#like yeah i guess it makes sense that with a full body transplant

[lord-squiggletits]

That scene where Megatron (in his pre-MTMTE bimboification body) is holding his own stealth bomber body in his arms does things to me, it’s so fucked up man.

[some-pers0n]

Euthanasia

Fandom: TF2

Characters: Medic, Engineer

CW: Major character death

Summary: Ludwig didn't need to worry about death. It was so far away that he couldn't care about feeling the cold embrace of finality. Which was why Dell telling him that he was dying threw him so off guard.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I'm sad now.

Right off the bat, this oneshot is inspired by one of @archiarthur's comics (this one) and it has rotted my mind entirely. I saw that they were okay with fanfic being made of their art (or that they'd be flattered about it) and I just...yeah. I'm very awkward and I'm sorry if I did something wrong I– uh... Here!! Old man yaoi!!

Death was a concept that Ludwig didn't care to think about. Despite being surrounded by death from his time as both a doctor and mercenary, the concept was too abstract for his liking. The idea that a being full of memories, thoughts, and general life could be wiped out in an instant was...uncanny to sum up in a single word. He grew used to the concept but never did that underlying sense of dread and existential horror truly disappear. 

He never gave too much credence to the thought of himself dying, at least permanently. He flirted with hell enough. If any of his organs were to start shutting down he'd merely replace them. He was a healthy enough man and had grafted enough souls in him to live more lifetimes than anybody needed to.

Ludwig didn't need to worry about death. It was so far away that he couldn't care about feeling the cold embrace of finality.

Which was why Dell telling him that he was dying threw him so off guard.

"You don't..." he lightly chuckled. "No, no. You're joking again, aren't you? Pulling my leg?"

Dell snickered. "Wish I was. But, I can feel it. Somethin's up. Don't know what. I just know my body's...breaking down. It's time."

"That can't be right. No, I– we did everything right. Got married, settled, been together for decades now... You can't go. Not after everything we've done."

"Life works that way, I guess. Everything's right and nice for a good couple of years before it all starts falling apart." Dell gave a lighthearted shrug.

"You're only in your eighties."

"Ain't that when most people start dying off though?" Dell cracked a smile. "It's sooner or later this was gonna happen."

Ludwig could only stare in disbelief. Part of him clung to the idea that this was some elaborate joke. Perhaps it was his mind slipping away and making him have vivid nightmares. Anything other than to face reality. To continue believing there would be another day he could spend with his love.

But, this was real. This old, aging man before him, his husband, was dying.

He couldn't help but look longingly at him. Only now did it settle in how much he's aged. He was seated in a wooden rocking chair, a patterned blanket covering his legs. He'd ditched the overalls a long while ago, now opting for cozy and warm cotton sweaters. His eyes were cloudy and he was wearing a pair of square glasses. His hair was little more than a couple of grey wisps. His beard was long and silvery. Despite it all, that look of kindness and passion remained within him.

Ludwig couldn't lose that. Not now, not never.

"I could fix whatever issue it is though!" he said. "It won't take too long. I haven't had a proper transplant in a while,  but I'm fairly certain that my skills–"

"That won't be necessary, doc," Dell replied. "I'm fine with dying."

Ludwig paused. "You're what?"

"I'm alright with dying. That's what I said, right?"

"But it's death. You'll be gone. I don't have access to all of my supplies and materials that are needed to revive a man-" He was cut off by Dell's wheezy laughter.

"Still don't get it?" he spoke through the snickers. "I'm good with passing. Forever. Finally being put to rest. No transplants. No resurrection. Just me going to the grave."

Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows. "No, no, no, that isn't right. You aren't supposed to go. Not now. Not ever. You're here, with me. You're always there."

"I mean, someday I'll hafta go, won't I?"

"But that's not– no!" Ludwig stood up. "You don't have to go. I– I can fix this. You aren't going to die. You won't. Don't you dare die on me. Ever." He crouched to Dell's level, resting his hands against his face. A myriad of emotions swirled within him. Denial, sadness, grief, false hope. He didn't even notice when tears began to stream down his face.

Dell sighed, his smile unwavering. "I know it's a lot. I'm sorry. But, it's what's gonna happen. You can try to swap out as many organs as you can. Replace my lungs. My heart. Hell, maybe you'd find some way to swap my brain out and keep me full here. That may delay the inevitable for a couple more years, but, we both know that my time's up."

"But I could–"

"Shh, it's okay." Dell raised his right hand, his Gunslinger, and brushed away some tears. "I'll have to die like everyone else. This machine, me, it'll fall apart and break eventually. You could try and fix it, keep it standing for as long as possible, but sooner or later it's gonna crumble."

He exhaled. "I know we were supposed to be gods together, but even gods have their time of rest." He grinned warmly.

Ludwig quivered. "...klar. If that's the way you want to go, I suppose that's how it'll go."

Dell yawned. "I know you wanna talk. There's a good chance I won't wake up tomorrow, but I can't stand to be up any longer. Sorry... I would if I could."

"Don't feel sorry! I'm happy enough you're able to tell me this now." He hugged Dell, wrapping his arms around him. "Would you like me to carry you to bed?"

"That'd be nice. Thank you, darlin'."

Ludwig scooped him up, supporting his back in one arm and holding up his legs in the other. He did it slowly and with care to not hurt Dell (although one wrong move and Ludwig very well may blow his back out doing this). His body was lighter than normal, yet still warm and comforting.

Ludwig carried him through the house, eventually ending up in their bedroom. He set him down on their king-sized bed, pulling the blankets over. He slipped his glasses off his face, placing them on the nightstand.

"Gettin' the royal treatment for dying now, aren't I?" he joked. "Though, thanks for doing this, doc. You don't need to."

"For you? I'd do anything. The least I can do is bring you to bed, mein Liebling." He took off his collared shirt and put on a plain white one. "Though, I do have one request."

"Fire away."

"May we...cuddle?"

"Is that even a question?" Dell said. "C'mon."

Ludwig slipped under the covers and rested his head against the pillow. He looked at his husband, a quiet sadness washing over him. Without hesitation, he threw his arms around him, bringing him close.

It was the nearest thing to a perfect moment. Dell was soft and snuggly. His skin was scratchy and rough, but beautifully comforting. He relaxed against him. He listened to the gentle thump of his heart. Life. Something that told him that he was still alive. He clung to that heartbeat, never wanting to lift his head.

Quietly, those tears returned once more. Slipped out of his eyes and raced down his face. His breath shook with anxiety and sadness.

Through it all, he felt Dell pat him on the back. "It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna be okay," he said. "I'm here with you."

"I love you..." Ludwig struggled to say. "I love you so, so much."

"I love you too. More than anything else. Don't forget that, alright?"

Ludwig sighed as he nestled himself closer to Dell. He didn't care if he seemed weak. He loved Dell. More than anybody else. Nowhere had he seen another man who cared about him– who understood him like Dell did. He found the only other man who was like him, and he didn't want to let go. Not yet. Not now.

But, the end has to come at some time, doesn't it? Sooner or later the story has to end. Gods move on and retire. Rest. They've worked hard and long for many years. They deserve to lie down and sleep, even if it was hard to say goodbye.

Ludwig didn't know when he finally dozed off, but it was a dreamless sleep. One moment he was silently sobbing into Dell. The next, the sun was peering through the blinds and his birds were chirping away.

He smacked his lips and rubbed his eyes. He turned over to Dell, seeing him laying on his back. He looked peaceful there. His face was relaxed, with the faint remnants of a smile on it. Deep in sleep.

Or, that's what he thought until he noticed that Dell's chest wasn't moving. It was still. In fact, he wasn't breathing at all.

Ludwig's heart dropped. He knew what happened. He didn't want to believe it.

"No, no..." he muttered. He inched closer, grabbing Dell's hand and holding his head. He was cold. Colder than any other body he'd felt before.

"Wake up," he pleaded, "aufwachen, bitte. Please, Dell... Don't leave me."

No response.

He was gone. There was no denying it. Ludwig couldn't begin to think of some excuse to deny this situation any further. No breathing. No sign that he was still kicking around.

He was dead. His true love passed away while he slept.

The tears returned once more with a vengeance. His breath was jagged and strained. Grief consumed him, sinking into his very soul. He couldn't think of anything else. All he could comprehend was one harrowing truth: his husband was dead.

He rested his head against Dell's chest. The absent heartbeat brought no comfort. Dell was dead. He would never see him alive again.

Death is natural, but that doesn't make the loss of the only one you ever loved any better, does it?

[five-rivers]

Orb/Reanimation

Another part of Doorways!  Link to series here.

.

.

.

“What’s his name again?” asked Danny, picking at the hem of his shirt.  Today had been… stressful, for a number of reasons.  Partially the long drive and the disastrous breakfast stop, but also the fact that they were driving to meet a guy who was possibly:

a)       Vlad Masters version 2.

b)      A horrible hole in reality that would try to kill him.

c)       Possessed, like the Keens.

d)      Using ghost stuff without knowing it was ghost stuff.

e)      Messing around with ghost stuff while knowing it was ghost stuff, but without any of the skill to keep it from messing him up in turn.  

f)        Crazy in some wonderful, unforeseen way.

Or, finally,

g)       Mom and Dad’s one and only normal friend.  

Danny really wasn’t holding for the last one, if he was being honest.  After all, unlike Marianne, this guy had been part of the Paranormal Research Club.  

Okay, maybe there were other, positive, options.  It was completely possible for someone to be weird or crazy and not be evil or even particularly threatening.  Most ghosts were like that, in fact.  

Still.

“Frank Stone,” said Dad, cheerfully.

“If he turns out to be a Dr. Frankenstein type, I quit,” groaned Jazz.  “Just so you know.”

“You won’t quit,” said Danny, with complete confidence.  

“He is a doctor,” said Mom.  “He was studying biology when we met him, for his undergraduate degree.”

“I quit; I’m telling you.”

“If you were really quitting,” reasoned Danny, “you’d just open the door and jump out.”  He was pleased that Jazz was taking her turn as the resident overdramatic teenager.  She carried that burden only rarely, but it did seem like long trips in the GAV really brought it out.

Maybe they made her remember the whole Youngblood thing.  Who knew? Not Danny.  

“I’m not going to jump out of a moving vehicle. That’s more of a ‘you’ thing.”

“I can’t really dispute that,” said Danny, remembering all the times he had, in fact, jumped out of a moving vehicle. “In my defense, I can fly.”

“Why you can fly completely negates that as a defense.”

Danny held up a finger.  “Okay, so, first off, reality is not a moving vehicle.”

“Anything can be a moving vehicle, depending on your reference frame.”

“I agree on the moving part, but I dispute the vehicle part.  Vehicle comes from the Latin vehiculum, which is ‘a means of conveyance.’ Reality is not a means of conveyance. Ergo, it cannot be a vehicle.”

“Not so fast, brother dear.  Words change meaning over time.”

“Yeah, but that’s still what vehicle means,” said Danny.  “Unless you’re doing the medicine definition, anyway.  I think.”

“Reality is a metaphorical vehicle.”

“Well, if it’s metaphorical, it doesn’t matter whether or not it’s moving.  Does it?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“I think this is the place!” exclaimed Dad, pulling into a parking lot.  “Golding City University Medical Research Lab.”

“He doesn’t live here,” said Danny, slowly, “does he?”  They weren’t ambushing this guy at work, were they?  Even if he did turn out to be just as bad as all of Mom and Dad’s other friends, that was kind of mean.  

(Except, the Keens had been acceptable, once they were no longer possessed, and even the ghost possessing them hadn’t been too terrible.)

“He’s in the building behind the lab,” said Mom. “They let the teachers live on-campus, here.  He’s expecting us, anyway.”

