class in an hour's detention after school today.”

Some of their classmates turned to look at Danny, half smiles and shared glances. Nothing was more unifying in a classroom than someone who wasn't you getting in trouble. 

Danny hunched his shoulders and sighed.

“Yes, Mrs. Merriweather,” he said.     

Sucked for him, but really, what did he expect? Skipping class was a risk he decided to take. 

Wes used his notes from the lab he’d done by himself, and started writing his short essay. The class quieted and the only sound was the occasional whisper and the shuffle of papers. 

Danny was quiet, fiddling with a pencil and looking at his phone under the table when Mrs. Merriweather wasn’t watching. Wes couldn’t tell who Danny was messaging, but if he had to guess it’d be the other two-thirds of his friend group. Eventually, Danny pulled out papers from a beat up binder and started working on it. From the corner of his eye he’d guess it was history homework.  

All Wes cared about was that Danny didn’t bother him. He wrote his essay with his mind half on the words and half on the growing excitement of hitting the court. Finally, finally he’d be able to do one of the only things he was good at. The minutes dragged past and around the fiftieth time he’d glanced up at the clock Danny shifted next to him. 

“Dude, chill out, you’re making me nervous,” he said quietly. He didn’t even look up from his homework when he said it. 

Wes lifted his head from his partially done essay and narrowed his eyes. 

“Mind your own business, Fenton.” 

Fenton rolled his eyes but said no more. 

Class wrapped up twenty minutes later, Wes turned in his sloppily written essay and bolted out of the room. The hallways swelled with students as they poured from their classrooms. Econ was all that stood between Wes and tryouts. He swung by his locker, grabbing his books. 

He was about to turn to leave when he bumped into someone. They both stumbled back and Wes recognized the pungent smell coming off the other person. 

“Whoa man, sorry ‘bout that.” Said a guy with blond hair and a beanie slouched over his head. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Wes said, trying to get around him. 

“Hey wait, you’re Wesley, right? Kyle’s lil bro.” 

Well, that explained the smell. 

“Uh, yeah that’s me. Sorry, but I’ve gotta—” 

“Dude, sweet. Name’s Robbie, I’m pretty chill with your brother,” he said. 

“That’s nice. Well, nice to meet you and stuff.” Wes stepped around the stoner and headed towards his class. 

“Yeah, totally! I wasn’t here for lunch but Kyle said you hung out with the group today—” Robbie said, following after Wes. 

He pushed a breath between his teeth. Great, guess this was happening now. 

“—but like Kyle’s told me a lot about you, man.” 

“Cool?” Seriously, why was this guy talking to him? 

“Yeah, I just wanted to say the group’s mega on your side.” 

“Uh-huh. Cool.” 

Wait. 

“On my side about what?” Wes slowed his pace.

“The ghosts, bro!” 

“What about them?” 

“Pf, bruh. We’ve lived in Amity Park for like, ever? We’re trying to convince him that this ghost stuff is legit.” 

Wes scoffed. “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying since I was like six.” 

Robbie shook his head. “I know what’cha mean, bro. Dude’s like a steel trap... or however that saying goes.” Robbie shrugged. 

Wes chuckled. “Let me know if you guys make any progress with him,” he said. He’d meant it as a joke, but Robbie nodded seriously. 

“Hell yeah, dude, that’s what’s up. You can count on me.” He held out a closed fist to Wes. 

He rolled his eyes but didn’t hide his grin. He fist bumped Robbie. 

“Okay, well… I’m going to class now.” 

Robbie held up his hands. “Oh, yeah, totes. I should probably do that too, now that I think about it.”

“Probably.” 

Robbie turned and walked away in the opposite direction, a single textbook swinging in his grasp. Kyle’s friends were always friendly. Even if they were a bit annoying. 

Wes was almost late for Econ, thanks to the fact the class was on the other side of the building. He slipped into the room and sat down, letting out a breath when the last bell rang thirty seconds later. 

Mr. Brown took his place at the front of the class, voice as monotonous as ever. His button-up was wrinkled around his midsection, and he ran his hands over it like that would help.

“Alright class, we’re going to start talking about the stock market today,” he said, pulling up Google on the projector.    

Wes hardly absorbed a word from Mr. Brown’s lecture, which was a total snooze-fest. The stock market wasn’t exactly riveting stuff. He bounced his leg under his desk, watching the clock.

Mr. Brown was in the middle of describing the homework: picking three stocks and tracking their ups and downs through-out the weekend, when the bell rang. Wes had been about ready to start pulling his hair out. 

He shot up from his seat and was first out the door.  

Wes made a beeline for his locker. Or at least he tried. He got stuck behind kids walking at a snail's pace three times. He got a few dirty looks for pushing past people loitering in their groups. 

Eventually, he made it to his locker and fumbled with the lock. Once open, he stuffed his books and notes anywhere they’d fit. Papers crumpled and his notebook creaseed down the center. He pulled his bag from the hook and slung it over his shoulder. He headed to the locker rooms at a jog, back to bobbing and weaving around people in the halls.  

“Mr. Weston, no running in the halls!” He heard Mr. Lancer call after him as he went past the English room. He slowed down to a power walk, not caring that he looked stupid. 

He got to the locker room and got his gym clothes out. He changed quickly, ripping his shirt off and almost tripping over his jeans. 

There were other guys in the room, some he recognized and others he didn’t. Before he put his phone away he checked it, the screen lighting up. At the very top of the lock screen was a message notification. 

Mom: How was the first week of school?

His fingers tightened around his phone, pushing the blood away from his fingertips and leaving them pale. He stared at it until the screen dimmed. 

He didn’t want to think about it, not now—not at all. He tossed his phone into his bag and zipped it up. 

Out of sight out of mind. 

He locked up the rest of his stuff and left the locker room. He followed a few other guys into the gym. 

The overhead lights reflected in bright streaks on the polished wood floor. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of cleaners and old set in sweat. He scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the floor. The high pitched sound echoed around the room; it felt like home. 

Mrs. Tetslaff was standing by the bleachers, writing something on a clipboard. A few students that looked like freshmen were wheeling out a wire cart heaped with basketballs. 

Wes walked towards Tetslaff, coming to stop a ways away. He shifted from foot to foot in anticipation. Within a minute or two there was a loose ring of guys waiting around. A majority were talking amongst themselves, joking around. Clearly they were last year’s team, bonded by hours of blood, sweat, and tears. Wes was on the outside. He felt a sour twinge in his stomach watching them. He wondered how his old team was doing… None of them had messaged him since he left. Not even Cole or Adam.

“Ay, new kid!” 

Wes turned to see a guy with short black hair and olive brown skin. The guy was a bit taller than him. He came up and clapped Wes on the back so hard it stung his skin. He stumbled forward a bit before catching himself. 

“I hear you played point in Cali.” 

Wes tapped the toe of his shoe against the ground a few times. “Yeah?” 

The guy smiled, dark eyes sparkling. He had a nicely structured face, the stubble on his chin making it a reasonable guess that he was a senior. 

“I’m José. Wesley, right? ” He crossed his arms over his chest. Wes didn’t know if he was intending to show off his biceps or not, but it certainly seemed like he was. “I was point-guard last year, and ain’t no way in hell some lanky California kid is gonna yoink my spot.” 

Wes carefully gaged for any hostility, but there was none. José was all smiles. A friendly challenge? 

“I guess we’ll just see about that, won’t we?” He smirked back. 

Somehow José’s smile got bigger. He laughed, his posture breaking into something more casual. 

“I like you already, Wesley.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake. Wes obliged. José grabbed his hand without mercy and shook so vigorously Wes thought he’d lose his arm.

“Just ‘Wes’ is fine,” he said with a wince. José released his hand. “Ow,” he muttered, shaking his hand out. 

“C’mon, you can hang with us, save you the embarrassment of mingling with the Freshmen.” José slung an arm around his shoulders and steered him into the inner circle of guys. He followed, mostly because he didn’t have much of a choice. As they got close the group looked up, varying levels of welcoming. 

“Wes, this is Mark,” he pointed to the dude the farthest from them. He was shorter than Wes, long brown hair tied behind his head. 

“‘Sup.” 

“Next we got Joseph.” José motioned to a guy with terrible posture, it made it hard to tell how tall he was. He looked familiar and it took a few seconds for the light bulb to come on. It clicked and Wes remembered he had Homeroom with him. “We just call him Jo or Joey though.” The guy in question threw up a peace sign. He had light grey hair, obviously the product of a good chunk of money and some bleach. 

Now that Wes thought of it, living in Amity Park, it was weird how many people didn’t have crazy bleached or dyed hair. Maybe it was more of a west coast thing? Or Amity was just behind on the times. Probably both.  

“This is Anthony,” José moved to the next guy. He was about Wes’ height and he had neatly cut and styled almond brown hair. He looked like he belonged in a boy band. His eyes were hazel green, and he looked Wes up and down. 

“Hey,” was all he said. Wes tried not to stare too long as José moved on. 

“Last but not least we got our boy Isaac.” He had black hair, shaved on the sides and longer on top with loose curls. He had dark skin like José. Isaac pointed finger guns at him. 

“Yo, man, pleasure to meet ya,” he said. He had more of a detectable latin accent than José.   

José broke away from Wes to clap hands with Isaac and pull him into a one armed hug. 

“This here our inner circle, Joey and Mark are Juniors like you, but the rest of us ’re Seniors.” 

“It’s nice to meet all you guys, God, you don’t know how long it feels like I’ve waited for today,” he said. He rubbed his upper arm.  

“I just hope you ain’t rusty. I heard you got game.” Isaac said.

Wes shrugged a shoulder. “I mean…” 

“Humble,” José nodded. “I like that about you, Wes. I’m ‘bouta smoke you, make sure you stay that way.” 

The rest of the group let out a chorus of “oh”s. The gauntlet had officially been thrown down in front of witnesses. Wes didn’t fight his smile as he sank into the familiar feeling. 

“Cool, dude. Just don’t cry when I dunk on your ass, okay?” 

The group oh’d louder this time. 

“Dammnn, new kid! You got spunk, never would have guessed from class,” Joseph laughed. “Seriously, in Homeroom he never talks to anyone,” he told the rest of the group. 

“Hey, no judgment, Anthony’s been needing another introvert to keep him company.” Mark grabbed Anthony by the shoulders and gave him a rattle. 

Anthony waved him off. “Shut up.” 

The sound of a whistle pierced through the gym. They all cringed and turned to look at the source of the noise.

Mrs. Testlaff had her hands on her hips. 

“What’re you all waiting around for? You know the drill, warm-ups first.” She clapped a palm against the back of her clipboard. Her voice boomed through the gym.  “Two laps around the gym, go!” 

***

The amount of drills they did had to be criminal. Wes’ muscles burned and his hair was spiked with sweat and water from the fountain down the hall. He’d forgotten his water bottle at home, which he wholeheartedly blamed on his dad.  

It took a while, shaking off the rust and sinking back into his comfort zone. It felt like the court snapped into focus and all that mattered was the squeak of shoes and the fleeting touch of the ball against the curve of his palm. His body moved the exact way he wanted it to. He spun and dodged, nailed three point shots more often than not, felt like he was riding a high.

They practiced individual skills before they moved onto mock games. José was no joke. He moved like he could read the offence’s mind. It was frustrating and exhilarating at the same time. 

The group’s synchronicity of their plays made their history together obvious. 

The practice games were intense and competitive. For every layup and three pointer Wes scored, José would score the same. The others weren’t pushovers either. Isaac would shut him out with a shit-eating grin and Anthony was way faster than he looked. 

José blew past his sophomore defender and jumped, slamming the ball through the basket and holding onto the rim for a few seconds before he dropped. He bounced into a jog, whooping in triumph. Isaac and Mark high-fived him while Joseph and Anthony, who were on Wes’s side, groaned.

Mrs. Tetslaff blew the whistle and everyone stopped, turning towards her. 

“Alright, gentlemen, good job today. Take a five minute break. Go get some water and then we’ll move into cool downs.” 

Wes sighed, his shoulders sagging. Admittedly, he was tired, but he didn’t want to stop. His new friend group walked towards the corner of the gym to a bench where they had water bottles and towels. Wes, who had neither, just went for the company. Issac grabbed his shoulder as he neared. 

“Shit, man, you can actually play,” he said, giving him a shake.

“So can you guys,” he breathed. Wes grabbed the hem of his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his face. “You didn’t take it easy on me that’s for sure.” 