Right.  Because they had called ahead, giving warning to their potential enemy.  Curse you, common courtesy and sundry social conventions.

Jazz was glaring at the small name sign on the building, which was just barely visible through the rain.  “Golding City University,” she said, eyes narrowed.  

“Uh, is something wrong?”

“Frankenstein,” she said.  

“Um,” said Danny.  He looked more closely at the name.  “Golding City.  Ingolstadt.” Oh, no.  Now he was glaring at the name, too.  Because Jazz was right, and it would be his luck.  Their parents’ luck.  Whatever.  

“Do you feel anything?” asked Dad.  

“No,” said Danny.

“Well,” said Mom.  “We’ll have to run a bit, try to stay out of the rain.  It’s too bad there isn’t a closer parking lot…”

“I could also just make us all intangible,” said Danny.  

“What?”

“I could make us all intangible.  I do it all the time to miss the rain when no one is looking too closely.”

“Huh,” said Mom.  

“It isn’t as if my powers disappear when I’m not fighting ghosts,” said Danny.  “I get to use them for other things.”

“I know, I know, it just seems… petty.”

“Petty is one of the best words to describe ghosts with,” said Danny.  

.

Frank Stone did not look like a Frankenstein. Not the monster, and not the ‘doctor.’

(Because Victor Frankenstein had not, in fact, become a doctor, had he?)

He was actually pretty average looking.  The same age as Mom and Dad, of course. Brown hair.  Glasses.  Skinny, but not that skinny.  Could Dr. Stone rob a grave?  Probably. But carrying the loot away without some mechanical advantage was probably out.  Unless it was old loot.  Dried out. Maybe just bones.  

Corpses were heavy.  

(No, Danny was not going to elaborate.)

Dr. Stone appeared to be somewhat confused about why Danny and Jazz were there.  Evidently, Mom and Dad had managed to give the man the impression that they wanted to fund his research with the fortune they had inherited from Vlad.

Which, incidentally, had been inherited by Danny, who couldn’t really do much with it until he was twenty-five.  Not that he was particularly keen on funding… Whatever it was that Dr. Stone was researching.  

Maybe that would be different if he could tell what Dr. Stone was talking about.  Danny wasn’t stupid, far from it, and had a good background in any number of esoteric subjects, but, well.  It was hard to rival an adult lifetime of learning and research.  Especially when he didn’t have any context.  

Mom and Dad’s briefing on Dr. Stone had generally focused on what he had been interested in as a member of the Paranormal Research Club, not his true field of study.

“Oh,” said Mom, suddenly, “this is about your organ transplant project, isn’t it?  You really need to provide more context.  When you just jump right in like that, even we’ll get lost!”

Okay.  Danny felt better.  

“Well, yes,” said Dr. Stone.  “I have been working on this off and on since college, you know how it is.  I know you kept up with that portal business!”  He flashed a nervous smile and set his coffee mug down on his coffee table.  It made a soft chinking sound against the glass.  “But the university gave me a grant, Vladco’s been donating some supplies—From their chemical division, mostly—and I’ve been having a lot of success!  I can’t wait to show you.  We’ve actually got a few specimens in near-stasis right now, all from mice.  We’re going to be implanting one tomorrow.  See how it functions.”

“Have you implanted any before?” asked Mom, leaning forward.  

“A few, but, well.  I can’t say they were resounding successes.  The most recent subject only lasted a few days… Although, that is better than the first! We’ve been adjusting some of our ratios.”

“Say, Frank,” said Dad.  “What chemicals are you using for this, anyway?  I know you’re using them in conjunction with low temperatures, but keeping crystals from forming in the flesh—”

“Yes, yes, that’s always been the problem with cryogenics,” agreed Dr. Stone.  Then they dove back into jargon and technical language.  

Danny glanced sideways at Jazz, uneasy.  Chemicals.  From Vladco. Yeah.  Not suspicious at all.  

He leaned over.  “Ten dollars says that he’s using ectoplasm to reanimate dead bodies.”

“I’m not taking that bet.  Do you feel anything weird from him?”  Jazz whispered back.  

“Weird, yes, but…”  Danny bit his lip.  “I’m not sensing any… doors.  Or ghosts.”

“Okay,” said Jazz.  “So, when we do find his mad science lab full of dead body parts, what do we do?”

“Well…  Nothing? As long as they’re legal dead body parts, I guess.  You know, from organ donors, or people who donated their bodies to science.  I mean…”  He shrugged.  “You’ve read Frankenstein, too.  And met Ellie.”

“Hm.  True,” said Jazz.  “I have to check my biases.  I’m still quitting, though.  As soon as we find his Frankenstein stuff.  Just so you know.”

“No, you aren’t.”

Jazz just sighed.  

.

Danny walks silently through the halls of the research facility.  True, Dr. Stone was planning on giving his family a tour of his workspace first thing tomorrow and had implied that other researchers would be doing the same, but Danny believed in being prepared.  

Well.  Sometimes. He was allowed to be inconsistent and contradictory.  Like any teen, he was still learning how to exist.  

Maybe he should stop comparing himself to ‘any teen,’ though.  It was beginning to feel dishonest, even in his own head.  Even though, technically, it was true.  

Anyway.  

This place was kind of creepy.  At least, he presumed a normal person would find it creepy. Too bad he didn’t know any normal people.  Sam would think it was cool.  Tucker would be freaking out because it was a medical research lab.  Ancients, Danny was as bad as his parents.  

It did have a number of features that one would typically only find on the set of a horror movie, however, so he felt fairly confident in his assessment of its creepiness.  Also, he had encountered at least five different crimes against nature and sanity (it took one to know one), and he hadn’t even gotten to Dr. Stone’s lab yet.  

He was impressed.  He hadn’t expected such a high concentration outside of Amity Park or Vlad’s hideouts.  

At the thought of Vlad, Danny drooped. Yeah.  He still wasn’t over the stupid fruitloop.  Still hated the fact that he had died.  

Back to the crimes against nature.  Ectoplasm was definitely a component, if a small one. Hard to get things to glow that precise, reality bending shade of green otherwise.  Also, well.  Danny can sense ectoplasm.

And…  Now he was in a room of jars full of diluted ectoplasm and… He sniffed. Formaldehyde?  He frowned and decided the number, size, and arrangement of jars was suspicious.  He walked around the table.  Yep. That was in the outline of a human body. Yep.  

Honestly, this wasn’t any more alarming than the living mice impaled with various glowing needles, or the disturbingly brown heart beating in a fish tank a few rooms back.  It was, also, significantly less alarming than the prosthetic face (mainly because, dang, that thing looked realistic), the (fresh) skeleton someone had been injecting ectoplasm into (yikes), and the weird flesh… blob… thing that someone had just left out in their workspace.  

Still.  This was another point for the ‘someone is building a Frankenstein’s monster in this building’ theory, and Danny had kind of been hoping that he was wrong.  

He walked out of the room, on alert for random murderous corpse monsters (or sad corpse monsters that needed a shoulder to cry on, a restraining order against their creators, and a loving home).  Or mad scientists.  Because, at this point, he was fairly certain that everyone who worked here was crazy, and not necessarily in the fun way Mom and Dad were.

He was glad they had decided to sleep in the GAV and ignore Dr. Stone’s invitation to stay in his apartment.  

Dr. Stone’s office was just next door.  His lab, just beyond that.  Danny approached cautiously, his ghost half on high alert, and his deeper self stirring uneasily.  

He laid a hand flat against the door, and that stirring became wakefulness.

Crimes against nature.  Hubris.  Pride.

Superbia.  It had to be.

A hole.  A wound.

Well.  This was fast.  Even with the Keens’ list of Paranormal Research Club members they had encountered while possessed, Danny hadn’t expected to find another thing like Gula so quickly.  

He hadn’t wanted to.  Despite his outward pessimism, he had hoped that there weren’t any more.  

After several frozen moments where Danny braced himself for an attack, he realized one wasn’t forthcoming.  The tear beyond the door had not noticed him, was not trying to consume him.  

So, he had a choice.  He could either try to deal with this alone, right now, or he could sneak away and tell his family what he had found.  Both choices had pros and cons.  

Before even a second had passed, Danny was easing away from the door.  He hadn’t quite promised to share if he felt anything strange, if he had detected anything bad, but…  It was a near thing, and he didn’t want to be dishonest with his family after they had been so accepting of all his… Stuff.  

Yeah.  Call it stuff.  Nice and generic.  Covers everything.  

Plus, his encounter with Gula had confirmed that he needed backup.  

He refrained from calling on his powers on the way out.  He didn’t want to draw attention.  The limits of the doors to the place which should not be mentioned were largely unknown to him.

Luckily, the doors weren’t alarmed, and he got back to the GAV without a problem.  He poked Jazz awake first.  

“Hey,” he said, “we’ve got a problem.”

.

“This portal is just… Sitting there,” said Mom.

“Yep.”

“In Frank’s office.”

“Well, I think it might actually be in the lab, but yes.  It’s kind of freaking me out.”

“Is Frank sleeping in his lab?” asked Dad, stroking the stubble on his chin.  

“No, I checked that before I went in,” said Danny. “He’s in his apartment.”

“You just… broke into his apartment?” asked Mom.

Danny shrugged.  “I didn’t break anything,” he said.  “But, I mean, what else was I supposed to do?”

For a moment, it looked like Mom was about to argue or scold him, but she shook her head.  “Alright, then someone else is in his office.”

“Maybe.  I’m not sure if these portals need a person attached or not.  Using person in the very loosest of senses, because…”  He made a gesture he hoped would be interpreted as a soul being forcibly removed from a body without killing the body.  

“You don’t think it’s in the, um,” Jazz also made a vague gesture.  

“You mean the hypothetical Frankenstein’s monster he’s made?  Yeah. I think that’s likely.  Also, judging from the sheer amount of, um, weird stuff in the other labs, I’d say it’s influencing everyone and everything around it, too.”

“Is that a thing it can do?” asked Mom.  

“I mean, I can do that,” said Danny.  He paused.  “’I’ in this case being the portal.  Yeah.  That’s why Amity Park is so…  Amity Park.”

Mom breathed out, slowly.  “Sweetie, trust me on this, Amity Park was strange long before we made the portal.

“Well, yes?” said Danny, not seeing what that had to do with it.  “So?”

“So, that strangeness couldn’t be caused by the portal.”

“Mom.  I’m—It’s a hole in reality.  Do you think it’s going to obey the laws of cause and effect?  You went to Amity Park because it was already a ‘thin spot,’ right?  I was already there.”

Mom looked vaguely ill.  

“Okay,” said Jazz.  “Let’s table that discussion for right now.  What are we going to do about this?  Break in?  Wait for our ‘tour’ tomorrow?”

“I don’t like the idea of waiting for Dr. Stone to give us a tour,” said Danny.  “I don’t want to give them time to prepare for us.”

“He doesn’t know what we’re here for, though,” said Dad.  “Does he?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “I can’t read minds.”

“Yet,” added Jazz.

“Do you think he even knows about the…”  It was Mom’s turn to enter the gesturing game.

“Let’s just call it a hell portal for the sake of communication,” said Danny, despite the fact that the term did not do the actuality justice.  “Or Superbia for this particular one.  I think this must be Superbia, anyway.”  He didn’t want to imagine the possibility of even more of these things out there.  

“I’m not sure how he couldn’t notice that something strange was going on,” said Dad.  “Even if he was using ectoplasm and other supernatural elements in his research, we gave him a good grounding in what to expect from ectoplasm in college.”

“Yeah,” said Jazz.  “But not everyone is like you and Mom.  Your college days were over two decades ago.”

Something moving in the dark and rain beyond the GAV windows, catching Danny’s eye.  He pushed past his family to get a better look, blinking to adjust his eyes.  