“Mrs. Tetslaff was impressed, I could tell,” Joseph said, sprawling out on one of the benches. 

“You think so?” Wes glanced back at the stern woman who was in the middle of yelling at a pair of Freshmen across the gym.

“For sure, bro. The way you played you might jus’ make varsity,” José said, smacking the cap of his water bottle closed. 

“‘Might’?” Wes quirked a brow. 

“Homie, yer gonna have to get past us to make varsity,” Isaac pointed out, gesturing to the rest of the guys. Wes blinked, looking at the five of them. 

“Damn, guess you’re right.” 

“It’s okay, you can take Joey’s spot, he won’t miss it,” Mark said, snapping his hand towel at Joseph. He squawked and rolled off the bench onto the floor with a thud. 

“Asshole! And what the hell d’you mean I wouldn’t miss it?” He pushed himself up to glare up at Mark. 

“Bruh, all last season you cared more about flirting with Tiff than showing up to practice on time.” 

Joseph’s cheeks flushed pink. 

“So? I still got better stats than you did. Plus who doesn’t lose track of time when flirting with a cute girl?”

“I dunno, man. Sounds like a straight problem,” Anthony said from Wes’ other side. Wes looked over at him, a little surprised. 

Joseph pushed himself up. “Shut up, Anthony, as if you haven’t been late because you’re flirting with some guy.” 

Anthony snorted. “At this school? Gimme a break.” 

“Whatever, dude, at least I don’t wanna fuck a ghost.” 

That managed to get a reaction out of Anthony. He stiffened, cheeks tinting red. His gaze darted around the ground before his expression hardened.

“If I remember right, Joseph, you retweeted Dash’s ‘Its not gay if he’s dead’ tweet just like everybody else,” he shot back, lifting his chin.

Joseph’s eyes widened. 

Isaac, Mark and José spluttered from behind Joseph. Anthony smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Because it was funny! It was a meme, dude!”

“No need to get defensive now, it’s okay. You can admit that Phantom made you have a gay awakening.” Anthony had an evil twinkle in his eye, like a shark that’d caught the scent of blood.

“What? Dude, no I— Guys come on, help me out here.” 

Isaac stepped up next to Joseph and threw an arm around him, pulling him closer by his neck. 

“Homie, no cap, I wasn’t bi till I moved here. That probably ain’t no coincidence, know wha’m’sayin’?  

Joseph looked stricken, like he could feel himself losing the argument. 

“Oh come on—what about you, newbie?” 

All eyes turned to Wes and he swallowed. Oh, God. Why were people in Amity so goddamn weird? Attracted? To a ghost? 

“Uhm… I mean. Uh. I’ve only seen him once…” He twisted the toe of his shoe against the ground. “Also he’s technically dead, right? Isn’t that like, messed up?” 

Everyone who wasn’t Joseph just rolled their eyes or puffed out a breath. 

“He’s new, give him a while, he’ll come around,” Isaac said, sharing glances with the guys in support of literally thinking a ghost was hot. Wes tried to hide his bewilderment. He seriously doubted he’d “come around”. What was wrong with these people? 

Joseph shoved himself away from Isaac’s grip and interlocked his arm with Wes’. 

“Fuck you guys, Wes is my new bestfriend now.” 

“Boy, you literally out here with silver hair, who’da fuck you think you foolin?” José said, jabbing a flat hand towards him.

“...Elliot said it’d help me get girls’ numbers,” he said softly, lifting his hands to tend it with a frown.  

“You actually listened to that clown?” Anthony grimaced. 

“Bro, I thought you said you liked it?” 

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Oof, Anthony hit his word limit, guys.” Mark said. The guys broke into laughter. For the first time since moving to Amity Park, Wes actually didn’t hate being there. 

But because it was in-fact Amity Park, of course that’s when shit went sideways. 

There was an explosion from above them. Wes flinched, whipping around towards the source of the sound. The overhead lights flickered, and debris rained down on the center of the court. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling of the gym, sunlight streaming through. A huge shape flew down through the hole, stopping to float thirty feet up. The being glowed unnaturally and had what looked like a mohawk of green flames. The thing looked around, and then flew straight towards Wes and the group. Wes stumbled back into Isaac, his brain short circuiting.

“What the hell—” 

“Ghost!” someone screamed, and that’s all it took for the gym to descend into chaos. People scattered, fleeting through the nearest exits. 

But Wes and his new friends had nowhere to go. They all backed up, pushed against each other in the corner.

“Oh shit,” José said, voice hushed. “It’s Skulker.” 

“What? Who?” Wes whispered back. 

“Dude, shut up! He’s coming closer,” Joseph hissed, slapping a hand over Wes’ mouth. He didn’t even have time to be pissed about it before the ghost was right on top of them.

It grinned. The air felt heavy and Wes’ heart kicked in his chest. Its body was grey and sleek like metal. Out of all the ghosts that they could have, of course Amity had a fucking cyborg ghost. 

The ghost loomed over them. “Have any of you feeble little humans seen the Ghost Child recently?” Its voice was gruff and low, echoing horribly against Wes’ ears. Its eyes were disks of solid green burning into them as it stared. It was still smiling, jagged metal teeth gleaming in the dim reflected light. 

Wes wanted to say “no”, maybe that would make it leave, but Joey’s hand was still firmly over his mouth. The ghost leaned closer, its glare narrowing. 

“Well? Speak, you sniveling humans,” it growled. 

There was a moment’s silence, then: “recently? No.” 

Wes, along with the rest of the group’s attention snapped over in dismay to Anthony. He looked nonchalant, or would have if not for the rigidness of his arms and the tension in his brow. Their gaze slowly craned back over to the ghost, terrified of its reaction.

But the ghost leaned back, demeanor doing a complete one-eighty. “Huh, you haven’t?” Its eyes went cartoonishly big. He looked at a panel that appeared on the back of his wrist. “My scanners say he’s in the area.” The ghost tapped in the scanner a few times, before he gave up and shrugged. 

“No matter.” The cruel smile spread over its face again. “All I have to do is stir up a bit more trouble and my prey will surely appear.” 

Wes watched in horror as long wicked green blades extended out from the ghost’s arms. It closed the small gap between them, a chuckle building up from its throat—or whatever ghosts had. 

“Why hasn’t someone hit the Ghost Alarm?” Mark whispered. 

“Shh,” José snapped. 

Wes swallowed, his mouth going dry and his knees shaking. 

Yeah, he absolutely hated it here again. 

The ghost lifted a blade, resting its tip just above his collarbone. Holy shit, holy shit, holy—

Wes caught the sight of movement from behind the ghost: a flash of black and white. 

“Skulker, leave them alone,” came another echoing voice. Instead of feeling hot and stuffy a chill spread over Wes’ skin as the temperature of the gym dropped. 

The metal ghost spun around, its absence opening up the group's line of sight enough to see none other than Phantom. He was floating some ten feet away, arms crossed over his chest. He paid them no attention, his eyes fully locked on the hulking metal ghost. 

“Oh thank fuck,” Joseph breathed, relaxing enough to release Wes. 

“There you are, Ghost Child,” the cyborg said, sounding pleased. “I was wondering when you’d decide to—” Phantom became a blur. The next thing Wes knew, the huge ghost was sent flying, crashing into a wall on the right side of the gym. 

Phantom was now occupying the space the cyborg ghost had just been. He shook out his hand before curling it back into a fist. “Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you not to drag people into our shit, Skulker?” There was a beat, and Phantom looked over at them, like he’d just remembered they were there in the first place. His eyes flicked over all of them, and Wes couldn’t suppress his shiver when the ghost looked at him. 

“Oh, ‘sup. You guys might wanna, ya’know...” He jerked his head towards the closest exit. And then Phantom was gone, reappearing across the gym. The group didn’t need to be told twice, the next second they were moving. They scrambled out of the corner, practically tripping over one another. 

Wes felt like he was frozen in place. He stared dumbly at where Phantom and the metal ghost were now locked in battle. 

“Dude, what’re you waiting for? Let’s go!” José said, grabbing Wes by the arm and hauling him towards the doors. 

“Wait—” he objected weakly. His legs felt like jelly as he moved. He wanted to see the fight, see Phantom. He didn’t know why, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him. 

He had questions.

But his new friends didn’t stop until they’d dragged him out through the metal swinging doors of the gym and into the hallway. The door slowly swung back closed, and Wes caught a glimpse of green bolts streaking like comets through the air and Phantom colliding with the ground.  

[lokispettigerr]

Iridescent: Henry Cavill x Reader NSFW SMUT

A 2K follower celebration prompt from @thereisa8ella: Henry Cavill Smut (maybe out at event or public) Really? You wanna have sex….here? Now?”

Summary: Reader attends a party with Henry. After meeting someone new, she is filled with a supreme longing that doesn’t allow her to think of anything else until her needs are satisfied. 

Word Count: 3,700+

Warnings: So many, Las Drugas Putas (there is a substance used to get reader to go into a “heat”, Daddy Cavill, spanking kink, and on and on. Dear gods, help us now. We are but sharks to eat his meat. 

Taglist: In reblog

A/N: This was supposed to be attached to the prompt celebration ask, but I could not have a keep reading cut in the ask and didn’t want to corrupt the mind of innocents. So here it is. Have at it my loves. 

"Hurry up!" Sarah said, pulling me along behind her. We dashed up a winding staircase, around a corner and down the hall to a solid, oaken, double-door.

"What're we doing here?" I asked in a sharp whisper, "Henry is going to start to wonder where I am, Sarah."

She glanced over her shoulder at me, "He can thank me later,” she said winking. 

With her small, tan hand she rapped on the door, "Ty, it's me, Sarah."

Nothing happened, "Wow, yeah I'm missing out on the party with Henry, for this."

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes at me.

"So ungrateful," she said with a smile.

She knocked on the door again, "Ty, I brought her with me."

The large doors opened and a long tall blond ushered us in with a slight bow of her head.

From the back of the room, a voice carried out, "Thank you, Roxanna, help yourself to some Dité."

A man with slick-backed, dark hair stood against a floor to ceiling window, eyes downcast to watch the party-goers down below. 

"Tell me, Sarah," the man crooned, "Who brought the monstrosity of a man down there? Come, Sarah, look." 

Sarah walked over to join him at the window, her fingers stroked the thick stubble on his jaw. 

He grabbed her hand, aggressively, "Not yet Sarah, not without permission."

The man Ty grabbed her around the neck, "Look down there, who brought that, god?" He twisted his neck as if trying to relieve tension, and his finger hooked at the collar around his neck in an attempt to loosen it. 

Sarah giggled, "That’s Henry, Ty, and no one brought him." 

Ty's eyes widened.

"Henry brought her," Sarah said. 

They both looked at me, excitement in their eyes. I beginning to feel uncomfortable. Why did I come with Sarah? Why did I leave Henry? 

"Well Henry is probably wondering where I am at, so I should head on back to him."

"But I wanted you, girl, and little Sarah here was a good girl and brought you to me."

"Careful, Ty. Henry has a temper when it comes to her," Sarah said with a smile. 

Ty glanced back down at Henry through the window and quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? That is just too rich," Ty looked between me and Henry, "Oh my, my, Sarah, you naughty girl."

From out of a pocket inside his jacket he pulled out a vial with a dropper, a deep red liquid within. 

"Open wide," Ty said holding the dropper above Sarah, when she opened her mouth he let a drop of the garnet liquid fall to her tongue.

"Okay, Sarah, I'm gonna go. You’re my friend and I wanted to be with you, but this is too much. I'm going back to Henry now, are you coming?"

"Ah, ah, ah, kitten. Not so fast. You aren't leaving until we’ve had our fun. I promise you’ll  enjoy it."

I looked to Sarah, but she was staring at Ty, her pupils dilated making her normally blue eyes look black.

She snuggled against Ty's neck and sighed. 

"Not yet," Ty snapped, "go sit in the corner, Sarah. If you touch yourself without my permission you know what will happen."

Sarah huffed, "No, please," she whined. 

"Not until after I have had my fun." 

I rolled my eyes and began walking towards the door. 

Suddenly, an iron grip was against my wrist.

"You're not going anywhere."

I turned to face Ty, "Let go of me!" I pulled against him.

"To the window darling!" He laughed, "Come see your love."

He pulled me and though I dug my heels in, he was stronger.

He forced me against the window and stood behind me, his erection pushing into my backside. 

"I see why you like him. I like him too. Let's see what we can do to you, shall we? I like to watch.”

"Get your hands off me!"

He was tall, strong and no matter my defenses, he overpowered me.

His hands went to my jaw, turning my head towards him, "Open your mouth, girl." He said, his thumb stroking my bottom lip.

I spat on him, "Go Fuck yourself!"

His grip tightened harshly around my jaw and he forced me to look back, down at the party below, and at Henry. 

"Open your mouth for him, girl, and I won't defile what is his."

I glanced down at Henry laughing and talking animatedly to other party-goers. 

As if he felt my gaze on him, he stopped and began to look around. His eyes lifted slowly, up to where I stood with Ty against the window. 

I knew he couldn't see me, the glare on the window pane from the sun dancing on the lake at the edge of the yard was too bright.

But if he could have seen me, if there wasn't the harsh glare, he would have been staring directly into my eyes. 

"Okay," I said in a hushed tone. "I'll do it for him, just let me go."

Ty chuckled, "Ah, love. How romantic. When I'm done with you, you'll be like a mad dog. Open, like you want Henry's hard cock between those luscious lips of yours."

I did as he commanded and opened my mouth. 

The dropper loomed before me and one crystalline drop hung, quivering from the end. Ty squeezed it and it splashed down on my tongue. 

I closed my mouth. Interestingly, the liquid was tasteless.

Ty sealed my lips with a kiss, "Good," he said smiling, "You’re free to go, but you’ll be back."

I squinted at him, questioningly, “No, I won’t.” 

Sarah was writhing uncomfortably in the corner, moaning and whimpering. 

"Come on, Sarah, let's go. Now."

"Leave her," Ty said, leaning  cooly  against the window, looking back down at the party, in the same position he was when we entered the room. 

"You’d only hurt her by taking her, she needs release. She's aching... Get out."

"Sarah?"

She looked at me, her eyes mad and full of lust and longing and hunger like I’d never seen. 

"Go, please," she whimpered, "I'm okay, he’ll take care of me."

I nodded and walked away, past Roxanna who was beginning to undress. With one look back at Sarah, I opened the door and left. 

I ran back to Henry. 

I dashed down the stairs, my hand sliding down the white, slick banister as I descended. I was in a rush to get away from what had just taken place but also feeling like I was in a hurry to get something else. 

Sweat droplets began to form on my chest and one rolled down my neck, over my collarbone until it was caught by the neckline of my dress.

How odd, it hadn't seemed that hot when I first arrived. 

Sarah, yes, I needed to tell Henry about Sarah, or call… Wait what about Sarah? All I could think about was Henry. The way his voice sounded like it belonged on a radio show while I drove along a winding, rural road at night. Or the way his big hands cupped my head gently between them as he placed a kiss of stolen passion on my lips. Or, oh my, just the thought of him between my legs, thrusting into me, as his muscles rippled, his eyes almost iridescent in the dark. 

I gulped, my throat burned, and my hand instinctively went to it.

I needed Henry now, between my legs, any part of him, above me, beneath me, as long as whatever part of him was inside of me. 

Henry, was all I needed. 

What was happening to me? 

I could barely see the floor beneath my feet, all I could see was skin, naked skin, and teeth barred as orgasm after crashing orgasm caused a growl or moan to tear through them. 

I heard the party-goers and knew I had made it to the backdoor. I could feel the cool breeze lapping the sweat from my skin, but it was painfully erotic. Just feeling the wind caressing me made me wet with need. 

I was still fumbling for a wall or a railing, unable to see when I heard Henry, "There you are Darling."

His voice, his damned, radio show voice filled my head with swimming, thick lust. 

"Henry, I need--," I couldn't finish my sentence… Did I know what I needed? 

"Whoa," he said as I stumbled, "Looks like we need to get you home." 

He was smiling, crookedly, his pointed teeth shining.

And I wanted those teeth to scrape against my flesh, against my sensitive nipples.

His strong hand moved to rest along the small of my back and it burned there like a hot iron.

I flinched against him.

His eyebrow quirked, did he have to look so… Like sex?

"No, I'm fine babe, I just need a minute, probably just need to snack on something," I stated.

"I can get you something." Though he said it innocently, I immediately thought of him forcing me to my knees, hooking a finger in my mouth to open my lips and force the head of his cock down my throat while he moved his hips, hands behind my face to the rhythm he created, while I sucked, hungrily, he would growl as he called me his, "greedy little whore."

He turned, getting ready to head to one of the servers for some hors d'oeuvres for me. "No, Henry, I--I don't think I'm hungry. Just can you--." I reached out, hooking my fingers in the crook of his elbow. 

He came closer, towering over me, the front of his body flush against mine. I slid my arm around his neck, my fingers brushing against the tips of his hair.

I couldn't help the overpowering urge to suck on something, anything, so the kiss I planted on his neck quickly turned into me suck. 

He chuckled, "Babe, okay, you really need food or sleep or something."

"No," I half moaned half whined. 

"Careful, darling, you're causing something to get hard, and there are people around."

I smiled against his ear, "Good, slide it between my soaking, wet lips, or shove it down my throat."

He pulled back from me, his eyebrows went up, his eyes glowing with boyish excitement, "Really? You want to have sex...Here? Now?"

I pushed a kiss against his lips and giggled, "Mmm."

He pulled me around a corner of the house, the mingling voices of the party-goers were just background noise, their clinking champagne glasses and musical laughter sounding like the tambour of a song.

Henry pushed me against the wall. I didn't realize I was panting until I noticed my breasts heaving against his chest.

He looked down, staring, mesmerized at my cleavage. He shook his head slowly, meeting my eyes again.

"Damn, Kitten," he whispered, "Why must you tempt me like this?"

I didn't answer, instead, my hand slid against his belt, further down, back and forth against the bulge of his erection. It twitched against my fingertips and I smiled darkly at him.

He moaned, "As much as I want to split you in half from the inside right now, Kitten…"

I grabbed his cock and rubbed my thumb around the tip of it. 

"Fuck," he rasped, grabbing my hand and forcing it away from him, "As much as I want to...I don't want people to think badly of you."

With my other hand I brought his to my breasts, and with no encouragement from me, his fingers push past the neckline of my dress to feel at my hard nipple. I could feel the wet heat radiating within me. My pussy clenched, strong enough to make me cry out. It wanted something in it, and I remained empty.

The sun was beginning to set, the way it illuminated against his skin, he looked like some golden god, Icarus or Apollo.

I moved around Henry, wanting his back against the wall so I could do other things.

I went to my knees, my fingers deftly undoing his belt, sliding his zipper down. 

"Dammit, Kitten, not now," he demanded. 

"Yes, now." My fingers dove into the opening of his pants, to explore what I knew was mine. When my fingers touched the heat of his long length I had to bite my lip and keep myself from squirting.

Shit this was dangerous, and though I knew that, though I reasoned that I wanted to just go home, I couldn't stop. 

I could hear someone speaking over a microphone to the crowd that had gathered, and raucous laughter sounded out in response. The laughter bubbled over me, making my head spin with joy. It was like the tickle of water jets in a hot tub blowing against my skin.

The moment I freed Henry's solid cock, overly hot with his arousal, I licked my lips. 

I closed my eyes, a feeling of ecstasy from the anticipation of the act I was about to perform. I wanted his hot cum to pour forth, over my lips, gushing past my tongue and setting the fire of passion down my throat. I knew if I could get that from him, my incredible thirst would be satiated. 

Before my lips could close around his girth, before my tongue could even slide along his already weeping tip, he roped his fingers in my hair, pulling my head back.

"It's cute when you think you’re in control, but when you become a brat and don't do what I say, you have to be punished, Kitten." 

My eyes widened with fear.

I looked past him, up the side of the house to a giant window. 

Now that the sun had gone down I could see clearly  who was standing behind the glass, watching.

Ty stood, a perverse smile on his gorgeous face. Sarah was on her knees at his feet, but all Ty seemed to care about was me and Henry. Ty's hand was going methodical back and forth on his cock. 

"Look at my when I'm speaking, Kitten," Henry growled, tugging at my hair. 

Henry's hand went behind my neck and he forced me forward, towards the back entrance of the house. Up the steps I went, weakly trying to turn towards him and touch him or taste him or grab him, but he continued. 

Finally, we made it inside and he took me down a side hallway, past a few doors to one near at the end.

The room was no more than a study with one couch, a desk, several books and pamphlets, a few lamps, and the like. 

Henry pushed me towards the couch, released my neck and sat down. 

"Bend over my legs," he ordered.

I knew what was coming, I knew I was going to be in pain. 

I bit my lip, hesitating.

"Each moment you defy me, brat will make it worse for you."

I gulped and slowly bent down, distributing my weight evenly on his solid legs.

"Good girl," he praised.

I could feel the end of my dress sliding up against the back of my thigh, causing goosebumps.

I moaned against the sensation. 

"Please, yes, touch me," I begged. 

"Shh, shh, baby, of course," he whispered. He leaned towards my ear and rested his cheek on the back of my head. 

"You ready for me?" He asked

I could feel his hard cock pushing against his pants.

I panted, my pussy beginning to tingle. With just his words I could easily cum.

His fingers walked against the back of my thigh and he grabbed my ass, greedily. 

"This is mine, you understand?"

"Fuck," I whispered, "Yes."

"Mhm," he released my ass and his index finger paired with his middle finger was suddenly rolling around my soaking wet lips. I could hear the sound my lust was making as my wet pussy lips slid back and forth on his fingertips.

"Oh, you're definitely ready, little deviant." 

A moan escaped my lips surprising me. 

His fingers slid slowly inside of me, feeling around for my g-spot. 

I gasped, my legs already beginning to tremble as I readied myself for the coming orgasm.

"Did I say you could cum, Kitten?" His breath blew strands of my hair around my ear.

"I can't--," I whined, "Please, baby, it hurts."

He pushed as deep as his hand would allow, and I cried out, the orgasm spiked, peaking within me, getting ready to overtake all other sensations, and then--

Henry removed his fingers from within me, his still soaked hand came down, Pop!, burning on my ass.

I shrieked from the shock. 

He chuckled, his hand moving off my burning skin. 

I tensed as he came down again, harder this time and I gasped, my eyes widening. 

Still, the heat within me rose.

Again and again he spanked me, and though my eyes watered and my skin was inflamed and on fire, my arousal grew. 

"Henry, I - I'm cumming, shit, shit," I cried.

"Fuck, you're hot," he said.

His fingers plunged into my pussy, harder than I imagined possible, straight to my g-spot. 

"Cum for me, Kitten."

"Yes, yes!" I exclaimed. Ready and overdue for my sweet release, and with his hands tickling the sensitive spot within, I let my orgasm crescendo, it lit my body on fire, completely on edge, and released me from its powerful, all-consuming grip. My walls clenched around Henry's skilled fingers.

"God, feel how tight you are. I've got to stick my dick in you,” he said. 

Henry slid out from under me and gently positioned me on the couch, then pulled my dress over my head and removed the rest of our clothes.

My legs opened and I slid my hand down one, towards my still clenching pussy.

"No, no touching yourself." 

"Baby, please, I need more," I whined. 

He climbed between my spread legs, one hand positioning him above me, and his other grabbed both of my wrists in one quick swoop to hold them like a vice above my head.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, you're getting more than you can possibly even handle, right now." With that, his dick was shoved inside my eager walls. On impact, they gripped down on him.

"Fuck, you feel good, baby," he said as he leaned down to place relaxed kisses on my lips.

"Tell me if you can't handle all of this, okay?"

I nodded. His cock was huge, but my arousal made me open and ready for him. 

He released my wrists, "Hold the back of your legs, baby," he crooned against my lips. 

I did as he said.

His hands hooked behind my knees and he hoisted them up to rest them over his shoulders.

He was getting ready to go as deep as he could. 

I tensed, I had never had trouble taking his length before, but he was bending me in half to fill me so completely. 

"I--." 

"Shhh," Henry cut me off, one hand went over my mouth, "You're my little, greedy slut, you know you want my cum buried as deep as it will go.”

My eyes fluttered shut, damn, he was right.

When he had adjusted to the rhythmic, powerful clenching of my walls around him, he began to rock his hips, sliding in and out of me. His jaw was clenched. It was the face he made when he fought back cumming too soon.

I moved my hips with him.

"You keep moving like that and I won't be able to stop from filling you up."

I smirked from behind his hand. 

I kept moving my hips, hearing him sliding wetly, in and out. 