“Heck,” he said.  “We have a mob.”

“What?” exclaimed Dad, rushing to the console to turn on the GAV’s exterior floodlights.  

They illuminated Dr. Stone and a crowd of college and graduate students quite nicely.  Their eyes reflected a dim red.  The GAV was, as far as Danny could see, surrounded.

Very briefly, the thought of gunning the GAV and crashing through the crowd crossed his mind.  It was just as quickly dismissed.  

He didn’t know what the line between influenced and mind controlled was, or how easily Superbia could cross it.  It was even possible that the ‘hell portal’ could vault over both of those and land directly in possession.  

“Ghost shield?” suggested Danny.  

“Will it do anything?” asked Mom.  

“Won’t hurt,” said Danny with a shrug.  

Mom flipped the switch.  

“What are we going to do?” asked Jazz, softly. “Wait them out?”

“Realistically,” said Danny, “we don’t have enough food and water to do that.  With this many people, they could take turns watching us.”

“Call the police?” suggested Maddie.  The other three turned to look at her.  “They are still human, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, frowning.  “But I don’t know how much, um, agency they have right now.  If we were in Amity, I’d say sure, our police understand, mostly, but…  Also, bringing extra hostages into this might not be a good idea.”

“If it’s the campus police that would get called, they might be affected, too,” said Jazz.  

“They have campus police?  How do you know?”

“This college sent me a brochure once.”

“Right.  Um.  I could always just fly us out of here,” said Danny.

“Assuming they don’t have ranged attacks,” said Mom, dubiously.

“Hm.  Yeah.  I think I could lift the GAV, and then we could just leave the shield on.”

“Assuming the shield does anything.”

Danny shrugged.  “I can always just try to fight them outright.  I’d prefer not to do that, though.”

Mom inhaled as if she were about to say something but was cut off by a loud noise from outside.

“Jack~  Maddie~ I know you’re in there.”  That was Dr. Stone’s voice, warped by a megaphone speaker.  “Why don’t you come out and see what I’ve done?  I dare say I’ve exceeded even our wildest dreams from college.”  A long pause.  “I even made a portal…  Weren’t you trying to get one of those?  Isn’t that what got good old Vlad hospitalized?”  There was laughter.  Too much laughter.  

The mob was laughing, too.

Superbia.  Pride.

Danny knew what he wanted to do.  He wanted to walk out and deal with the threat that was grating on his every sense.  But…  He knew that prideful actions were contraindicated under the present circumstances.  

Influence.  Right. How much could Danny be influenced?

How much could his family be influenced?

He looked up at his parents, seeking guidance. They seemed uncertain, too.  

“I didn’t destroy any lives- I made new life. New life!  Powered by an interdimensional portal, oh, yes…  Can you imagine the application?  Can you imagine a new world?”

“Okay, he didn’t seem like this in the apartment,” muttered Jazz.  “We have human nonlethal weapons, right?”

“Still have to worry about running people over,” said Danny.  He looked back at the lab building.  “We could try to cut this off at the source.  They aren’t protecting the building.  They’re using it as part of their perimeter.”

Eyes turned to the dimly lit building.  

“We can cover you,” offered Dad.  

“I don’t like this any better than you flying off with us,” said Mom.  “But…  It offers a more permanent solution.”

Danny should have gone after it when he was in the building the first time.  Well.  Time only rewound for one ghost, and that ghost wasn’t him.  

Unless he counted…  Never mind.  The point was, despite all his other wonderful and troubling features, Danny couldn’t go back and change a decision he’d already made.  Agonizing over it was a waste of time and brain power.  

Dad got behind the wheel.  Jazz crawled up into the well-disguised turret.  Maddie manned the other weapons.  

Danny stood at the door, ready to run, ready to transform as soon as he was through the shield.  

Family bonding activities.  So much fun.  

.

The mob attacked before he got the door open. He still made it to the building.

.

Danny didn’t bother with doors or windows or halls. He remembered what floor Dr. Stone’s office was on, and, now that he was sensitized to it, he could feel Superbia. He went through the walls, straight as an arrow.

(He wondered, briefly, if he was being as bigoted as he’d often felt his parents to be.  If he was ascribing more evil to the portals to the Red Country than was warranted. If he was simply holding up a dark mirror and seeing what he feared from himself.)

(But no.  He did not command like that.  He did not force his people to assemble armies in the night or attack people.  He kept them safe.  He had rules.)

The lab was awash in sick red not-light that burned in Danny’s mind.  It was barely physically perceptible, more present in senses that couldn’t translate to human terms than anything to do with Danny’s eyes, ghostly or not.  

In the center of the lab, on an operation table, was a stitched-together corpse.  Perhaps, under other circumstances, it would have been a very pretty corpse.  A young woman with long dark hair and broad shoulders.  

Its chest had been torn open.  Half-in half-out of the cavity was a red orb, the source of the not-light, like some sick imitation of a ghost core.  

(It reminded Danny of Freakshow’s staff, and he realized that he never did find out where that horrid thing had come from.)

They had been trying to make something like Danny.

He felt like he had eaten those blood blossom pancakes.  

Danny gritted his teeth and let his light, white-green and clear, fill his hands.  Ectoplasm fought against the miasma in the air, an oddly purifying presence. It wasn’t enough to chase away the wrongness.  This wasn’t his space.  

The fight against Gula was different.  Both he and it had been within nominally living bodies.  They had been next to the heart of Danny’s territory, his home ground.  Danny had been tricked and trapped, taken off guard, unable to use the tricks he had grown used to while fighting ghosts and Vlad.

(He could feel Superbia in his mind, pride urging him forward towards error.  Pride in his abilities, in his mind, in his family.)

Danny drifted sideways, watching.  Listening.  Other things in the building were stirring.  Sparks of wrongness growing and twisting, warping into fountains and springs.  This whole building was full of it.  Rotten to the bones.  It pressed against his teeth.  

Careful.  

He had to be careful.  

The orb shone.  

(Too much like Freakshow’s staff.)

(Influence, Danny remembered.  Just how close was it to mind control?)

Doing this as a human was impossible.  Trying to fight that as a ghost was unwise.

The always-open always-closed door that both contained and laid within Danny’s soul shifted.  So did the corpse on the table, its constituent parts sliding over each other gruesomely.  Death had lost its hold, lost its meaning.  The ghost that was Danny twisted, and he was too human, too alive.

Special little thing.  You think you can defeat us.

He could.  He could open himself and wash all this away in an instant.  He could burn with electric fire and the cold of deep space.  He could reach out.  The orb would be as dust under his hand.  

He didn’t move.  

In thinking you become…

Un-light burned up from the grooves in the tile floor. It didn’t reach the soles of his boots, didn’t reach his soul.  He gritted his teeth.  

US.  

YOUR VICTORY IS OURS.

“Wow, you picked the wrong person to use that strategy on,” said Danny, out loud.  Internally, he pulled on the delicate and frayed strands of reality that persisted even here. “I have so much imposter syndrome and anxiety that it isn’t even funny.  I know I can’t beat you.  Not here.”

But then, he didn’t have to.  

He found the right string and pulled.  He found the key and opened the door.  Death was in the room again.  Danny could move again.  Not so much the pile of flesh in front of him.  It was hard, it hurt, to keep hold of something like this, but half of Danny was this, was dead, even if he had far too many halves to ever be whole.  

Ice coated the floor, the tiles cracking under the sudden temperature change.  He dropped to the floor and was human.  

An impossible thing.  

And behind the human—

Well.  Danny didn’t have to defeat Superbia.  It wasn’t like Gula, didn’t have that strength, that experience.  He just had to make it so the things that would, could.  

(Danny had rules.  Some of them were to protect himself.)

He walked over to the orb.  Ultimately, it was just a representation, not Superbia itself. Still.  He put his foot down on it and slowly transferred his weight to it until it cracked.  Until it splintered.  Until it shattered.  Until he ground its dust under his heel.  

Then, the building collapsed.  Danny didn’t move, didn’t have to move.  He was a ghost again, floating in the air, exactly where he had been, all the floors having passed harmlessly through him.  

Outside, the faculty and student body of the college were sprawled in piles on the ground.  The GAV was, somehow, halfway up a tree.  A shockingly sturdy tree.  Several statues were in pieces.  

The sun was coming up.  

Danny put a hand to his chest and assessed himself. Yes.  Still here.  Still himself.  The Ghost Zone still sang in his bones, in his core.  He was still anchored in Amity Park.  Everything in order.  

This place, though… This place would be tainted for years, a thin spot forever.  He could feel it, now.  Why couldn’t he feel it before, when they drove in?

He shuddered.  Then he flew down to the GAV and knocked on the window.  Mom rolled it down.  

“Want me to fly us away to somewhere secluded before the cops get called and we get asked a bunch of awkward questions?” he asked.

Mom closed her eyes.  “Please do,” she said.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Killer Party || Morgan & Erin

Location: Erin’s place

Timing: Current

Parties: @corpse--diem & @mor-beck-more-problems

Summary: A dead girl and a funeral director roll into a backyard with a bounce house. Soft friendship ensues.

Erin surveyed her backyard, and after shuffling around a few potted plants and some outdoor furniture, she wondered for the first time if there actually was enough room for a bouncy castle. What an unlikely predicament she’d found herself in here. Of all the problems she could list, this one was almost refreshing. A freshly thawed bowl of eyes sat waiting for Morgan when she arrived, just as promised. Already off to a good start to a two-month death day anniversary, right? This could be normal. As normal as a 35 year old woman about to trade some magical rocks for a bouncy house a few short weeks after she’d murdered someone could be. Morgan had a way about her that really did lift her spirits and distract her from everything else. And that’s because she wasn’t normal. She was just as weird and confident in that weirdness as Erin was. Until she got here? Erin slipped into one of the patio chairs, sipping on a fresh glass of whiskey. Rustling grass broke her thoughts and in an instant she was on her feet, hand moving to the knife she now permanently kept at her side. “Oh fuck, Morgan,” she breathed out some of between a sigh and a nervous laugh. “Sorry, you scared the shit out of me.” Seemed to be a trend with their meetings. She moved her hand from the hilt of the knife, smoothly and slowly, giving a wave. “Is being ridiculously stealthy just a zombie thing or a Morgan thing?”

Since it was broad daylight, Morgan figured she didn’t need to make more of a fuss than showing up when she said she would with the now deflated bounce house folded under her arm. She came around the back of the house and into the yard, beaming when she saw her friend. “Hey!” She cried brightly. When Erin whirled, a hand on a knife at her hip. Morgan jumped back, brow furrowed with as much confusion as concern. She hadn’t taken Erin for the kind of person who was capable of the ‘stab first, ask questions later’ mentality. That was hunter bullshit. Fear-based, ignorant, impulsive in the worst way. “Y-yeah…” she said slowly. “I uh, I can see that.” She nodded at Erin’s hip, indicating that she’d seen exactly what Erin had been about to do. She had practiced too much with Mina and seen Deirdre arm herself for the day too often not to notice the bulge of the sheath. What had happened to Erin between a radio party in the embalming room and now? She looked like she’d been wrung through one of those old industrial machines too many times, flattened and drained. “I’ve always been really quiet when I walk,” she said. “I brought this for you.” She took the folded up plastic and laid it on one of the patio chairs slowly. “You uh...maybe wanna play some catch up on what’s been going on with you first?”