He chuckled, "Oh, so you want it like that?" 

I looked him in the eye and nodded my head. 

With that, he scooted back, his cock sliding slowly, so close to coming out of  me, right at the edge of my lips, he paused and slammed into me. 

I groaned, but took all of him. I could feel the skin of his groin flush up against my lower lips. 

He looked at me with a wild smile and wonder in his eyes, "What a slut for me. Since you've been such a good little slut, I'll let you cum again, baby."

His words made stars begin to gather behind my eyelids, excitement roiled in my core. 

As he pumped relentlessly within me, he removed his hand from my mouth and instead began to roll them around my aching clit.

I hissed, the bundle of nerves was still sensitive from my earlier orgasm.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed. 

My orgasm began to mount with burning fury, a glorious uprising stroked around my slick clit and he slammed deep into my core.

"You cumming baby? I can't hold it much longer."

I groaned in answer, as the orgasm blasted through every nerve of my body, seemingly spreading like a lighting bolt.

My body bucked and through it I heard Henry's own matching groan, he burrowed deep within me as his seed was pumped against my cervix. 

We remained that way, caught up in our ecstasy for a moment and he slid out, his cock covered with our mixture. Henry moved me on my side as he laid behind me. 

He kissed my shoulders. 

Finally, I was satisfied, the hunger had stopped, my needs or whatever needs the garnet liquid that Ty had given to me had been fulfilled.

"So," he purred against my bare shoulder, causing chill bumps to rise on my skin, "You have always had a high libido, but what got into you there?"

"Mmm," I started, my eyes closing from exhaustion, "Sarah took me upstairs earlier… Some guy that she knew was there." I didn't want to tell him everything, because I remembered Sarah's warning to Ty earlier Careful, Ty. Henry has a temper when it comes to her.

Sarah was right.

"Darling, tell me."

I glanced over my shoulder to find Henry's concerned face.

"The guy upstairs forced me to take something. Called Dité."

Henry seemed to turn to ice behind me, his gaze looked murderous.

"He did what?!" 

"It's fine babe, I seem fine now, I'm not even sure it did anything."

"I know very well what it does. It's an aphrodisiac which seems harmless, but one drop can cause someone to go into cardiac arrest!" 

He got up, he was livid and breathing heavily.

"I'm taking you to the car and then I'm dealing with this guy. He doesn't dare touch what is mine," He growled, "He's a dead man."

I grabbed Henry's hand in perfect trust with him. Together we left.

****** Yes, yes, yes this is very very good and I am pleased and I edited this with the most wicked smile on my face. I hope I destroyed each and every one of you especially @lovelyxserpent-br​. Leave me your feedback in the comments! And let us reblog and continue to destroy for Daddy!Cavill.  If you would like to be tagged in any fic please send me an ask in my askbox.  Best, Loki’s Pet Tiger

[theweasleyslytherin]

i knew you (ron weasley x reader) part 6

part 1/masterlist

summary: Ron inexplicably broke up with Cassiah Black just days before their final year at Hogwarts, leaving them both with broken hearts and no future plans, but too stubborn and too proud to fix things. The centuries-old rivalry between their Gryffindor and Slytherin houses only make things worse, and friendships are truly put to the test. Will they find their way back together before the year ends, or will the end of their time at Hogwarts be the last time they ever see the each other?

warnings: angst, drug/alcohol use, eventual smut ;)

CHAPTER 6 - awkward situations

I hope I cross your mind when you're too high and wide awake I hope you wonder if I'm happy, if I'm still the same And when you turn over, see her there I hope you think of me and how you wish it would've ended differently

i don't miss u, Caro __________________________

"Blimey, Neville, stop staring. She's gonna think you're a complete creep."

Neville blushed, immediately snapping back to looking at Ron and shielding his face in embarrassment. "M'not staring," he insisted, "She just happened to catch my eye, is all."

Ron snorted, leaning back in his chair and giving the boy a knowing look, "She must happen to catch your eye a lot, then, Longbottom."

The 'she' in question, Luna Lovegood, paid the boys no mind. She was completely entranced by the book she was reading, blocking out the chaos occurring around her as students filed into the classroom. Her wavy blonde hair was falling in a curtain around her face, protecting her from the outside world.

Neville sighed, knowing that trying to play it off was useless. He was a horrible liar. "Just please don't mention it to anyone. I'm never gonna get up the courage to take to her and its... embarrassing," he admitted, his cheeks turning pink.

Ron nodded and clapped a hand against Neville's back, "I wouldn't dream of it, mate." Especially, he thought, since Neville had generously failed to mention the way that he spent all of their class together stealing glances at Cassiah from across the room.

Speaking of which, where was she? The lecture was about to start, and being a prefect and all, she usually made it a point to not be late. It was usually more like Ron to be late than Cassiah – she was kind of the brains of the operation – but this semester he had made it his goal to focus more on his schoolwork and hopefully get his grades up before graduation.

Almost as if on cue, Cassiah burst into the room in a flurry of flying robes and unorganized stacks of paper and books. She looked flustered, her hair pulled into a disgrace of a bun on the top of her head and her robes flailing behind her. Ron still thought she looked beautiful, although it did remind him of the time she got too fucked up at a party last year and thought she was going to throw up. Ron had pulled her hair back into the world's worst bun – not dissimilar to this one – just in case, but she'd ended up sipping water and pulling it together. She always did.

Cassiah's normal seat with the Slytherins was taken. Frankly, Ron was surprised that the guys hadn't saved her seat, but then again, she was late and it was Malfoy and Crabbe he was talking about. Cassiah's gaze travelled over the room searching for an empty seat close to the front when Ron was hit with a horrifying realization. This was a pretty big class, and he and Neville were pretty much the only people in it without a whole friend group. So, not only were there no seats in the front of the classroom, but there were no empty seats anywhere. Except, that is, at his and Neville's table.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath and at that exact moment he watched Cassiah realize what was about to have to happen. Neville looked vaguely nauseous.

And then she was walking towards them.

Cassiah forced her lips up into a tiny, awkward smile, and Ron ducked his head, not wanting to look. He couldn't look. She stood in front of the table for a moment, commenting simply, "I guess I'll be sitting here, then. Hello, Neville."

Neville let out a shaky, "Hi, Cassiah. How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you," she replied. She looked like she was choking for a second before finally adding, "Hi Ron."

Ron was forced to look up from his textbook that he was suddenly very interested in, "Hi, Cassie," he said quickly. He could've sworn he saw a dash of pain rush over her face at the use of his old nickname, but he'd never called her anything else. He must've been wrong though, because she dropped her books down at the table and took her seat without another word. It felt as though every eye in the room was watching them.

Cassiah must have noticed this, too, because she craned her neck to look over her shoulder and say aloud to the class, "Alright, everyone. The show's over." A few people chuckled nervously in response, and Ron started to, as well–

And that was when he saw it. With her neck exposed at this angle and her hair up in a bun, it was on full display for him to see. He shook his head quickly and squinted, not wanting to believe it. There was no way that this was real. His stomach dropped down to his feet and his throat swole up.

There it was on Cassiah's beautiful, tanned neck. A massive, purplish bruise that he instantly recognized as a love bite. Now he was going to throw up.

She turned back towards the table and they locked eyes for a moment. For a moment, blue met hazel and the whole world stopped.

But Ron felt his eyes beginning to shine with tears he wasn't willing to let her see, and just as quickly as the moment had begun, it ended as he turned away and began stuffing his books into his bag. She'd totally seen him staring and now he looked pathetic.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Neville asked, concerned and completely oblivious to what had just happened. He had been fortunate enough to not be at the right angle to see the absolute monstrosity on Cassiah's neck. Whatever guy had left it there must have had some sort of vampire fetish.

Ron fumbled over his words as he practically jumped up out of his seat and slung his back haphazardly over his shoulder, "I don't feel well all of a sudden. I reckon it's a stomach bug. I've got to go see Madam Pomfrey."

So much for prioritizing his schoolwork, he thought bitterly. Three weeks into school and he was already ditching class over a girl. He left the room in such a hurry that he didn't hear or see a single thing anyone might've said to him. His blood was pumping in his ears so loudly that he couldn't hear anything over the ringing.

At least he wasn't fully lying about the stomach bug thing, because he did puke in the bathroom once he made it safely out of the classroom. It didn't make him feel any less heartbroken, though.

___________

"So Cassiah is definitely seeing someone new," Ron confessed to Harry at dinner later that day.

Harry furrowed his brow, giving Ron a strange look. "Yeah... I already knew that, mate. She went on that date with Ernie Macmillan," he said calmly. Ron shook his head before staring at his feet, willing himself to get his emotions under control. Harry saw through him and prodded, "Judging by the reaction, I'm guessing there's something you're not telling me?"

Ron swallowed and looked back up, but still refused to make eye contact with Harry. He couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason. He nodded, "Yeah. A massive hickey on her neck this morning in Potions. I had the pleasure of a front row seat because she was late and had to sit with me and Neville."

"Shit," Harry said plainly, "That's why you've been off tonight. You've barely even touched your dinner."

Ron pursed his lips together, staring down at his still-full plate of roast beef – his favorite. But he still felt sick from the morning's events and he couldn't bring himself to eat it. He poked lamely at it with his fork.

He knew he should eat – he had Quidditch practice tonight and he needed his strength. Plus, he should be ravenous after heaving up breakfast and not eating all day, but he felt nothing.

"I don't know who it even could be," he stated instead of answering Harry's comment, "I mean, Macmillan just doesn't seem like the type to be so aggressive on the first date, but who else could it be? I hadn't heard of her seeing anyone else."

Harry considered. "Yeah... But, and please don't take this the wrong way. But you don't really run in the same circles anymore, so I don't know how you would hear, anyways."

"Thank you so much for pointing that out, mate," murmured Ron, and cursing under his breath, "Bloody hell, what am I becoming?"

The sat in silence for a few minutes, Ron picking at his food like a bird. He listened quietly at the other boys talked and laughed boisterously amongst themselves. He was honestly a bit dazed out, staring at the reflection of the candles in his glass, when he heard Seamus call out his name,

"Ron. Black is walking over here, just warning you, buddy."

And for the second time today, Ron looked over to see Cassiah approaching him. This time, she looked even more nervous that the last. What could she possibly want? he thought, feeling his jaw set tight. Whatever she needed, she could ask her new boyfriend.

"Um... hello," he stuttered when she stopped in front of him, all plans of acting cool and detaching flying out the window the second he was in her presence.

"Hi," she said back, smiling softly and then letting her gaze flutter nervously to all the other Gryffindor guys. Ron realized, watching her, that this was the first time she'd seen any of his friends since the break up. They used to be her friends, too.

Bloody hell, she was speaking again. "Ron, I heard you say you were sick earlier when you left class. I know we're not really... talking right now," she paused, pursing her lips together as if working up the courage to speak, "But I know your grades are really important to you this year and I just wanted to offer you my notes. I take pretty good ones, if you remember," she offered, laughing awkwardly at the end. She was smiling, but something about her energy was making Ron feel nervous in return.

"O-Oh," he stammered, mentally smacking himself for acting like a bloody idiot, "Thank you, Cassie. That would be great, actually." He paused for a moment, and then plastered a smile onto his face so he didn't look as rude as he felt.

She nodded for a second, almost as if she was expecting him to say no, and then thrust forward a handful of papers to him. He took them from her, studying them for a moment. Same magnificent penmanship and color-coordinated note-taking system. So part of her was still his same Cassie, despite the blemish defiling her beautiful neck.

"Thank you so much," he said, smiling up at her, "I'll get them back to you as soon as I'm through with them."

"Aright," she stated.

"Aright," he reassured.

She bit her lip before finally saying, "Take care, Ron."

"Take care, Cassie," he replied before she turned on her heal and walked away.

When he turned back to his friends at the table, none of them were breathing. They were probably too scared.

"What?" he remarked, "Just cause we broke up we can't be friendly?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at him and answered, "We never said that. I just didn't think that you wanted to be friends with her, especially after the hickey situation earlier today."

Ron sighed. Harry was partially right. It really hurt him to know that Cassiah was moving on, but perhaps she was the wrong person to be angry with. Their interaction had left him feeling a lot better about things. He was the one who'd pushed her away and forced to be open to other options. At least she'd picked someone as benign and neutral as Ernie to move on with. Perhaps the only person he should really harbor any bad feelings towards is himself.

"Well," he considered, "It seems like she's trying to be friendly, and maybe if she's trying, I should try to get over my feelings to be friends, too. It's better than being enemies."

And he meant it. If he could get over his feelings for her and the hurt he felt when he thought of her, it would be better to be friends with Cassie than not have her in his life at all. So that's what he would do.

He dug into his dinner, suddenly having his appetite back and ready for Quidditch practice.

__________________________

So they're talking again! That's a step in the right direction... right...?

We'll just have to wait and see ;)

Sorry that this chapter is sooo short. The content for the next chapter just didn't seem to make sense with the rest of this one. It'll be up soon, though.

Thank you so much for being so supportive! xx jenna

Published on my Wattpad (halebscallison) and my Tumblr (theweasleyslytherin). 

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

Presents and Prizes and Sweets and Surprises

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, Jack Kline, Mrs. Butters

Word Count: approx 1600

Warnings: Spoilers for episode “Last Holiday” and language

A/N: This is just my way of venting my frustration with the episode. I was going to do a kind of fix-it fic, but this turned more into a reader insert as concerned spectator kind of thing. No one edited this, so sorry for any errors. This is frustration and crack.

Poking holes, making fun, wishing they were doing better things with the last few episodes - you know, the fangirl business.

“There’s a what living here? And what does it have to do with your underwear?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “A wood nymph. She was folding them for me.”

“Since when do you fold your underwear?”

“Since Mrs. B. started doing it for me,” he shrugs.

Speak of the devil, or nymph - she scurries in from the hall.

Her eyes are wide as she looks you over, a disapproving scowl on her face.

“Dean, we do not bring lady guests into the Men of Letters bunker. Ms. Sands was an exception, but it should not be the rule.”

“Lady guests? I live here,” you glare as you over-enunciate each word.

Clearly caught off-guard, she splutters, unable to reply more than a few cut-off words as she looks helplessly at Dean. “A-a woman? IN the Men of Letters bunker?”

“Times have changed, lady. And I don’t know if you’re aware, but you are also a female.”

“I am a wood nymph,” she says haughtily, “Friend of the goddess Artemis, and not subject to the problems a woman may bring to this bunker.”

You start to move on her, but Dean steps in, gently keeping you back with a hand on your shoulder, “Okay, I think this could be going better. Mrs. B., she does live here. We don’t really subscribe to the whole ‘fairer sex’ thing. I was just getting ready to find you for introductions when you walked in. Now, I think we can all get along, right?”

He looks between you with a shit-eating grin as though he just solved the easiest riddle, even though he didn’t do shit. Mrs. B. stands there wringing her hands and staring at you with trepidation, while you eye her up, looking for any signs of malice.

“I know!” Dean says with all the excitement of a ten year-old, “Mrs. B. how about you bring out some of those butter cookies you whipped up earlier and we kick this off right?”

She turns to fulfill his request just as you answer, “No, thanks. I don’t mind fending for myself. In fact, I prefer it. Dean, can I speak with you? Alone?”

He shakes his head and looks at her apologetically. She just waves him off and leaves.

“What the hell?”

“Yeah!” you throw your hands up, “What the hell?! You need to tell me everything that happened since she showed up.”

Days pass. Once Dean had told you what happened to make Mrs. Doubtfire appear, you went to Sam, hoping for some reason unfortunately, it seemed to be a lost cause. Once she highlighted the monster radar, they were constantly on the run. A quick vampire nest here, a coven there. In between Dean nestled himself in his purple huggy nightgown and drowned himself not in alcohol, but in mashed potatoes and pie. She even had Jack drawn out of his new soul-based depression thanks to her smoothies.

_____

“Won’t you join us, dear?” her sickly sweet voice invites you as the guys line up pumpkins for carving. She wears a forced smile as she clasps her hands in front of her, still uncomfortable with your presence.

“Nope,” you pop with an obnoxious ‘p’ sound, “I’m super right here.” You wave your deli-bought sandwich in the air and look back to your laptop.

“C’mon!” Dean groans. He looks up from the face he’s drawing on the huge, out-of-season monstrosity. “Relax a little, Mrs. B is even gonna roast up some pumpkin seeds - salty and sweet!” He looks at her with an excited and expectant nod.

She looks back like a proud grandmother, “Of course, dear!” As though there were no other option, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Like I said, I’m good. You guys enjoy your...whatever over there.”

They shrug and ignore you, laughing like children and throwing pumpkin goop at each other until she scolds them. Until now, Halloween was despised by Sam, and only an excuse for slutty costumes for Dean. Not that it hadn’t been tried. There were attempts at parties, birthdays, Christmas; Jody invited you all over plenty, especially after the mess with Mary. But no. Suddenly Stepford Granny appears and it’s all hands on deck for celebrations. Something wasn’t right, and for some stupid reason, the guys didn’t notice or care.

_____

Your research on wood nymphs doesn’t offer a whole lot, they are pretty rare. More kindly disposed toward men according to a source, which explains her reaction to you, and summoned to attend the gods on Olympus, which also explains her service kink apparently. Other than that, it was a whole lot of crap.

On occasion you find her in the library, staring wistfully at the photo of the Men of Letters who previously occupied the bunker, but once she notices your presence, she shakes herself from her reverie and starts puttering about, lamenting the state of things around her.

Dean is blissful. Sam had been reluctant, but even he seems to be walking around without his usual dark cloud. You want them to be happy, to have the memories others take for granted, but the way she side-eyes Jack, the way she passive-aggressively speaks about you even when you are in the room, it won’t stop nagging at you.

“What do you miss most about them?” you ask her one day after she sends the boys off with their crustless sandwiches.

“Oh, well, it’s hard to miss them much when they’ve just left,” she laughs, stiff with discomfort.

“Not Sam and Dean, I mean them,” you tip your head in the direction of the photo on the wall.

“Oh.” She takes a half step toward it, but stops. “It’s - they gave me purpose, a home, and a family.”

“What about your real family? The other nymphs?”

She straightens out her stupid, festive apron then, looking at you dead on, “Mr. Sinclair and those gentlemen were no less a real family to me than my natural brethren,” she pauses for a deep breath, then for a moment longer until a tight smile pulls across her lips. “Now, have you eaten? Are you sure I can’t get you...”

“No,” you cut her off for the millionth time she’s asked. 

“Well then, I best get back to work,” she mutters and wanders off.

_____

When you finally get the chance to corner Sam, he’s rushing while getting ready for his date and really only half-listening.

“And I just think that it’s really telling that Cuthbert Sinclair was the one to bring her on, I mean, he wasn’t always on the level with his magic and acquisitions and what the hell are you wearing?”

He turns around, smoothing down the brown sweater vest, “What? Mrs. Butters set it out for me. Said it makes me look dashing.” He smiles and shyly tips his head to the side, the way he does before giving his puppy eyes. All lost on you.

“You look like a sitcom dad. You’re just going out with Eileen, right?”

“Nothing wrong with looking your best.”

“Sure,” you agree with uncertainty, “But Sam, didn’t you look into this?”

“She was right about the first vamp case, she’s powered up the radar, and the bunker is on full blast, what’s wrong with that?”

“Because Sam! Magic also comes with a price, and when has a monster ever really been so thrilled to live in servitude? Or anyone for that matter? You think this is all out of the goodness of her heart?”

He looks at you, confused, “Yes?”

You throw your hands up, just as Sam checks his watch and curses under his breath before hastily leaving the room.

“What the fuck. Fine, you guys don’t care? I don’t care. I am fucking out of here.” No one stops you.

_____

Two days later, you’re called back to the bunker and very apologetic Winchesters, and cake.

“So she was a Nazi murder monster who also liked serving milk and cookies? Cool. Cool, cool. And Jack found this out? Jack?! I mean, no offense buddy, but Sam! You’re the lore genius! You’ve got this place set up with your own fucking Sammy decimal system, and you missed this!”

“I mean, if she was doping up all our food, like she was doing to Jack - “

“And you wondered why I didn’t want to eat her turkish delights! She had you guys running around with sack lunches like fricken four year-olds, all dopey smiles and rice krispy treats. I mean, I can’t believe you even knew how to spell ‘happy birthday’ all on your own and didn’t pull a Hagrid with how high you were flying on her nymph edibles!” You throw your hands up, nearly throwing your slice of birthday cake right off the plate, as Sam laughs.

“And you,” you point to him, “Mjolnir! Where did she pull that from? You weren’t thrown off with that? And don’t think I am letting you live down that sweater vest or birthday tiara. If all it took to make you guys so docile were a few parties and home-cooked meals and giving in to some praise kinks you seem to hae, then someone would have locked you both down already, it’s not like they haven’t tried. I cringed, you guys, cringed. My shoulders are still sore from it.  In fact, I think you guys really owe me for having to put up with watching all that crap go down. For being so right, right from the start.”

They both roll their eyes, Jack for his part just sits and smiles while eating his own birthday cake. Dean flicks his fingers in a ‘bring it on’ motion while pursing his lips in displeasure.

“I want a party. With drinks and store-bought cake with that really good frosting, and a banner that says ‘you were so right and we were so stupid and we’re sorry and we will do better next tim-’”

“Alright, Veruca we get it,” Dean groans.

“Just do better, and don’t forget my golden goose,” you smirk.

[aww-writing-no]

Fae: 

They were on a hunt in Midgard when the young man ran across their path in the snow. He had one of those new fire sticks - a rifle, he later called it - slung across his back and completely obliterated the tracks they were following as he dashed through the woods.

“Mortal cur!” Natasha shouted, setting a bush on fire with a spark of lightning. “May maggots rot your eyes and worms devour your body alive! I will have you as bait for interrupting our hunt!”

“Harsh, Nat,” Clint said with a laugh that echoed unnaturally through the forest. “We’ll catch the scent again, no need to set this whole place ablaze.” He let loose an arrow that landed in the bush, encasing it in a thick sheet of ice.

She hissed at him, pupils shifting as her form wavered in anger. She snapped her fingers, sparks flying, and the young man appeared before them, a shocked expression on his face.

“What evil has Hydra wrought now?” he whispered as if talking to himself.

“Silence, mortal fool,” Natasha commanded as Clint wondered why the man spoke of water serpents. Had he taken the wrong form again?

Coulson slid off his mount and circled the young man while Clint looked down to check his form. No, he was definitely human right now. Maybe the guy was hallucinating? There were some plants that did weird things to moral minds.

“What is your name?” Coulson asked the young man, trailing a finger across his chest.

The man tried to flinch away, but Nat’s spell held him fast. “Bucky,” he growled, low and angry like a frightened bird trying to fluff itself up to seem more intimidating. As if they could ever be intimidated by a mortal.

Clint cocked his head. “That’s not your real name,” he said after a moment.

Birds scattered from the trees, startled into flight by the slap Natasha laid across his face. Bucky’s cheek began to redden, but he met her eyes in defiance.

Coulson let out a peal of laughter. “Brave young fool,” he said, flicking a piece of stray grass off his sleeve idly.

Natasha lifted a hand to slap him again, but seemed to reconsider as she dropped it a moment later. “He interrupted our hunt,” she said, touching a finger to his forehead and releasing him from the spell. “Let him BE our hunt.”

“Ooo, this should be fun,” Colson said as Bucky regarded them each in turn.

“Go on, then,” Clint said with a shooing motion. “We’ve got your scent. We’ll see you soon.”

*

When they caught up to him again, Bucky was lying bleeding in the snow. It seemed he’d fallen off one of those coal-fueled iron monstrosities the humans liked to ride in. Clint suspected he had eaten one of those plants that did strange things to mortals, because he wasn’t acting like any of the other humans they’d ever met.

He was interesting.

Coulson stood over him, sapphire-tipped spear in hand. “Shall we put it out of its misery?” he asked, twirling the weapon idly. “It won’t last long in this state.”

Natasha tossed a ball of lightning from hand to hand, looking disappointed. “I wanted to eat its heart,” she sighed, “but there’s no sport in this.”

Clint squatted in the snow, brushing the hair off his face and considering. “I think I like it,” he said as he stood, whipping off his purple cape and leaning back down to tuck it around the injured man. The man shivered as Clint stood, picking him up with ease.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” the man said weakly, voice barely audible, “Sergeant, United States Army.”

Clint’s eyes widened in surprise and he slowly turned his head to see if his companions had heard. Natasha and Coulson seemed to be arguing amongst themselves, and gave no indication that they’d heard Bucky give Clint his real name.