The alarm in Morgan’s reaction was enough to send a guilt-ridden warmth up Erin’s cheeks. “Sorry,” she said again, quieter, more sincere, watching her set the bouncy castle down. “Can never be too careful in my line of work, you know?” She almost physically cringed at her own hurried, cliche of an excuse. Took a breath, let it settle, and finally offered her friend a more sincere smile. “It’s been… a time, yeah.” To say the least. Diving right in with murder plots didn’t seem like the right move here, though. She held up a finger, her smile purposefully widening. “But first thing’s first!” she moved to the bowl on the table beside her, holding it out in front of her and made a show of lifting the lid off of it with another one. “Happy Two Month Deathiversary!” she bellowed dramatically, brimming with enthusiasm. She set the lid down, digging into her pocket for the bag of stones that almost made a home in her garden. “Ta-da! Your adder rocks, as promised, my fine zombie friend.”

Somehow, Erin’s underground organ trade hadn’t read as ‘violently dangerous’ to Morgan until now. She had pictured people like herself lining up discreetly or pulling up in their Hondas in the dead of night, sheepishly collecting a meal of brains or blood or whatever else discreetly and driving away. Maybe a few underground transplants or some mad science supply gathering, but nothing that warranted reaching for a knife. But there was something too real in the way Erin’s face clouded with shame. It hadn’t been a vague nightmare, but something her muscles were remembering an occasion for. Morgan’s frown softened. “It’s okay,” she said, hoping they weighed enough to cover whatever Erin had gone through recently.

She couldn’t help but beam at the bowl of eyes and the bag of adder stones. “Thanks, Erin, my fine funeral organ dealing friend.” she said and came over to give the woman a hug. “Ooh, and look at all the colors!” She picked up a blue eye, then a brown one, popping them in her mouth. “If I told you they had different flavors, would you believe me?” She asked, mouth half full. She swallowed, continuing, “This really is great of you. And as promised, I have normal, human nacho fixings in my bad, but I wanted them to be nice and fresh for you. And while I work, maybe you can tell me what’s got you looking for knife fights around every corner? Or is that more of an after testing the bounce house? As you know, I am a very flexible gal, but I would like an explanation.”

Normal. Erin had to laugh quietly at herself as Morgan’s arms wrapped around her, hands full with eyeballs and stones. As she watched Morgan chow down on her celebratory snacks, she wasn’t sure why she was still trying to integrate that word into her life anymore. Didn’t mean much to begin with, really. This was her normal and if this was the kind of thing that made her friends happy on the reminder of what she could only assume was a horrible fucking day? She’d take it. “Really?” she raised a brow, glancing down at the kaleidoscope of irises between them. “I mean, you’re the one eating them, so,” she shrugged. “What color tastes like what? Anything comparable to human food?” Of course she had to ask. How could she not?

Morgan’s insistence left her as annoyed as she was grateful, but it wasn’t an unfair demand. Erin had almost pulled a knife on her. Talking about this still felt weird despite having these new safe spaces to do just that. Nodding, she poked around the bag, the warm, cheesy goodness promising nothing but good things. “I feel like I probably shouldn’t jump around with a stomach full of nachos,” she glanced over, the quick anger that flared up simmering. “After?” She asked hopefully, giving her a gentle nudge. “It’s your day after all.” Felt odd to word it like that but she couldn’t think of a better explanation. Paused for a moment in between reaching for the bouncy castle and trying to figure out how to execute this layout to catch Morgan’s gaze. “How are you feeling? Really?”

Morgan reached for another eyeball and grinned. “Well, you know how skittles are mostly the same but they got that hint of artificial flavor between all the different colors? Well these—” She swallowed and reached for another one and made it look at Erin. “Aren’t anything like that. If there’s a difference, it’s more like the blue m&ms versus the green ones.” She smirked, her expression wide and mischievous.

She went to the bounce house and started the air pump that came with it. It was almost a relief, delaying the nachos and the heavy talk. She was doing so much talk lately; everyone she knew was suffering and she had nothing to offer them for it in return, sometimes not even words. And now Erin too? Morgan wanted to swallow her own angst down and put it away. She had just started to fix the balance of her good days and bad days. She had it easier than most. She was loved. She was as medically stable as a zombie could be. And yet when Erin asked her question she sighed, wrestling with the urge to vomit everything up. “Trying not to think about how I still don’t have my shit together,” she said with a sad smirk. “I’m not even cursed anymore, you know? And two months in the—not the ground, but, doing the dead girl disco.” She unfolded everything and pushed the button, let the pump do its work. “Are you where my antidepressant dealer gets the cerebrospinal fluid for my meds?” She asked. “Because that’s a thing. I think it has to be fresh though, so, maybe not? But—everything is mostly fine. Just need to figure out what comes next. Easy-peasy, right?”

Erin raised her eyebrows at the eyeball staring back at her, taking in Morgan’s explanation with a confused but genuine laugh. “They all taste exactly the same, though?” She countered, tone lilting into a question as she suddenly doubted every handful of M&M’s she’d ever popped into her mouth. “But--sure, fine. You’re the eyeball aficionado here.”

With the pump doing all the work for them, there wasn’t much to do but watch as it started to slowly, very slowly, come to life. She sat back onto the grass, hoping that the weird shape and color of this thing would make more sense once it wasn’t a deflated clump. Her eyes turned up to Morgan as she spoke and felt her heart pull a little for her friend. “If it helps, I think most people don’t have their shit together. They’re just really good at faking. Present company included,” she smiled softly back at her. “Oh, yeah. Just buy a day planner and you’re all set.” She teased, giving a curt nod. Antidepressant dealer? Shit. For a moment, Erin thought this was leading to a joke. Punchline never came, though, and she sat up a little straighter, shoulders tensing. Guess she was a connection to that world, even if all she dealt in was body parts. Her mind immediately jumped to Felix again. “I don’t know anything about that, but I probably know someone who does,” she shrugged. “If you’re serious about that.”

“That was the joke, Erin,” Morgan said with a wink. “Cute colors on the outside, same old goodness on the inside. Although, I will swear that there’s a hint of a superior difference with the brown ones. On both accounts. Call it my aficionado taste.”

Erin at least wasn’t suffering so much that she couldn’t join in with Morgan on her wry humor, and this gave Morgan a few crumbs of comfort. She had powered through enough talks while cursed and suffering to know that it didn’t mean whatever she carried was light. She had pulled a knife on her of all things. “Oh, I got the hookup from this guy, Felix? I just know he’s got to get the raw goods from somewhere. I can’t let it bug me too much, though. A gal’s gotta stay off the floor and keep trucking somehow. And I already want another human brain, so there’s no point in being cute about some spinal fluid. I’m an eater of flesh, consumer of viscera and weird creepy bits of the dead.” She shrugged, trying to smooth out the edge in her that had sharpened her voice. “And a person,” she forced herself to add. “A still very cute person, I might add. And, hey, I’ve always heard that bullet journaling would totally be my thing. Maybe I can sticker and doodle my way into a sense of purpose.”

Erin couldn’t stop the massive eye roll that came over her. “Smartass,” she chuckled, feeling a little bit of the tightness in her chest loosen. For a moment, anyway. “Looks like we’ve got the same hookup then.” Sometimes she forgot just how small this damn town was. It wasn’t hard to miss the tension in the very pointed way she was describing herself. Like she had to vocalize it, in tangent with being a ‘person’, to remind even herself it was true. “You are a person,” Erin insisted, smiling softly. “Very cute and very much a person. One of my favorite people, at that. And a good friend,” she added. It was hard to forget not everyone would agree. Alain came to mind, and maybe a few months ago she would have agreed with his stance on all things undead. A guilty warmth at just the thought briefly reddened her skin and she looked away to watch the inflatable again. “Sure, you eat weird stuff now. So do a lot of people. Have you ever met a vegan?” she teased gently, glancing back up at her. “And if you ever forget, or need a reminder about that person thing, you know you can call me, right?”

Morgan watched the squid unfold and lift itself up into shape as Erin spoke. Her smile turned watery. She’d known, somehow, that Morgan was teetering over the edge and pulled her back just in time. She smirked at the vegan comment. “You know, we don’t get that many in Texas, but they sure are weird.” She finally turned to Erin, looking up at her with watery eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “That really, um, means a lot from you. I don’t have many friends who are human, who see things like you do. So…” Morgan pulled Erin into a hug, arms wrapped around her middle, head pressing into her shoulder as she forced back her tears. “Thank you. And I will.” She turned back to the bounce house, now towering over them like the friendliest of giants. “Come on, we gotta make sure this baby’s still got all its bounce, right?” She started slipping off her shoes and tugging Erin towards the entrance.

Morgan’s misty eyes tugged at Erin’s heartstrings in a way she didn’t expect. Morgan’s strong but sturdy presence had been equally as unexpected though, hadn’t it? Didn’t even need a beating heart for Erin to recognize how big and accepting it could be. The other woman barely batted an eye at her own darkness, accepting her in full, no questions asked. There’d been a darkness in her too that felt all too familiar and welcoming. “Your other friends are idiots then,” Erin mumbled, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Sometimes you just needed someone you could sit in those shadows with. And sometimes that looked like this--sharing eyeball appetizers and bouncing in a bounce house shaped like a giant squid. Wait. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Erin hesitated at the entrance of the bounce castle as she finally took in the full view of what the bounce castle had grown into.

A motherfucking squid.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” She had to laugh or she’d probably break right then and there. “Nic is going to lose it if he sees this thing,” she groaned, eyes wide and staring at the monstrosity, even as Morgan tugged her along. She slipped off her shoes and followed her anyway. It had to have been at least solid decades since she’d found herself in anything even resembling a bouncy castle and not even the ghost of their squid’s past could stop her from enjoying this. It only took a few modest test jumps to remind her of that and before she knew it, long, overdue laughter spilled from her as she really took flight. “I’m pretty sure this is--” she squealed, grabbing onto Morgan’s shoulder when she lost her footing for a second, laughing even harder. “--the best trade I’ve ever made in my life,” she finished with a grin.

Morgan did a double take at the mention of Nic. “As in Nicodemus?” She quirked a brow, searching Erin’s expression for more context. “Is he--? Are you two--? Oh, stars, you are, aren’t you? Erin! You and--!” She gaped, squealing like a teenger as she stumbled into the bounce house. “I want to know everything. All of it, okay? Oh, and if it’s official, so I know just how much of a hard time to give Nic when I talk to him.” She dove onto her back, letting the inflated floor catch her with a bounce and then scrambled back up to her feet to try a flip, ending in a messy tangle of limbs. “It is--as always--a pleasure doing business with you, Erin.” She giggled and flopped onto her back again, tugging Erin down with her. “But, come on. You gotta tell me something.”

Ah, fuck. Erin cringed and not just at the unexpected high-pitched squeal that erupted from Morgan. She couldn’t believe that for even a moment she’d forgotten Morgan was an active member of the ever-growing Nicodemus Bossier Fan Club. “Everything?” She asked, a twinge of panic straining the laugh that followed. Her bounces slowed as she watched Morgan flail around, until she finally dropped down with her at her urging. The plastic felt cool against her back as they bobbed, the floor settling with their sudden stillness, and she realized right then that she’d never tried to explain out loud what they were to another living (or unliving) soul. “We’re... something?” This would’ve been easier to explain if either of them had been capable or courageous enough to put their thoughts to words. For now, she shrugged and bit down on her bottom lip when a dumb, shy smile started to slip through. “We haven’t actually said that we’re anything. He’s, uh--my best friend, you know? And we care about each other. So it’s definitely something.” A good something, she knew that too. She glanced over to Morgan finally, a wider smile and a hearty laugh loosening her chest. “And I will literally never turn down an opportunity to give him a hard time. Please, do as you must,” she insisted.