“James Buchanan Barnes, Sergeant, United States Army,” he repeated, even quieter but with more desperation. It sounded as if he was trying to cling to life through the power of his identity. Did he know the gift he’d given Clint?

“Shh, I know,” Clint said soothingly before turning back to his companions. “He’s pretty. I’m keeping him,” he told them.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You may be easily distracted by a pretty human, but I’m going to continue the hunt.”

Clint shrugged, an awkward maneuver with Bucky in his arms. That suited him fine; he wanted Bucky all to himself.

“I’ll stay with her,” Coulson said.

Clint nodded. “Sounds good,” he told them, air going thick and misty as he brought himself and Bucky back to Underhill. “Welcome home, James,” he murmured to the man in his arms.

*

“You’re awake!” Clint exclaimed, delighted to see his Bucky conscious for the first time in days. The healers had spent ages fussing over him, and then he’d developed something called a fever, and then the healers had spent even more time fussing over him, and now he was finally awake.

Bucky jerked his head sharply, taking in the room. “Where am I?” he asked, eyes lingering on the door and windows before focusing on Clint.

“You’re in Underhill, of course!” he told him, flitting about the room to draw open the curtains.

Bucky’s eyes flicked back to the door. “When can I leave?”

“Oh James,” Clint said, twisting his hand in a complicated gesture, “you don’t want to leave. You want to stay here with me.”

Bucky’s eyes took on a glassy sheen. “I want to stay here with you,” he repeated.

Clint clapped his hands in delight. His magic wasn’t as strong as Natasha’s, but it still worked in a pinch. He wasn’t going to risk asking Natasha to do this spell because Bucky was just too pretty to share. They were going to have so much fun together.

“What happened to my arm?” Bucky asked, lifting a hand that glinted silver, reflecting the sunlight coming through the windows.

“Oh that,” Clint said, waving off Bucky’s concerns, “the healers couldn’t save your arm so they gave you a new one. Do you like it? I thought it should be gold and purple, but they’re so prim and proper over there. They threatened to make it out of iron if I didn’t stop bothering them, so I hope the traditional silver is okay.”

“The traditional silver is okay,” Bucky told him, blinking placidly.

“Perfect, perfect,” Clint said, grabbing Bucky’s hands and pulling him out of bed. “Come with me, we’ve got to get you dressed. I think you’d look delightful in blue, what do you think?”

Bucky took a few stumbling steps before Clint reached over to grab him around the waist. “I would look delightful in blue,” he said, holding on to Clint’s shoulder for support.

“Oh good,” he replied, unable to resist planting a kiss on Bucky’s cheek. “We’re going to have such fun, you and I.”

[lostinfantasies38]

Ten Favorite Dialogues from 2020

I picked 10 dialogue exchanges that I loved from the stories I posted this year. A few of them are from the same stories, since I spent a good chunk of the year working on long fics instead of one shots or shorter stories. Under the cut bc they are lengthy.

I also realized that most of my zingers tend to be in my descriptions and don’t always make it into my character’s dialogue. I might have to change that. 

In no particular order:

1.

Dorian chuckled. “Honestly, you two are disgraceful. You can’t come to a club looking like sex on legs when you aren’t single. You’re going to give people a heart attack.”

“Jealous, Dorian?” Alistair needled.

“Insanely,” he replied smoothly. “Aside from myself and Zevran,”—he saluted the elf who shot him a saucy wink—“you’re the most attractive men here. And to add insult to injury, you’re together,” he sighed dramatically.

Accidental Alliance, a oneshot modern Cullistair AU 

2. 

“Step two of the pie liberation was to avoid suspicion of the adults.” Evan giggled at Connor’s phrasing and thought he heard Alex snort in amusement, too. “Zoe’s job was to act as a distraction, which wasn’t hard to accomplish because Cynthia decked her out in this frilly monstrosity that every woman within a five-mile radius oohed and aahed over. She fucking hated it, of course, but it worked in our favor for The Plan. And yes, those are honest to God capitals, babe. Think Mission Impossible: Thanksgiving 2010.”

“Alternate title: Pie Larceny,” Evan quipped, overjoyed by Connor’s rich laughter. Alex definitely chuckled at that.

“Yes! Oh my God, that’s amazing. I’m totally renaming it Pie Larceny.”

Save Me From Myself - part 3 of my DEH series, Connor Murphy/Evan Hansen

3.

“It makes me want to wrap you in blankets and bubble wrap and smother you with attention until you’re sick of looking at me, though.”

A broken laugh tumbled out of Evan’s mouth. “Well, there’s a mental picture. What are you gonna do? Roll me down the street?”

“I’m working out the logistics, but rolling you around does sound kinda fun,” Connor teased.

Snorting, Evan retorted, “I mean, you do have practice rolling joints. Guess a bundled up boyfriend isn’t much difference.”

Connor’s borderline hysterical laughter almost drowned out Evan’s airy chuckles. “Jesus Christ, Evan,” he wheezed, shakily wiping away tears. 

Save Me From Myself - part 3 of my DEH series, Connor Murphy/Evan Hansen 

4.

Returning his head to the shadows, he hissed, “Sister Agnes is milling around. I need a distraction so I can reach our room.”

Kai grinned and pulled a dehydrated pepper from his pocket. “Down the hatch.”

Gavin stopped him with a concern expression. “Are you sure about this?”

He snorted softly. “Please, I grew up eating these. My mum sends them because she knows I love them. They’re like candy. I’ll be shitting fire for a week, but they don’t hurt my mouth. I’ll burn hot and sweat like crazy though. Trust me, it’ll work.”

The redhead arched an eyebrow. “So you carry them in your pocket at all times?”

“No,” Kai answered irritably. “That’s why I needed Easton earlier. To act as a distraction for me so I could get it out of my room.”

Gavin sighed. “If you’re sure. I mean, we could brawl in the hallway, that would work, too.”

Alistair glanced around the corner. “Hurry up and choose. I’m not waiting forever.” Kai smirked and popped the pepper in his mouth.

“Well, that decides it,” Gavin groaned. Alistair tried not to laugh as over the course of a few minutes, Kai’s face visibly flushed in response to the spicy heat and sweat pooled under his hair, running in rivulets across his face.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Like you’ve got the sweat,” Gavin replied sardonically.

“Perfect,” he retorted. “Right, good luck, Alistair. If I fail to distract everyone, Gavin’s got you covered.”

Find Me Well Within Your Grace - young Cullistair prequel fic - excerpt from Ch 11 featuring a few of my OCs and Alistair 

5.

Wrapping his arms around her as she hummed at the stove, he said, “Sirra and Alistair either just left my apartment or she only now deigned to tell me they’re gone.”

Eowyn grinned wickedly at him, checking the clock on the dining room wall. “My, my! Four hours later! Scandalous.”

“I wish you could have seen them. The magnetism! It was instant.”

She giggled. “I saw the photos. That’s more of Alistair’s almost-O face than I ever want to see again, thanks very much.”

He snorted. “Fair enough.” After a pause, Zevran chuckled, “I give them a month.”

Rounding on him in horror, Eowyn stared at him with wide mossy eyes. “You just said they were perfect together! Do you think we made a mistake?”

“No, amore mio. I mean, I give them a month before they elope. I might have been party to their engagement shoot today.”

She blinked slowly as the giggles built until she was clutching the kitchen counter in a fit of uncontrolled mirth. “Okay, that may be accurate knowing Alistair!”

“I’m thinking of changing my business cards. Should I add ‘Matchmaker Extraordinaire’ or ‘Signor Soulmate’?” he asked cheekily.

Shot In The Dark - Sirra Brosca/Alistair modern AU oneshot [dialogue shown is between Zevran/OC]

6.

Cullen grinned with him. “Me either. Maybe we can improve your chess skills enough for you to graduate from mediocre.”

“Oh, ha ha. You and the others can have fun with that, thanks very much. Here I was hoping we could spend more time in bed,” he teased, sliding a hand into his curls.

Rolling his eyes playfully, the blonde retorted, “Of course, count on you to think how often we can sleep together instead of improving our skills.”

“That is how we improve our skills.”

“Training skills, you fiend.”

Heaving a melodramatic sigh, Alistair quipped, “Well, one of us has to be the boring one in the relationship. Glad it’s not me.” Cullen elbowed him gently in the ribs, chuckling along with his lover’s bright laughter.

Find Me Well Within Your Grace - young Cullistair prequel fic, excerpt from Ch 12 

7.

“You’re not worthless,” Alistair whispered. The breath she’d been holding passed her lips with a tiny mewl of surprise. Still unable to look at one other, Alistair kept his hand on her wrist and she resisted the urge to scoot further away.

Sirra murmured, “You don’t know me, Alistair. You can’t say that.”

“I can,” he insisted firmly, his fingers pressing just a bit harder on her flesh. “It doesn’t matter who you were. When you join the Grey Wardens, all that matters is who you are. I may not know who you used to be in Orzammar, but I have a pretty good idea who you are in the sun.”

Sun Touched - excerpt from Ch 4

8.

“I’m sorry, Alistair, I wanted to surprise you. Most dwarves in Orzammar, caste and casteless alike, have genital piercings. It’s cultural and unrelated to murder.”

His eyebrows climbed into his hair. “Even the men? How in the Maker’s name does that work?” Sirra opened her mouth to explain, but he hastily held up a hand and shivered. “Rhetorical question. Please do not answer that.”  

Sun Touched - excerpt from Ch 14

9.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, gracing him with a watery smile. “If I had known you were up here, I would have left Orzammar years ago and tracked you down,” Sirra mused, only half joking. 

“Oh, really?” he quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “I can just imagine you sneaking into the droll monastery and breaking me out. I would have assumed you were a figment of my imagination, a desire demon, or Maker-sent. Regardless, I doubt I could have resisted the mischievous glint in your eyes as you crept in to find me in my smalls, surrounded by thirty other recruits, and told me to run away with you.” 

Laughing, Sirra raked her short nails down his toned chest. “A naked teenage version of you? I would have taken you on the spot, letting the recruits feast their eyes on us, before dashing out the front door with your bare ass in tow.” 

He closed his eyes with a lusty moan, and swallowed hard, his voice strained when he replied. “Definitely Maker-sent then. To think, we could have been on the lam for the last few years, making mad love wherever we went.” 

Sighing melodramatically, Alistair smirked and playfully bopped the tip of her nose with his. “Ah, well, at least I have you now and that’s all that matters.”

Sun Touched - excerpt from Ch 17

10.

“Stop it,” Morrigan mumbled irritably.

Alistair feigned innocence. “Stop what? I’m sitting here like a good patient. I wasn’t even talking until right now.”

Yellow eyes bored into hazel as the subtle light faded around them, his shoulder apparently healed. “You know very well what. Stop staring at my hands. ‘Tis most distracting.”

“And here I thought it was my hands distracting you during the fight,” he smirked. “Not where my eyes happened to land. How could you have known that I might have been paying attention, if you weren’t observing me, too, hmm?”

Scoffing, Morrigan took a large step back and crossed her arms haughtily over her chest. “You are insufferable.”

Sheathing his sword, Alistair shrugged with affected boredom. “I may be insufferable, Morrigan, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.” 

Snagging his shield from where it fell on the ground, he slung it over his back and murmured for her ears alone. “Besides, for a cranky witch who grew up in a swamp, they’re surprisingly soft and gentle… when they want to be, that is.” 