Morgan poked her finger into the corner of Erin’s smile, giggling again. “I know how that is. Deirdre and I were ‘something’ for months. When it’s all new and shiny, it’s just like...I mean you want to let whatever it is be its own thing, right? No weird expectations that are gonna break things before they’ve really started. And you don’t want to stop your momentum or anything, you just want to find out where it’s going--or that’s how it is for me, anyway.” She didn’t mention that she hadn’t made it past the ‘something’ stage with a few other women in the past, and the lack of a name, of the legitimacy of language, had made it easier to convince herself that she wasn’t heartbroken by the disappointments. She had a lot more hope for Erin and Nic than she did for her past self. “I’m happy for you guys. And thank you, for the opportunity to give Nic a hard time. Please tell him I’m responsible for the squid bounce house. And I insist on him trying it out. I think it’ll be good for his, uh, stress relief, you know?” She started laughing just imagining the scene. “He’s a pretty cool guy, you know. Did you already tell him about, you know, your whole side hustle thing?”

Erin rolled her eyes, playfully smacking Morgan’s hand away, though she couldn’t disagree with what she was saying. It was delicate, quiet, but it was good. It was relieving to know she didn’t have to explain it more than that. Benefits of befriending women her own age, finally, she supposed. It was nice. “You’ve been reading my diary, haven’t you?” She teased, the floor swaying with her when she turned to face Morgan better, resting her head against her palm. “I’m… not sure this is his kind of stress reliever, honestly. He’s not a big fan of squids,” she laughed, already picturing him sending this thing to a watery grave with one or two well placed stabs. “Very cool. The guy knows all about my shady side and likes me anyway. I think that means he’s a keeper,” she smirked, picking at a piece of dirt on the floor. Her brows suddenly narrowed and lifted to Morgan’s. “Wait, so… Deirdre, huh?” She tilted her head slightly, settling in. “You’ve gotta tell me how that one works.”

“Yes, Erin, you should know better than to leave your diary lying around where I can see your E heart’s N doodles from the margins. I’m holding it hostage until you let me make you nachos.” Morgan teased, cackling at the end of her words, unable to keep up the act for very long. “You don’t think Squidward looks different enough for Nic to give him a chance? Maybe you can just march him in blindfolded. Don’t tell him he’s in the belly of a plastic bouncy squid, yaknow?” She sniggered and pressed her arms down into the bouncy floor to get some movement going again. “Mmhm,” she said, her voice rising and falling along with her bounce. “The ones who accept your shady side, or even like you for your shady side, are the ones you know are definitely keepers. I can attest to that personally too. It’s not worth it if you have to hide yourself or your life from someone. Things are hard and complicated enough on their own.” She turned her head sideways to look at Erin properly, a sly grin warming up her face. “Yeah, Deirdre. She has...a lot more to her than most people realize, for one. But I mean...in some ways it’s really simple. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And she’s also the most interesting, surprising, thoughtful--kind-hearted person I’ve met too. The only one I’ve been able to talk to, practically non stop, for six months and still have things to say. We love each other a lot. We help each other. And we don’t keep secrets. I moved in a couple months ago, before we were even officially dating, and...I don’t know. For two different people who haven’t been happy a lot before, the space we make when we’re together is the most comforting one I’ve ever had.” She shrugged, her smile soft now. “You can ask more, but I’m gonna need something on why you’re suddenly Miss Violence eventually.”

Erin pushed herself up to sit, her body shaking with laughter covering her face with her hand. Oh God, she was downright giggling. “No, absolutely not. You’ve gotta show me how to take this down before you leave.” She watched her, adding to the bounce wave. It was hard not to smile as Morgan gushed. The only true experience she’d ever had with Dierdre involved a story about pulling a knife on Regan and endless pursuits to purchase her hearse. The original alarm that had come with both of those things had dwindled over the months. Guess there was some sort of quiet understanding that came with the shady life that Morgan had touched on. “As long as you’re happy, seriously, that’s all that matters,” Erin shook her head, reaching over to squeeze her friend’s arm. “Even if your girlfriend lightly stalked me for my hearse once upon a time.” Ah. Seemed like they weren’t going to be able to skate right past that topic with super normal girl talk and bounce castle fun times, huh? Erin’s smile faded and she wrapped her arms around her knees. “I, uh--” The words kept getting stuck in her chest. Guilt kept it firmly in place, even with the agreeable ‘shady’ company she’d found herself in. Might as well just fucking say it, right? “Things got bad with my side hustle. Like, bad-bad. I had to…” she narrowed her eyes, cleared her throat. “I had to go all Godfather and take care of a problem. If you know what I mean.”

Morgan propped herself up on her arms as Erin agonized over the question. She couldn’t figure what would be enough to get under Erin’s skin, but the confession of a murder hadn’t been on her shortlist. It was only watching her friend try to swallow the lump in her throat that she remembered how new this world still was to her. She hadn’t even been handling organs for very long either. The moose sacrifice had almost been too much for her. And now… “I’m sorry, that you had to kill someone, Erin,” she said quietly. “It makes you feel different after. It weighs on you. But that doesn’t mean you were wrong to do it. It doesn’t mean that they didn’t deserve what happened to them.” She held Erin’s eyes, clear and sober and solemn with the weight of what she’d done in the ring. “And I know that because I’ve killed someone too. And I feel...a lot of things about it. But she was helping keep one of my friends hostage along with who knows how many supernaturals. And I think I would do it again. But I also know that handling death like that is...it’s different from how we are normally. You should feel however about it.” She reached out for Erin’s arm and squeezed gently. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

Morgan took Erin’s confession with more grace than she would have expected. Laying murder onto someone wasn’t something most people took likely. But Morgan wasn’t most people, though. It was the only reason she felt comfortable enough to ever utter something like this to someone. Apparently, with Morgan’s own confession, she realized she couldn’t have picked a better ear. “I think I feel more guilty about the fact that I don’t feel guilty. The guy was an absolute scumbag who made my life hell,” she answered honestly. She was right though. Erin did feel different. She wasn’t sure which end of the spectrum that left her on but different was a good way to describe it. “Without sounding too cliche, the guy I had killed was skimming off the top, tried to blame it on me. And my boss decided to… test my loyalty, I guess, when I explained to him what had actually happened. So he made me take care of it. Him.” She cleared her throat, scratching the back of her neck. Found it surprisingly easy to still meet Morgan’s bright blue eyes. “You’ve… killed someone? You?” She felt bad but she had to ask. As aware of Morgan’s dark side she was, it felt wrong to add ‘murderer’ to that shadowy list.

“There’s this principle in alchemy called equivalent exchange, where you have to offer material of equal value to what you’re making or requesting from the energy of the universe. It’s all part of this pagan idea of universal balance,” Morgan said quietly. “The turn of the seasons, the planets and the stars, even life and death. It’s all supposed to come out even in the grand scheme of things. And maybe if humans and sometimes other people, I guess, didn’t give each other reasons to be awful it would be all the time. But that’s not how it is.” She lifted her eyes to meet Erin’s eyes. “I don’t know how much I believe that anymore, but I am pretty damn sure that if there is going to be anything close to ‘balance,’ it’s something we have to help make for ourselves. Someone takes it upon themselves to wreck your balance, tries to get you killed for something they did, or throws supernaturals in cages like they’re animals, they deserve to have that harm shifted back at them. If you don’t feel guilty, Erin, don’t.” She quirked the corner of her mouth sadly. “Maybe I would’ve gone about it different if I hadn’t just been so...angry. This guy made us see our friends’ dead bodies with his illusion magic, to fuck with us, because he could, and I just kind of...lost my shit. I didn’t get him, but I got one of his friends. I pummeled her into the ground until I couldn’t.” She swallowed thickly. “She was one of the guards. She saw them. My friends, all of them. She helped keep at that awful place, The Ring? And I’m not sorry she or any of the other ones are gone. But I do...I don’t know. It’s like she’s pressing on my back. I feel a piece of her. And that doesn’t feel fair, but...maybe that’s just how it is.”

Erin remained quiet as Morgan explained the premise of equivalent exchange. Frankly, it made more sense than anything magical related she’d heard so far. Balance. It was always about balance. “I kinda like that,” she smiled softly. She knew that she had no real reason to be guilty outside of what a ‘normal’ human reaction to this would be. But she didn’t. And it wouldn’t come. Her eyes fell on Morgan for a long time, trying to picture the horrible scene she’d just described. It was so hard to imagine those big blue eyes filled with enough rage to beat a woman to death but if she’d learned anything, nobody was what they seemed around here. “The Ring?” Erin asked, but she could only presume it was the awful place Morgan had mentioned with the cages. She leaned over, running a hand down her shoulder.  “Sounds like they deserved it just as much as my guy. I know it’s not as eloquent as equivalent exchange but--sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve gotta do to because it’s right. Because you have to survive.”

Morgan put her hand over Erin’s and threaded their fingers together. She still felt some kind awful inside. She hadn’t wept for the nameless woman once. For herself, for Remmy and Nell and everyone who had been held there, sure, but not for what she’d taken. It worried her in a quiet way, how much of her had been warped by death? What else had she lost that she hadn’t accounted for. But looking at Erin, who by her reckoning was no more monstrous than herself or Deirdre or Remmy or Nell, she decided to lay the question aside. Sometimes balance wasn’t pretty. “Guess witches know a thing or two about a thing or two,” she said. Then, laughing feebly. “Didn’t mean to bring down the mood comparing body counts. If you’ve still got an appetite, though, I could make some really great distraction nachos. We could even bring it back out here. I’d love to see how long you last.”

Erin returned Morgan’s small smile, giving her hand a squeeze. It felt like there was plenty still left unsaid, settled between them, shrouded in this damn squid bounce castle. Definitely not the place she’d ever pictured herself bonding over murder with someone, especially not the murder part. “Distraction nachos sound amazing right now,” she shrugged. “Fun fact about me: I’m never not hungry,” she smirked, trying to ease some lightness back into the air again. Hard sell after what they were just discussing but that was the beauty of this friendship, wasn’t it? She hopped to her feet, wobbling just a little when the floor moved beneath them. Giving one last bounce when Morgan tried to stand, she laughed again, holding her hand out to help her up “And if that’s a challenge, you’re so on, lady!”

[peachymhaechan]

“Are you sure this is legal?”

Genre: fluff, a tad bit of angst, you already know the fuckin vibes; best friends to lovers! au

Warnings: swearing, breaking into a closed pool i guess ??? honestly p tame compared to what i normally write

Pairing: na jaemin x female reader

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1OT332LXdqZmRE28NxPRzg?si=OGJL7n3KQYmcpfCwVFhRQw

A/N: i hope the ending doesn’t translate to me not knowing how to end this too badly lol,,, also- not to be political or anything but,, here are some petitions to sign if you haven’t already :) https://blacklives.help/?url=https://blacklives.help&gclid=Cj0KCQjw9b_4BRCMARIsADMUIyqCSaXuMx89tawp4m0X8HiGhh8gGI_jWIO-aWY72f8TKaLdF0GHh3YaAmnAEALw_wcB#petitions 

Being friends with Jaemin was always an adventure. Having met him in preschool and growing up down the street from him, you had plenty of memories from early childhood all the way to adulthood. You experienced just about every big milestone moment together- losing your first baby tooth, entering middle school, being heartbroken for the first time, getting your license, even opening your college acceptance letters to your dream college together. From the moment you two met, you were both attached to the hip and inseparable ever since. Luckily, you both had the same dream college and both were accepted, so not even post-secondary education could get you two away from one another. 

The summer before college, however, life seemed to change. 

You and Jaemin had been through so much together, and you both had felt like nothing would change that. There had been many late night talks discussing your future plans; you’d find your significant others, get married (with each other as the best woman and man of honor, of course), have kids, and have your kids be best friends. Simple as that, no other way of thinking about it. 