You Give Me That Lovin’ Feelin’ - ch 2. Part 1 of 3 of Morristair written for @scharoux 14 Days of DA Lovers 

[gumnut-logic]

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[punkscowardschampions]

Edie & Liam

aleeunayzhun: anyone else think the ‘monster’ addition was totally unnecessary and has taken away from what was a mildly intriguing ARG concept beforehand?

aleeunayzhun: 🙄 back on the trail for a new rabbithole to fall down

level26: Yeah, axed it for me

aleeunayzhun: the paranormal route can be alright if it’s done right but usually it ain’t and then it’s a cop-out, PM definitely didn’t think where they were going with this

aleeunayzhun: the ones that rely on the real world but twist it are always scarier to me, no one ever has the balls to stick with it, to not throw in some bullshit ghost jumpscares to get the idiots with

level26: creepypasta is where it ends up with barely no exceptions

aleeunayzhun: mhmm

aleeunayzhun: and no one has shanked their mate over anything on there in time

level26: got a few I’ll volunteer if the next 🐇 is more of this or promo again

aleeunayzhun: If one more shitty band thinks throwing out some binary or morse code makes them any less shit, I’ll join you

level26: dednah tfel neve t'nia ylbaborp yeht

aleeunayzhun: imij erew yeht hsiw yeht

level26: 👅💔🍆💔🎸💔

aleeunayzhun: 💔 they reckon hot groupies hang about on reddit

level26: trolls are their groupies, they can only be fuelled by edgy r/hate 🤘

aleeunayzhun: awh, r/hate is only a degree away from r/love after-all

level26: just like that, a plotline that’d be less crap than [whatever this ARG we’re slagging off is called]

aleeunayzhun: not gonna start my annoying beg promo in here quite yet but how hard was that, really

level26: us both being spam bots is still a better twist than the monster did it

aleeunayzhun: Привет, дорогая, хочешь увидеть мои сексуальные фотки? Hажмите ссылку СЕЙЧАС! [‘Hello dear, do you want to see my sexy pictures? Click the link NOW!’ And a link to god knows what lmao]

level26: NO soundcloud rapper link?! 💀 what an r/cockblock

aleeunayzhun: how’d you guess 😏

level26: my paranormal powers kicked in, clicking that link must’ve leveled me up

aleeunayzhun: advert for communism? 🤔🤫

level26: find me and my sick beats on r/motherrussia

aleeunayzhun: MK Ultra is definitely taken by about 1000 other shit DJs

aleeunayzhun: and is the poorly executed plot of several other ARGs I’ve also given up on

level26: KM Extra is my personal fave shit DJ, really doing something

aleeunayzhun: the fact I genuinely know who that is 😷😷

level26: I noclipped into his set at [somewhere she would have heard of even if she’s not been] talk about an eldritch location

aleeunayzhun: you must’ve felt like the only player in a crowd of NPCs 🧟‍♀️🧠💀🧟‍♂

level26: close enough to the review I would’ve left

aleeunayzhun: I’ll leave it

aleeunayzhun: I know the coordinates

level26: I’ll 👀 out for it

level26: you on moscow standard time or one of the other 10?

aleeunayzhun: I’m the Russian spy, I hack you, comrade

level26: ❤️ tôi cũng cam kết với chính nghĩa cộng sản ❤️ [with some link to the Communist Party of Vietnam because we’re saying we’re as committed to communism]

aleeunayzhun: [links to the Communist Party of Ireland to be like obvs we have both worked out we’re actually from here

level26: cracked the code, like, full props to KM Extra

aleeunayzhun: Only in Dubo would that shit fly

level26: they’d eat his head off outside the pale, yeah, galway’d be having none of it

aleeunayzhun: what they got but a bunch of rocks though

level26: easy pick for the murder weapon

aleeunayzhun: you’d never get far enough in the guinness factory to drown someone in a vat 💔

level26: could do if you got a job as manager and closed for essential maintenance

aleeunayzhun: 💡

aleeunayzhun: won’t do no harm to the taste

level26: iron boost if he’s bleeding heavily when he goes in

aleeunayzhun: delicious and nutritious

level26: ARG coming soon from guinness

aleeunayzhun: bastards better give credit

level26: they can have it, we’re not short of ideas

aleeunayzhun: and you ain’t heard nothing yet

aleeunayzhun: not making it that easy for the wannabe PMs with none of their own

aleeunayzhun: 🔐the real ones

level26: fair play, given enough freebies out in this thread

aleeunayzhun: 🤐

aleeunayzhun: [later on though definitely some way to contact her privately but in a way that you’ve got to work it out of course]

level26: [at least then we can switch to y’all’s names ‘cause I can’t think of a username for the life of me lol]

Edie: [You can add it later and change it, it’s fine lol]

Liam: 🔓

Edie: 1 🔑 for 1 💎

Edie: Suitably impressed

Liam: if I knew anywhere that loaded a 💎 into the gun I’d be off but what’s impressive about a swollen and green ear

Edie: Impressive, no; but good footage for the game? Absolutely

Liam: I’d do it here to have time to mess about with all the lighting and angles

Edie: you’re 🎥

Edie: not enough have actual artistic merit so fair play

Liam: but thinking about it, recording the conveyor belt of a trainee stabbing holes in screaming babies ears all day could have some merit to it, maybe I should get myself up

Edie: you can buy anything and everything from bezos

Edie: live your dreams

Liam: putting my dreams on tape would be worse than the monster reveal

Liam: cheapest jumpscares and effects

Edie: not to mention outing yourself to the whole thread, not just me

Liam: how many teachers would crawl out the woodwork if there was a mass reveal

Edie: to offer you the school’s stellar mental health services

Edie: the one nurse phoning it in

Liam: find my dad lurking on the thread too, that’d be a trip

Edie: unexpectedly wholesome

Edie: I’ll start hiding caches where my dad hides his stashes

Edie: unintentional rhyme

Liam: bars 🎼

Edie: @ KM Extra

Liam: Fachtna to his ma who thinks he’s a saint

Edie: Oof

Edie: ARG concept no. ? the horror of the Irish language

Liam: my ma would be 😱 if I went and hugged her for not doing me that wrong

Edie: not the audience we aim to 😱 really

Liam: too easy

Edie: almost as easy as your name to spell and say

Edie: you even from here 👽

Liam: wouldn’t take enough working out to set you as a test, records are basically lying about

Edie: nothing relating to school is a challenge

Liam: just getting that nurse to give a shit

Edie: if she reckons she’s 👀 it all…

Liam: front row of our intended audience

Edie: splash zone

Liam: she’s never off her phone, spy like you won’t have no problem hacking it

Edie: her nudes = actual monstrosity

Liam: dunno what Mr Doyle sees in her

Edie: yeah, he’s such a looker himself, like

Liam: his wife used to be pretty fit

Edie: don’t matter when she explains how and why people cheat

Edie: psychobabble gets ‘em off every time

Liam: if they taught psychology nobody’d be off each other or learning anything then

Edie: sounds like any other standard schoolday

Liam: that's what they’re getting up to in your class, is it

Edie: as cliche as the monster, yeah

Liam: 🔥🏫

Edie: hear hear

Edie: got to make the endless fire drills worth it one day

Liam: can’t miss me standing in line or not

Edie: then I won’t

Liam: next false alarm I pull

Edie: + 💎

Liam: + 👀

Liam: dont have to hate every cliche

Edie: not the good ones

Edie: all about how you use or misuse them

Liam: can you overuse eye contact

Edie: I can

Liam: I can make a kubrick stare work however many takes you wanna do

Edie: you don’t think I’m a one-take 🌟

Liam: I’ve not shot you

Edie: 🤯🔫

Liam: I’m not a one-take 📷📹

Edie: is that a brag for not suffering from premature ejaculation?

Liam: do you need that reassurance

Edie: I don’t know

Liam: I’ll think about other unsexy shit if your eyes start getting to me too much

Edie: Ha, yeah right

Edie: just don’t think about the 🔥

Liam: 🚒 buzzkill

Edie: 🚓 cockblock

Liam: 🚑 scene stealers

Edie: 🛸 out of here

Liam: before you can get stuck there as a 👻

Edie: Purgatory is preferable to that place forever

Liam: stay alive and it’s simple to get out of 🏫

Edie: I’ll leave my bag behind

Edie: 1st rule and only, really

Liam: don’t really need a pile of textbooks

Edie: I doubt that’s what you carry

Edie: I know I don’t

Liam: I can get more of what I do and I bet you could too

Edie: Bars

Liam: 😏

Edie: You’ve promo’d him a lot if you ain’t him

Edie: KM, like

Edie: bit sus

Liam: you said you know who he is, you know I ain’t

Liam: maybe I love him or some gay shit

Edie: none of his tracks sound like love songs

Liam: guess he don’t love me back

Edie: Oh honey

Edie: lock him in when you set the fire

Liam: he can keep spitting out those fuck yous til the end

Edie: dedication ✊

Liam: and +++ for morale

Edie: what a lad

Liam: love triangle is a cliche too far, take a deep breath or something

Edie: bit possessive

Liam: directors are dicks

Edie: and the heartbroken

Liam: yeah, couldn’t be kind to you if I wanted

Edie: I’ll survive

Edie: you’ve given me the heads up, I’ll give you the 👀

Liam: respect killing me with your 👀 and taking him for yourself

Edie: who could blame me

Liam: my ma as I’m dead, like

Edie: true

Edie: i’ll avoid her at the tescos

Liam: 🛒 dash

Edie: got a selection of my own

Edie: [picture because the random crap you would have in the barns lmao]

Liam: [a picture of one he stole at some point that’s on fire or been blown up or whatever]

Edie: 👏

Edie: what else can we 💥

Liam: got any barns you don’t use

Liam: or 🚜 stuff

Edie: loads

Edie: if you’re lucky, I’ll leave another 🔑

Liam: got another ear to put a 💎 in, luck’s gonna run out beyond it

Edie: sounds like some gay shit, you should

Liam: 👌

Liam: [pics when we’ve done this because of course we have, casually raiding either your mother or sister’s jewellery stashes here like]

Edie: Oh

Edie: actually looks kinda sick

Edie: you’re welcome then

Liam: I’ll send the footage when I’ve edited it

Edie: I look forward to it

Edie: I can’t give you any clues

Liam: what makes you think I need em

Edie: [idk how to differentiate but clearly the clue to where you live needs to be much harder to find and then decode lmao]

Liam: [awkward when he blatantly already knows where you live]

Edie: [do not even need to do the work, whoops]

Liam: [convincingly pretend you are though please]

Edie: [thank god he’s not a murderer even if he is a stalker, just giving out this info willynilly]

Liam: [not your stalker, it’s FINE]

Edie: [oh dear oh dear]

Edie: I’ll know when you work it out

Liam: yeah, I’ll show up 📷📹🌾

Liam: or send a 📦💣 if you wanna take things slow

Edie: you decide

Edie: I’ll shake all the packages extra hard

Liam: cancel the real 🐇 I thought about

Edie: animal cruelty is lamer than bed wetting

Liam: never even tipped a 🐄

Edie: they’ll appreciate it

Edie: anyway, if you did, punishment is letting them kick you in the face so you lose in the end

Liam: head injury’s a win if I get caught for the 🔥🏫 or being seen staring in your window

Edie: 😍🤤 just serial killer things

Liam: pretend I didn’t say KM’s gonna be my 1st victim

Edie: I’ll never feel special otherwise

Liam: you don’t feel special knowing I cracked your code

Edie: if anything, it makes you look smart and me not smart enough

Liam: you’re smart enough that I wanted to

Edie: I’m not going to ruin it with a cliche jumpscare now

Liam: me either, you’re smart enough too to see me coming

Edie: and you’re tall, so I hear

Liam: dunno where from, my dad’s not

Edie: he’s definitely your dad?