It was a few days after graduation, and you went over to Jaemin’s house in the evening, already expecting to walk into his house and find a living room full of teenage boys playing video games since Jaemin didn’t respond to any of your texts. Kicking off your shoes and throwing on a pair of slippers by the door, you found your suspicions to be correct. Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, and Haechan all lounged around Jaemin’s living room, completely focused on the television screen broadcasting their game of Call of Duty. They all spoke amongst one another, switching between discussing the game at hand and other matters- specifically, Jaemin’s love life. 

Or, you should say non existent love life, as Haechan so lovingly reminded him. 

“Jaemin, are you ever going to ask Y/N out? Or are you going to keep leading on that girl you took to prom. Crap, what’s her name? Isn’t it like Kim or something? Ah, fuck, Jeno, why’d you shoot me?” Haechan whined out, stopping you on the spot. I’m sorry, fucking pardon? you thought, not sure if you heard correctly. 

“Dude, I’ve thought about it and I just- I don’t know. I wanted to take her to prom and ask her out afterwards, but then Y/N was asked by Mark and… the timing was never right, and it never feels like it ever is right. I’m just going to push it off until college, I think,” Jaemin mumbled, fingers aggressively jabbing at the controller in his hands. At his words, your mind went blank and your body started running on autopilot. Jaem liked you? Like, like-liked you? No way. No fucking way. 

“Jaemin, you gotta ask her out, dude. You let Mark swoop in for a bit, and you’re lucky she ended it before it went anywhere. Are you going to let the same thing happen in college? What if she doesn’t cut the guy off before things get serious, and you never get it off your chest?” Jeno asked, raising a few solid points. You hated to admit it, but he made sense. It was still weird to hear out loud, though. You had never thought of Mark as ‘stealing you’ from Jaemin, and truth be told you did enjoy all the times you had with Mark, but you didn’t want to get into something serious when he was about to leave for a college that was all the way across the country. Long distance relationships work all the time, but you didn’t want your first serious relationship to be long distance. As always, Jaemin was there to cheer you up after your first heartbreak, lending you his shoulder to cry on. And ever the gentleman, he didn’t even complain when you got snot all over his shirt from crying so much. 

But hearing all those things made you wonder why Jaemin was there for you to cry on; in the past you had wondered how Jaemin was always such a steady and strong person in your life, but now you were doubting how and why. 

A couple more seconds of silence passed, and then Jaemin’s mom noticed you before Jaemin and the rest of the boys did, and she yelled, “Jaem, Y/N’s here!” to which she received no response. 

Sighing, you strolled over to where Jaemin was sitting and stood in front of him, trying to get his attention, but to no avail, as he simply just stood up and looked at the TV screen over you. 

“Jaem, you’re lucky your mom is in the other room, otherwise I’d be cussing you out right now,” you told him, putting your hands on your hips and scowling at the boy. The previous conversation ran through your head, and it took everything in you to force those thoughts back and just act like everything was normal. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin and the rest of the guys were secretly shaking in their boots and wondering how much of their conversation you overheard. 

He stuck his tongue out at you in response, saying, “We’ll be done in just a minute.” Sighing, you flopped down into his spot on the couch, further incentivizing him to finish up his game and pay attention to you. To annoy you, of course, he sat down on you. 

“Jaem, what the hell,” you yelled, voice muffled from his back being right on you. The rest of the guys were too focused on the game to even notice the antics going on between you and Jaemin. Slapping his back, you tried to get him off you but in retaliation he bounced back on you, making the situation even worse. Thank God they finished that round shortly after and he got off you. 

“You suck,” you said, pushing Jaemin off and making him fall on the floor. He looked up at you from the ground and pouted, sticking his bottom lip out so he looked like a baby. All the guys stood up, setting their controllers down and stretching. “You lowkey deserved that, Jaemin,” Renjun announced, arms raised over his head in a stretch. Jaemin suddenly got a smirk on his face, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head, making your eyes widen in fear. 

“Na Jaemin, don’t you dare-” 

The next thing you knew, you were being pulled onto the floor by your legs, a scream leaving your throat but quickly dissolving into a laugh. How you didn’t see that coming you didn’t know. 

“Ew, gross-” 

“They’re doing couple shit again-” 

“I just threw up in my mouth-” 

Rolling your eyes at the comments of the guys, you pulled yourself up off the ground and pursed your lips in annoyance. “What are you guys, twelve?” you rebutted, not tolerating their childish behavior. 

“I will have you know, I just turned thirteen!” Haechan quipped back, making everyone snicker a bit. “Yeah, you sure as hell act like it, too,” you replied, making him scoff. “Anyways, I’m bored. Entertain me,” you announced, dramatically sighing and flailing your arms around. 

“Dude, summer just started. How are you bored already?” Renjun asked you, skeptical as to how you could be so bored in such a short amount of time. “Uh, hello? You guys are basically my only friends, and nobody has answered their phones all day. Yeah, I’m bored, give me something to do, talk to me, ask me to hang out, whatever,” you explained, slightly guilt tripping them. You were only partially lying when you said they were your only friends. You had other people, too, like Chenle and Jisung and Mark and a few others, but they weren’t as close as you were with Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin. Well, Jaemin, specifically. You were certain that if you needed an organ transplant or something, Jaemin would be at the hospital in a matter of minutes and ready to donate. The same couldn’t be said about the others, but you get my point. 

“Okay, fine, let’s order a pizza or something and have a movie night in my backyard. Sound good?” Jaemin suggested, appeasing the group. Naturally, at the mention of pizza, all the boys got excited and aggressively nodded their heads, signalling they were in. Jaemin’s parents bought a large projector for the backyard a few years ago so that whenever he had friends over they could all hangout in the backyard and not disturb the adults inside the house. Smart thinking for them, plus all of Jaemin’s friends had fun with it, so it was a win-win situation. 

You guys all got to work setting up the projector and blankets on the ground in the backyard, trying to hustle so it would all be done before sunset. Luckily you guys succeeded, and Jaemin came back outside with a few pizza pies, the swarm of teenage boys surrounding the pizza before you could even think to get any. Over the years you had learned that if you wanted food, you had to act quick, otherwise all the guys would eat it all without any remorse. So, like always, you jumped into the mayhem and managed to get away with a few slices. Content, you retreated to one of the blankets and sat down, happily chewing away at a piece of pizza, listening to the guys all chatter in the background. Faintly, you heard Haechan and Renjun bickering over something trivial like always, while Jeno and Jaemin stood by and mediated the whole thing. 

“Pepperoni is totally a saturated fat, dumbass!” 

“Nuh uh, saturated fats are liquids at room temperature, wise one! Unsaturated fats are fats like pepperoni and other meats, like, I don’t know, salami!” 

“Actually, according to Google-” 

Someone sitting down next to you pulled you out of your stupor, and you found yourself being surprised by Jaemin sitting next to you. He flashed you a grin, knowing that you secretly enjoyed listening to those two fight like an old married couple as much as he did, though he’d never admit it, either. 

“I’m sorry none of us responded to your texts today,” he said, finishing the last of his pizza and wiping his hands on a napkin. You shrugged, not sure how to properly articulate your true feelings. 

“It’s okay, it just sucks feeling like I’m the only one left out, ya know? And I want to hang out with you guys as much as I possibly can before college. I know that we’re going to school together and will see each other regularly- and if we don’t then I will hunt you down and force you to hang out with me, by the way- but that’s not the case for the other guys, and I want to make the most of this last summer. This is the last summer that we can still be kids and have fun and not have to worry about how much debt we’re in or how much our student loans are. Let’s live a little while we can.” 

Jaemin narrowed his eyes at you, abruptly laid down on the blanket and stared up at the sky, and then quickly shot back up to a sitting position. For once in your life, you couldn’t read the expression on his face, concerning you a tad bit. 

“You’re right,” he told you, standing up and going to his phone to pick a movie for the projector. “You’re right, I hadn’t thought of it that way, to be honest. We should be having fun, though, while we can, because it’s not like the past however many years we’ve known the rest of the guys where they’ll be a five minute walk away. Let’s do some dumb shit this summer while we can still get away with it,” Jaemin said, swiping through Netflix before eventually stopping on the Bee Movie. 

“I mean, I agree with you for the most part, and I’ll do whatever. As long as it isn’t illegal, that is. Your parents would kill you if you got caught and so would mine. They’d tag team it and kill us both, Jaem,” you said, not sure what exactly he had in mind when he said dumb shit. Jaemin, however, and your group of friends in general, seemed to be experts on dumb shit so you couldn’t even imagine what he had up his sleeve. 

He turned to look at you with a sly grin on his face and said, “I guess we better hope we don’t get caught, then.” On that note, he came and sat back down next to you again, tugging you down to lay on the blanket next to him. You chuckled at how clingy he was, pinching his cheeks and cooing at him to annoy him. It didn’t work, though, because the next thing you knew, Jaemin was trapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest, where he cooed down at you and pinched your cheeks. That seemed to catch the attention of the other boys, because they all shut up their argument about saturated vs. unsaturated fats and turned their eyes onto you two. The three of them got shit eating grins on their faces and one of them discreetly took out his phone, taking a video of you two without you guys even noticing. 

From that point, the three of them silently made a pact to do whatever they could within their power to finally get Jaemin to confess to you. So, after a series of aggressive head nods in different directions, they decided to quietly tiptoe back to the house and leave you two outside alone. 

And, the sad part is, you and Jaemin didn’t even notice that the guys were no longer there until about thirty minutes into the movie. “Ya like jazz?” Jaem quoted with the movie, then noticed that you were the only one laughing. “Wait, where’d everyone else go?” he asked, looking around and finding absolutely nobody else in the yard with you two. 

“When did everyone else go?” 

“No clue,” Jaemin responded, shrugging his shoulders and staring at you. He narrowed his eyes, pursed his lips in thought, and stared at you. 

“Jaem, you’re giving me major creeper vibes right now,” you told him, making him laugh. Standing up, he reached his hand down for you to grab so he could pull you up. Sliding your palm in his, he gave you a huge smile and pulled you up, immediately jumping up and down. Giggling, you asked him, “What are you thinking about up in there?” and gently knocked on the side of his head. 

“I’m thinking that we should do something fun, go live a little,” he explained, grabbing his phone and your hand in his then pulling you into his house. His mom was in the living room, watching Jeopardy and drinking tea, fully invested in the show. 

“Mom, where did everyone go?” he asked, leaning against the wall and looking at the TV. “Oh, Jeno said he had to go feed his cats and the others said they needed to help him. Didn’t know it took three people to feed two cats, but you learn something new every day, I suppose,” she informed you two, a glint in her eye that said she knew more than what she was letting on, but you and Jaemin decided to just let it be. 

“Ah, okay. Well, anyways, we're going to go on a drive,” Jaemin told her, surprising you. Somehow you managed to keep your face under control and not display how shocked you were. Living in such a small town, it wasn’t unheard of for teens to go on drives to the local Walmart or the shitty gas station chain for entertainment, but usually you were aware of the plan before it happened. Not when Jaemin was telling his mom he was taking the car. 

“Okay, honey. Stay safe, make good decisions, don’t drink and drive, wrap it before you ta-” 

“MOM, WHAT THE HELL?!” 

You had to agree with Jaemin on that one. 

“I’m just saying! Have fun!” she exclaimed, laughing lightly at his outburst and your disgusted face. 

“Bye Mom, love you,” Jaemin said, slipping on a pair of slides and grabbing the car keys from the dining room table. “Bye, Mrs. Na,” you told her, waving before you left the house. 

“So what’s the plan?” you asked, hopping into the passenger seat and picking a playlist from Jaemin’s phone. A while ago, you had made a playlist full of songs that reminded you of how hanging out with Jaemin made you feel, and after hearing it once, Jaemin fell in love with it. So, anytime you two were going on a drive somewhere or even just having a dance party in your room, that playlist would be the go to. 