Edie: I may as well accuse your ma because I’m already avoiding her for the whole killing you thing

Liam: don't act like it which probably means he is

Edie: ha, real talk

Edie: I think you might be taller than mine

Edie: he’s 6’2

Liam: ha, I am

Edie: you’re the tallest person in school, possibly town

Edie: definite 👽

Liam: taking their time parking the ufo and picking me up, typical dad

Edie: did they forget ET or leave him here on purpose

Edie: he was fucking annoying

Liam: if I looked that much like a ballsack I’d understand

Edie: 😂

Edie: least you’d get to get fucked up with baby Drew Barrymore

Liam: baileys on cereal does taste sick, always down for that

Edie: yum

Edie: what do your fingers look like

Liam: [a video of his hands from lots of angles like hello]

Edie: hot

Edie: you can call me Elliot

Liam: or just call you instead of home

Edie: 😎 so smooth

Liam: what’s my ma gonna say, get back, talking to you is smarter

Edie: I’ve got time to set up the voice distorter so you’re not disappointed by the lack of crEEEEeeeEPpPPpyyyyYy vibes

Liam: and I’ll have loads of time to hear how you sound without it when I stake your house out

Edie: I’ll be sure to be loud

Edie: and not chat total inane shit with my family

Liam: you got your own room

Edie: technically not

Edie: but there are other rooms and places to crash in, when I wanna be alone

Liam: there’s my excuse to zoom in creeEEPpILY close 👀 when you’re not

Edie: very awkward and even ruder if you confused me for my sister

Edie: no one’s done that for ages

Liam: how were they ever doing it

Edie: we’re both the white ones, they just didn’t know which was which

Liam: can’t be a hard code to crack, not gonna be confusing you for anyone

Edie: good

Edie: it was pretty annoying

Edie: and I’m already your second victim as it is

Liam: partner in crime, or groupie to mine if you’re not getting actively involved, but still standing at the end

Edie: hope you’re writing some of these down

Edie: ‘cos I’m not gonna be your groupie

Edie: got my own scores to settle, own havoc to wreak

Liam: don’t need to write down I don’t want you to die, I’ll remember

Edie: it rhymed though

Edie: I’ll steal your lines then

Liam: write as many songs about me as you want, be your groupie til I get 🛸✌️

Edie: [send your music links because you ain’t]

Edie: give me a sec to do yours but pretend any of these are about you

Liam: this is you

Liam: serious

Edie: yeah

Edie: if I was gonna lie I’d have done that a few steps ago

Liam: I’m gonna lie they’re all about me

Edie: that’s what serious meant

Liam: it meant I’m impressed and you’re downplaying how smart you are

Edie: you can be my hypeman and overplay it

Liam: [does by uploading this edited ear piercing escapade with whatever song of hers we like and fits the vibe playing in it, giving her credit because we’re not a heathen and also putting on his stories that he’s listening to these tracks and hyping them how you can]

Edie: [so 😍 over this but trying to be chill somehow and somewhat even though we’re extra af anyway]

Edie: maybe I do wanna be your groupie

Edie: what do you want from me

Edie: like, I owe you and I want to give you something too, ‘cos

Edie: talking to you IS interesting

Edie: and not just because I could be talking to my ma or someone else really boring instead just ‘cos you are

Liam: [for real though her views would definitely go up cos the vibe is he knows loads of people through his sister but also through his weird vids and the raves and stuff he goes to now too so]

Liam: all I want’s to keep talking to you, for as long as you’re into it

Liam: people don’t unless we’re off our faces, like

Edie: my notifications are popping off rn

Edie: I know what you mean though, everyone’s too scared to say or do anything when they don’t have something to blame it on, like being stupid or weird or whatever the fuck actually matters

Edie: more than being bored and alone

Liam: dunno what they’re more scared of, what they wanna ask or how I’m gonna answer, least I know what the topic’ll be

Liam: every convo I have is a loop

Edie: all anyone ever cares about and knows is the headlines

Edie: as if there aren’t countless hours minutes seconds before and after the big events they all 👀 and 👂

Liam: work out sweet for you as a headliner

Edie: Getting them to talk about what I’m doing instead of whatever my parents and the rest of the fucking fam did or do is the goal

Liam: with me hyping you up, no bother, keep knocking out hits and I’ll promo em with no trace of binary or morse code

Edie: and you make films

Edie: I wasn’t sure if you were pissing about at first

Edie: every other person in that thread is an aspiring filmmaker so

Liam: did put me off for a while

Edie: Yours aren’t going to be bad Blair Witch ripoffs though

Edie: I can say that much without seeing

Edie: even the stuff you’ve sent today is dope

Liam: do you wanna see

Edie: yes

Liam: [link her cos I doubt all the weird shit is just there chilling on your insta or whatever]

Edie: [just casually watching all of this nbd]

Liam: siht ekil kool annog weiver ruoy

Liam: или, может быть, это

Edie: hoặc tôi có thể làm như thế này [‘or I could do it like this’]

Edie: si ffuts ruoy kniht i looc woh edih annaw tnod i tub

Liam: ba mhó an spraoi é a cheilt agus a lorg go pearsanta [hide and seek would be more fun in person]

Edie: If you’ve worked out where I live like you say

Edie: be fair and count to 100

Liam: you reckon you made it that easy do you

Liam: be cool if you added some 00s to that and gave me a fair chance

Edie: no, you could still be anyone

Liam: someone to be scared of, yeah I probably am

Edie: Do you want me to be scared of you

Liam: nah

Edie: Good because I’m not and I never promised I was a 🌟 so

Liam: 🤩 with or without promises

Edie: How have I never spoke to you before

Edie: so weird

Liam: I wouldn’t have known what to say to a girl like you

Edie: You seem like you’re coping fine to me

Liam: from behind a keyboard I can cope with anything

Edie: You’re not afraid of me either

Liam: not yet

Edie: What do you think I’m like?

Liam: smart, creative, nice to talk to and look at

Edie: then you’ve got nothing to be afraid of

Liam: I’ve got nothing, that’s bang on

Edie: I’m not trying to take anything from you

Edie: but I could throw those compliments back to you x 10000

Liam: you don’t like possessive, I ain’t gonna tell you what to do

Edie: I didn’t say that

Edie: you could claim better than a soundcloud DJ though

Liam: been waiting to hear that compliment specifically

Edie: 😏

Edie: You look like you’d be a fuckboy

Edie: that’s what I thought

Edie: you’re that good-looking

Liam: if I was the game’d be making you think I wasn’t, which is kinda where we are

Edie: True

Edie: so I’m that dumb or you’re that good, what are we going for?

Liam: you’re smart enough to play dumb, I don’t think I can aim for god tier puppet mastery of anyone’s emotions

Edie: I can see the appeal of that

Edie: closing you eyes to thing you don’t wanna see, to see the things you do

Edie: but mine are wide open

Liam: I ain’t mad, there’d be no appeal to yours being closed, unless you drop bars in your sleep too

Edie: you’re gonna find which window is mine and find out, yeah

Liam: wake you up before you name drop KM as it’s MY thing

Edie: that’s your man, I can respect it

Liam: exclusivity is a + for you then, I’m taking notes

Edie: I don’t really know

Edie: everyone’s lame

Liam: I’ve been there, yeah

Edie: I can’t fake enthusiasm for the sake of it

Liam: it’s a shite idea, doable or not

Edie: I don’t intend to

Edie: 🤞

Liam: can’t think why you’d have to

Edie: I won’t make you promise

Liam: what’ll you make me do

Edie: I want you to show

Edie: and be real and not just go ghost after this

Edie: but I don’t know if you will and I know you might

Liam: be a short afterlife, we don’t get american summers

Edie: we both got the capabilities, but I can promise not to stalk you if you like

Edie: if you want to stick to usernames and anonymity

Liam: not working out where you are to prove I can and a face in the window haunting wouldn’t even impress any dads lurking on the thread

Edie: Alright but I’d be more inclined to keep a secret if you asked opposed to all the dads

Liam: I wouldn’t wanna keep anything we do secret

Edie: Yeah?

Liam: if this is a scam I’m falling for everyone’ll see why and if it’s not I’m gonna document everything

Edie: I won’t ask for your credit card details even once

Edie: This is… different

Edie: isn’t it

Liam: you can have my ma’s, you’re avoiding her and the big tescos

Liam: I don’t know what this is, I wasn’t expecting you at the end of any of those links

Edie: It IS the least she could do

Edie: If I had a guess, you weren’t it

Edie: Even though you mentioned Dubo, it isn’t that small of a town

Liam: ha, how livid you’d be if I was another american coming here for the culture

Edie: not close enough to st patrick’s that I was worried

Liam: how did you feel

Edie: I thought no way it was you at first

Edie: and then I couldn’t believe it was you

Edie: and then that I should’ve known you sooner

Edie: what about you?

Liam: I still can’t believe it’s you, I would’ve tried to chat to you sooner if I knew this is how it’d go

Edie: I’m glad we are now

Edie: and I’ve not fucked it up

Liam: if the small world’s not fucked it up, you won’t

Edie: like you said, be shit if you were in America

Liam: be crap if you were anyone else from school, like you said

Edie: If it was anyone else from school

Edie: this convo would be well over by now

Liam: it’s the longest I’ve had for years

Edie: It’s all so surface level, right

Edie: fuck that

Edie: I wanna know more about you, I don’t care if I shouldn’t just say that

Liam: what do you wanna know

Edie: Hmm

Edie: Do I only get the one question?

Edie: Because I’ll think more carefully if so

Liam: nah, there’s no limit on it

Edie: Cool

Edie: so how was your day, and what were you doing just before you went on the forum?

Liam: [send her a video of some rave or whatever you were at because it’s summer bitches]

Liam: + 3-4 hours sleeping

Edie: Lucky

Edie: where’d you sleep and where’s the weirdest place you’ve got + 3-4 hours sleep before?

Liam: [send her some of the blooper-esque stuff you cut out to make it look more fun than it is, cos we know you’re usually bored]

Liam: home, I can’t 💤 in random xD places but I could call your dad short and maybe have him in a fight

Edie: that’s hot

Edie: he could’ve been there and you coulda tested that theory

Edie: but I wanna be there when you do

Liam: you’d have a shite view from the stage with lights blinding you, can’t let on how talented you are while we’re there

Edie: 😶

Edie: he’s not old so it’s not on a par with animal abuse lameness

Liam: and if I get carried away you can stop me

Edie: can I

Edie: + skill points

Liam: 🎶 works on monsters

Edie: have to find a way to get you home before the 💤 hits

Edie: so cute 🥺

Liam: mine or yours

Edie: 😳

Edie: I’ll protect you while you sleep, see if you can at mine

Liam: I can’t if you’re 👀

Edie: that might be a problem

Liam: how long can you not blink for

Edie: [send a vid of an attempt]

Liam: can I keep this

Edie: ‘course

Edie: use it if you can

Liam: when you write a song about me it’ll need a vid

Edie: I’ve started

Edie: I think by the time you find me, it’ll be done

Liam: people who don’t know you are gonna think I edited your eyes that colour

Edie: hashtag they’re real 😏

Liam: the girl who said she had an operation as a kid’s the real you

Edie: 😂

Edie: they were going rouge and I’ve repressed those memories

Liam: what were you doing before you logged on

Edie: not at a rave, sadly

Edie: I was masterminding a sabotage though, trying to anyway

Liam: don’t leave it there giving me no details

Edie: it isn’t even bad ARG plot worthy

Edie: but my sister has her gross boyfriend over and I need to ruin their fun, obviously, because they are unbearable

Edie: easiest way to do that is make them babysit the twins because there’s nothing fun about 9 year olds

Edie: so I convinced ma to go out on a date, but I still need to get my brother out the way and he’s a massive nerd who never goes anywhere so I’m stumped

Liam: we could have fun with it, gotta be a route to go down that’s not just ripping off the shining again

Liam: a nerd how, he’s on mastermind and his subject is _

Edie: 🪓 is just a prop, honest

Edie: bones, not in a cool way

Edie: History, all that old shit

Liam: [obviously find some kind of obscure af exhibit or book signing or something that he’d potentially be interested in and send her the deets because sleuthing is what you do boy]

Edie: OMG but genuinely

Edie: you are too good at this, I’ll have to keep you around

Liam: stashed with the 🪓

Edie: if you fit

Edie: He’ll actually go to this, for sure

Edie: 🐓🚫

Liam: keep what you figure’s useful and chop off the rest 🧩🧟

Edie: 😋

Edie: what an offer

Edie: and I do need to keep busy so I can’t be asked to step in

Edie: not that I’d say yes

Liam: busy like with a 🧭

Edie: go on

Liam: [god knows what scavenger hunt he’s sending you on gal that he apparently just has ready at the drop of a hat but here we are]

Edie: [live your best nerd lives]

Liam: [really hope these clues aren’t something he was gonna torment your sister with, because no thank you]

Edie: [lmao i hope it wouldn’t translate so easy ‘cos imagine]

Liam: [it definitely wouldn’t but a hardcore blag happening here regardless, I like to think you were actually coming up with this for her while you were pretending to work out her address that you already know]

Edie: [that’s a solid shout ‘cos yeah that is a thing lol]

Edie: [definitely sending you the demo of this song at the end as a prize because we’re beyond 😍 now]

Liam: [likewise even though he’s trying to downplay how 😍 he is to himself rn because it’s so weird that she’s Rio’s sister and that he actually also likes her in her own right so we’re fully !?]

Liam: [nevertheless trying to think of something creepy but cool he could send to her house so she knows he knows where it is and that we think this demo is amazing obviously, maybe it’s lots of other people’s shit musical endeavours like KM that we’ve set on fire and otherwise destroyed in creative ways like you’ve slayed the competition gal since cds and tapes are back baby idk]

Edie: [I wonder if I can find something like that to post hmm to pinterest I go]

Liam: [love the visual of you just sneakily dropping off a massive box of melted plastic without anyone seeing you]

Edie: [you’re clearly good lmao, I was thinking we could do a convo with Billie between this and the next one though]

Liam: [good idea boo, I’m up for that]