“We,” he said, grabbing your headrest to see the driveway and road behind him, “are going swimming.” Naturally, you were confused for quite a few reasons. One: it was almost eleven o’clock at night. Two: none of the other boys or you had a pool. Three: you were wearing jean shorts. 

“Um,” was all you could say, too many things running through your head to properly articulate them, but the one big one was simply ‘What?’

Reaching out, he turned the music up and started dancing a bit in his seat, making you relax a tiny bit. Jaemin seemed so carefree, you figured that you had trusted him enough thus far in your life, might as well trust him on this one, too. 

“HANDS ON THE WHEEL, JAEM!” you yelled when he grabbed your wrists to make you dance. He laughed and put his hands back on the steering wheel, navigating the streets so that you were on track for the community pool. You looked over at him, turning in your seat to face him, and sat there in awe. It looked like something out of a movie, really; the street lights illuminating the highs of his face, the bright smile spanning his entire face, wind blowing his hair around. In that moment, you could feel your heart skip a beat and your throat get tight. There were so many things that you wanted to say to him, like how you knew he was your best friend but your feelings were suddenly very much so not best friend-like, or how you don’t know why your palms start sweating when he smiles at you, or how the casual hand holding he always did with you had you weak in the knees. You weren’t sure exactly when all those thoughts started popping into your brain, but the couple months prior made it increasingly difficult to be best friends with him. Normal best friends don’t think about kissing each other, but there you were, wondering how his lips felt. 

“Enjoying the view?” Jaemin teased, noticing your gaze on him and blushing. “Eh, it’s not too bad, if I’m being honest,” you teased back, a smirk on your face. You wondered why he was blushing so much, but you chalked it up to the humidity despite it cooling down. “Well, you should take a picture of it so you can remember it forever.” 

The statement made you scoff, and you hoped it came off as an exasperated, you’re so full of yourself kind of scoff, but in reality it was a much different scoff. It was truly an exasperated, how could you even think I’d forget something as big as this? kind of scoff. 

“You’re ridiculous sometimes, Na Jaemin,” you stated, leaning back against the car door to fully gaze at Jaemin as he drove. He had one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the middle console, completely at ease while driving you to the pool. His lips were curved up, obviously pleased with the situation at hand. 

“Yet you keep coming back to me, Y/L/N Y/N,” he shot back, trapping you in a corner. Clicking your tongue, you shook your head in mock disappointment. 

“That I do. Not entirely sure, why, I should probably start working on that,” you mumbled, feigning disinterest. Right as you said that, Jaemin pulled into the parking lot of the closed community pool, the street lights illuminating the lot and providing you light to see. 

“Am I supposed to swim in my jean shorts?” you asked, pointing down to your legs. You doubted Jaemin’s parents would have been thrilled with the idea of you sitting in his car on his leather seats with wet jeans on. Yes, the car might have been his, but his parents contributed a hell of a lot of money to buy it, as well as the general upkeep occasionally, and upkeep definitely covered wet jeans on leather seats. 

“Do you even have towels with you?” you asked, Jaemin turning the car off and getting out to go to the trunk. He pulled out a duffel bag with gym clothes in it, sorting through it before taking out two towels and a pair of shorts. 

“Here,” he said, holding out the pair of shorts to you. “There’s a drawstring in the waistband, so you’ll be fine.” You took the shorts from him, holding them up to your waist to try and get an idea on how large they’d be on you. The answer was very, as they went down to your shins. The sight made Jaemin lightly laugh, giggling at the fact that those shorts were on the brink of swallowing you whole. 

“This should be interesting,” you mumbled, trying to calm the blush taking over your cheeks. It was hard to not blush whenever Jaemin laughed like that, the mere sound of his voice enough to drive you crazy. 

“I think so,” he hummed in agreement, a giddy gleam in his eyes. Jaemin was genuinely excited, and as were you. However, you couldn’t help the ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach from forming at the thought of getting in trouble. With a smirk on his face, Jaemin led you over past the entrance and to the side of the pool that was surrounded by a chain link fence. In theory, maybe having a chain link fence was not the best in regards to security, but the pool always had cameras on the property to prevent breaking and entering. 

Jaemin looked around a few times to make sure nobody was around, then tossed his towel up over the fence, and started climbing. Your eyes widened, not sure what to do in that situation. He must have been really confident in everything to be so nonchalant about breaking into the community pool, that was in the middle of the community park, that was regularly patrolled. 

“Are you sure this is legal?” you asked Jaemin, eyes frantically flicking between Jaemin easily scaling the fence and the rest of the park, making sure nobody else was around. He looked down at you from the top of the fence, swinging his leg over to the other side and smirking. 

“Relax,” he said, using a calming tone and climbing down. “Chenle said that they’re in the process of installing new security cameras, and the park security usually don’t go out for their nightly patrol until one in the morning.” He landed softly on the ground with a light thud, peering through the fence to meet your eyes. There was an impish glint in his eyes, and you knew what you had to do next. 

Taking a deep breath, you tossed the shorts and towel over the fence (which landed on Jaemin’s head to your satisfaction), and started to go up. At the top, you looked down at Jaemin, who gave you an encouraging thumbs up, and realized that holy fuck that fence was a lot taller than what you previously perceived. All it took to get you to keep going was one look at Jaemin. A couple seconds later, you had your feet on the ground, hand wrapped around Jaemin’s upper arm to balance yourself. 

“Ready?” he asked, the shorts and towels in his hand, a crazed grin on his face. Seeing how excited he was made a small smile work its way onto your face, and you tried and failed to not show it, but he knew. You grabbed the shorts from him and ducked inside the women’s locker room, changing into the shorts as quickly as you could and then walking back outside to find Jaemin sitting on the side of the pool with his feet in the water. He looked oddly peaceful, watching his reflection on the surface of the water. The sight put a smirk on your face, making you cross your arms and lean against the entrance to the locker room. You wanted the moment to last longer than it did, because the second you sighed out in content, Jaemin turned around and noticed you. 

His face automatically lit up into a beam, clearly relieved to see you. “I thought you fell into the toilet for a second,” he informed you, standing up and walking over to you. You met him in the middle, gazing up at him. “Haha, very funny,” you counter, rolling your eyes. “I’m pretty sure these could be pants on me,” you pointed out, gesturing to the shorts that went down to nearly your ankles. 

As expected, Jaemin started to uncontrollably laugh at the spectacle of you wearing his gym shorts. “You look so stupid,” he wheezed out, legitimately tearing up from laughing so hard. “You’re such a jerk!” you exclaimed, scoffing in disbelief and punching his arm. He rubbed his arm where you hit him, but he did not stop laughing, only pissing you off more. 

“You better watch yourself!” he warned, mockingly pointing his finger at you. Tossing your shorts and towel onto a chair, you stuck your tongue out at him, egging him on further. Bad decision, you realized a second too late. Without any warning, he charged towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He swung you up onto his shoulder, your legs on the front of his body and fists slamming against his back. 

“NA JAEMIN! LET ME DOWN!” you demanded, legs swinging wildly. You figured that with enough thrashing he’d set you down on the ground, but you were oddly mistaken. You could hear the smirk in his voice as he answered, “As you wish.” The next thing you knew, you were tossed into the air and then breaking through the surface of the water, the cooler temperature sending goosebumps up your arms and legs. 

Your feet hit the bottom of the pool and you stood up, rubbing the water out of your eyes to glare up at Jaemin, who stood in front of you outside the pool and laughing at you. 

“You’re such a jackass!” you exclaimed, only fueling him and convincing him to do what he was thinking of. Aka, cannonballing right in front of you. The water that you just rubbed out of your eyes was splashed back at you, successfully ticking you off. Jaemin popped back up with a grin, shaking his head to get the wet hair out of his eyes. 

“Are you happy now that you threw me in?” you asked, lightly splashing at him. 

“Very,” he admitted, the smirk not leaving his face. 

“Is my misery funny to you?” you fired back, hands landing on your hips. 

“Very,” he repeated, smirking even bigger now. Reaching your breaking point, you swam over to him and quickly dunked him under a tiny bit before he could react. He came back up with a significantly smaller smirk, mumbling something along the lines of, “I probably deserved that, to be honest.” 

“Uh, you think?” you jabbed, swimming away to the deep end. You floated there on your back, staring up at the sky and smiling at the stars. In that moment, you felt complete peace. In all honesty, your life was pretty nice. Aside from that awkward, not knowing where you two were in a relationship with you and your best friend. 

Speaking of him, said best friend came swimming over to you and looked over at you, an unknown gleam in his eyes. He rested his chin on his hands on the side of the pool, looking over at you with admiration. You stopped floating and looked back at him, scanning his face for any signs about what was going on inside his head. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, genuinely curious about what was going through his mind. You used to be so good at telling what he was thinking about, able to communicate with each other with just a glance. Somewhere in senior year, though, he became a little more… hesitant, to say the least, when it came to sharing his inner thoughts. At first it hurt, but then it made you take a step back and reevaluate things. If you were being one hundred percent transparent, the same day that Mark asked you to prom with a dramatic sign in his shaking hands, a nervous lilt in his voice, was the day you came to terms with your feelings for Jaemin. ‘Will you…. Will you go to prom with me?’ Mark had asked, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead from being so anxious about confessing his feelings and having them be so on display in front of his peers. You so vividly remember thinking, ‘I am in love with Jaemin,’ but stubbornly saying yes to Mark. It’d be a huge lie to say you didn’t think Mark was a sweetheart, with his boy next door aura and guitar playing and innocent church boy vibes, but he just… didn’t have your heart. Your heart belonged to the boy you grew up with, the boy you hung out with on the playground in elementary school, teased in middle school for his peculiar interests, and who you had so desperately wished would have asked you to prom instead. 

“You,” Jaemin simply replied, sending your heart aflutter. He really knew how to mess with your feelings. 

Quirking an eyebrow, you kicked off the wall of the pool and swam to the shallow end again, fight or flight kicking in against your will. You weren’t one to run from your problems, per se, but for the past couple of months, you had worked so hard  to not let your true feeling show and tarnish your relationship. For fuck sake, you had been best friends since as long as you could remember. Every big event in your life, Jaemin was always there. The last thing you wanted to do was to fuck it all up because of your selfish feelings. (It’s worth pointing out, I think, that those are feelings you couldn’t help.)

“All good things, I hope,” you called out, not having to look over your shoulder to know he was already making his way back to you. 

“Very confident of yourself, aren’t you?” Jaemin shot back, a teasing tone lacing his words. You let out a tiny giggle, saying, “Look at me, how can I not be? I am me, after all. You should be grateful I’m even gracing your presence.” He made it too easy, sometimes. But at least he was able to bounce off you, playing with your humor. 

“You’re right,” he told you, surprisingly serious. That got you to look over your shoulder at him finally, spinning around to stand in front of him. The expression on your face was essentially one big question mark, not expecting to find him standing there with his heart on his sleeve, completely vulnerable to you. 

It was common for Jaemin to be so open with you, but this was a different kind of open…. His expression was something you’d never been shown by him before. 

“Are you finally going to tell me what you’re thinking about?” you asked, hands itching to find purchase on his chest, or his arms, or run through his hair. Every nerve in your body yelled out at you to do something, touch him, but you fought it. After all, your relationship could have been destroyed with one touch, one impulse decision, one sentence, three words. 

“Are you sure you want me to?” he whispered, peering down at you through his lashes. The lashes that you had always admired, been so jealous of, but somewhere along the way started to wonder what it felt like to feel them on your skin as you two kissed. 

“Why not?” you jokingly breathed out, dry humor disguising the gravity of it all. For the longest time, you had been so caught up in covering your true feelings to salvage your relationship that you forgot that Jaemin had the exact same power you did; one sentence and he could destroy the fourteen years of friendship you had. 

“I am in love with you,” he gushed, that statement coming out in a rush. He brought his hands to brush some of the hair out of your face, and the tremor gave away how nervous he was, but the strong look in his eyes stood as contradictory. Gazing into his eyes, you finally placed what that unknown gleam he that always had was. It was the same one you had when you looked at him. 

“I know that me saying this jeopardizes everything we have, and I’d hate for one sentence to ruin what we have, what we’ve known the entire time we’ve known each other,” he told you, voicing exactly your own concerns. Wow. “But I feel like I can’t go on pretending anymore.” Again, wow. Despite the seriousness of the situation at hand, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that left you. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, hands finally placing themselves on his chest. Jaemin looked down at you in confusion, having laid his true feelings out for you to only laugh. “I’m not laughing at you, dear God I’m not, I just…. You put into words everything I’ve been feeling for months now,” you clarified, meeting his gaze, a small smile on your face. “If I’m being honest, as cliche as it sounds, I’ve been fighting the same battle in my mind for months now. I actually only went to prom with Mark to try to get over you, because I was scared to face my feelings for you head on. I didn’t want to ruin what we had,” you admitted, cupping his face in your hands. The blush dusting his cheeks ignited a warmth in your chest, the feeling spreading. 

“God, are we stupid,” Jaemin said, his hands resting on your hips and pulling you closer to him. 

“I know, we are such dumbasses sometimes. I guess it was meant to be,” you replied, getting the nerve to do what you had dreamed of for the longest time. Standing up on your tiptoes, you connected your lips with his. Even though he tasted like chlorine (and you were sure you did, too), you wouldn’t have changed anything in the slightest. 

At that moment, everything was right. The stars aligned, the cosmos was in your favor, everything was as it was supposed to be. You both smiled into the kiss, so incredibly relieved that it was finally happening. Breaking away, you both kept your foreheads together and lightly laughed, eye contact being held still. 

“I guess we owe Chenle a thank you,” you said, lacing your fingers through Jaemin’s. 

“Yes, we do,” he hummed in agreement. You wished the moment could have lasted forever, but the headlights of a park security guard’s car put an end to the dreamlike moment. 

“Fuck,” you two hissed at the same time, jumping into action. 

“The thanks can wait until we get out of here without getting in trouble.”

[petri808]

Mirror’s of the Soul

Hau’oli la Hanau!  Happy Birthday!  @dark0angel13  Hawaii misses you ;)

Based on the folklore of a “dog-man” in Hawaii called the Kaupe.  Spun to be a werewolf AU lol, but with a twist.  The Kaupe was used in the DC tv show Legends of Tomorrow.  It was pointed out to me that Lucy’s character reminded them of character from Witcher 3 as well lol.

~~~~~ Nalu AU one-shot

Lucy had heard the wild rumors of the dog-man of Nu’uanu Valley, but she chalked it up to Hawaiian folklore.  These islands were full of such supernatural tales, and as a transplanted college student, seemed more like ghost stories intended to keep children from misbehaving.  She hadn’t heard of any actual werewolves confirmed in the last few centuries, and this was probably not a real case.  As far as she was concerned, superstitious hocus-pocus wasn’t going to keep her from hiking in the valley.  It’s lush rainforests, waterfalls, or Pali cliff overlooks were stunning, especially near sunset or sunrise.  A slice of nature surrounded by a growing metropolis.  

While the professor droned on at the front of the lecture hall, one of her closest friends slides into the seat next to her.

“You’re late Natsu,” she whispers, “class started 20 minutes ago.”

“Did I miss much?” the young man retorts.  Lucy shakes her head.  “Then I’m not late at all,” he grins back.

She rolls her eyes but can’t help a chuckle from escaping.  “Got any plans this weekend?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” he shifts in his seat, “but should be free Sunday.”

“How about you take me on a Dave ‘N Busters date Sunday so I can kick your ass at RD again.”

“You’re on!”

The next morning, Lucy awakens to perfect outdoor weather.  Balmy breezes lightly shifting her curtains and blue skies as far as the eye could see.  It seemed her roommate hadn’t made it back to their dorm in the night, probably staying the weekend with her boyfriend off campus.  Lucy sighs, and turns on her bed facing the window, maybe one day she’ll be able to do the same.  Yeah sure, Hell might freeze over before Natsu saw her in that way.  He was the best of friend that any could be, but no matter how many times she threw subtle hints or flirted with him, it all seemed to go right over his head.  Oh well, the times they spent together sufficed, but for now the valley was calling her name.

Not only did she like simply being surrounded by the peace and tranquility the forest could provide, it also served as a perfect, distraction free place to write her stories. Notebook, extra pens, fully charged laptop, trusty outdoor blanket, lunch, and ready to go, she ascends the Lulumahu Falls trail.  It was only a 2-mile hike round trip, but unlike some of the other trails in the area, this one cut through a bamboo grove and wasn’t one of the official paths.  As such, traffic tended to be lighter with fellow hikers opting for the maintained trails instead.

She reaches the end of the line and finds a shady area with large flat boulders to sit on.  Thank goodness for the recent sunny weather.  The trail had been mud-free, humidity was lower, and the air was crisp.  Lucy takes out her laptop, balancing it on her thighs and gets to work, letting the sounds of the forest send her into a rhythm.  Her words flowed forth like the gentle burbling of the nearby stream of the same namesake.  Hands gliding across the keyboard like the chirping birds around her.  Every now and again there was a crackle of a falling branch, or footsteps of a fellow nature seeker, but she paid these no mind, her characters keeping her enthralled.

It was great when ideas came to her so easily.  The infamous writers block plagued her from time to time, but not today, and it wasn’t until the light was growing dim that she realized how long she’d been in the writing zone.  Oh crap!  It may still be warm for fall, but the sun also set quicker in these later months.  She checks the time on her phone and guestimates another hour tops before she needed to get out of there.  Alright, this chapter was almost finished, she could make it!

She didn’t make it.

And by the time she’d stumbled into what she assumed was the Kaniakapupu Ruins, it was dark, cell phone coverage was nil, and it was growing a bit chilly.  Thank goodness for her blanket!  Lucy had two options, keep trying to find her way out through unmarked trails and risk getting more lost, or staying put until morning.  The clear skies were in her favor and the bright harvest moon chased away some of the darkness.  She groans and finds a decent rock to plop onto, guess she’ll just hunker down for the night.  

About a half mile away, deeper into the Nu’uanu valley, something catches the scent of the lone female, but that wasn’t good, for he recognized the scent.  ‘What is she doing here and on this night of all nights?!’  He came here to hide during this phase of the month, an ancient calling against his bloodline to guard the heiau of Kaheiki.  Legend has it, his ancestor had impregnated a human female shortly before being killed by a chief from the island of Hawaii, and to atone for that progenitor’s misdeed’s, a descendant was born as a Kaupe every hundred years or so to guard the heiau of the priest that helped to stop it’s rampage.

A thousand years later, it was Natsu’s bad luck that this curse fell upon his generation and with puberty came the confirmation.  He tried consulting the most knowledgeable kahuna’s and priests he could find in the hopes of breaking the curse, but they all told him the same thing, this was his ancestors atonement and only the gods could see fit to change that.  Yeah, well his family had been punished enough for something they hadn’t even done.  It wasn’t fair in this modern era to keep suffering like this.  All he wanted to do was settle down some day like a normal person, but who would want a freak like him?

Natsu’s worries were confirmed the moment he crept up to the ruins and sees Lucy sitting on a rock all bundled up.  With his keener eye sight, he can see her hiking back pack near her feet and puts two and two together that she must have gotten lost.  He could only imagine how cold she must be with nothing more than a light blanket to stay warm with.  At least his fur helped with that, but it was still another 10 more hours before the sun will rise.  Natsu paces as he weighs his options.  Great, so what should he do?  He couldn’t leave her all alone.  But if he made his presence known it might scare the wits out of her.  

He fails to realize that Lucy is now staring in his direction.  It was strange at first the mixed scent of Natsu and canine.  She couldn’t see him through the darkness but knew he was out there somewhere, but putting the clues together and it wasn’t a total shock.  Lucy groans internally at the irony.  The man had been keeping a secret, though she was no better.

“Natsu,” she lets out an exasperated exhale and stands up.  “You might as well come out I know you’re there.”  

That was impossible!  How could Lucy know that he was there in the first place, and second, he wasn’t some random person!  He hears her sigh.  

“Natsu, I can pick up on your scent, now please just come out.”

With a lot of trepidation, he steps beyond the tree line into the clearing.  “Lucy… but how??”

“Just come closer,” she sits back on her rock, “we both have a lot of explaining to do.”

Okay things were getting a little weird, and considering he was the werewolf, to think this was all really strange was… Weird!  No one outside of his family had ever seen him in this form because he’d done well to stay completely hidden from humans, and even though clearly this woman knew it was him, Natsu was still hesitant to let Lucy see him for what he was.  It was also a bit unnerving how unfazed she seemed to be.  He finds a fallen log about 10 feet away from her and sits down on the edge of it.  If he needed to take off again, it would only take mere seconds to do so.

Lucy adjusts the blanket around her body, then props her head with her hand against her knee.  “I assume you are confused?”  Natsu nods.  “Back home, my family hails from a long line of hunters…. Creature hunters.”  She tips her head, “I remember my mom telling me how my great, great, grandfather immigrated to America to establish a line of Heartfilia’s in the new world.  I think it’s silly and I moved here to get away from it all because I didn’t want to continue the tradition.”  An exasperated sigh escapes her lips.  “How ironic that I run into one so easily.”

“That still doesn’t make sense.  How did you know it was me?”

She taps her nose.  “I can track.  Look I know it seems strange, and it’s not normal for a human to do that so easily.  How do I explain it…  Somewhere in my family line, an ancestor was imbued with a few abilities.  I can’t see in the dark, which is why I’m stuck here, but an enhanced olfactory system allows me to detect scents, especially inhuman ones.”

“And, what do creature hunters do exactly?” his voice filled with an air of hesitancy.

“In the old days, they hunted to kill.”

Natsu tenses up and leans back, “should I leave?”

Lucy just waves her hand, “I came here to Hawaii to get away from that life.  Just wanted to be normal, ya know, but it seems I can’t run away from it either.”  She shivers as a breeze funnels through the clearing.

“Are you cold Lucy?  I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket or anything and I can’t leave the area till morning.”

“Why not?  In fact,” she pats the area next to her, “come closer and tell me your story.  It’s only fair since I shared mine.”

“I--I really don’t like anyone seeing me like this, you’re the first outside of my family to.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you and I don’t care what you look like.  I know you’re still you.”  Natsu shakes his head.  “Suit yourself.”  Lucy stands up, gathers the blanket around her and trudges over.

“Wait, what are you doing!” Natsu scrambles to his feet, tripping, and falling backwards over the log with a thud.

She rushes over to help him up, “Are you okay?!”

He rubs the back of his head, “I’ve got a hard head,” he winces, “more my pride that got hurt.”

Lucy chuckles, “see,” she pulls him to his feet, “should’a just stayed still.”

After getting him to come back to the rock with her, Lucy pulls her feet into a cross-legged position. “Alright, now spill.”

With a deep exhale, Natsu lets the words flow.  Everything he knows about his family, the curse, and what it’s like to be a Kaupe….  

All the while Lucy sits quietly not wanting to interrupt him.  She’d heard other tales of werewolves, old legends and such, including the idea of a curse causing the transformation.  Though this was the first time she’d heard of a curse carrying on through a bloodline before.  Guess, there is a first time for everything.  The tale he told was heartrending.  Their family’s ancestor may have been cursed because of a cold-blooded killer nature, but the man sitting next to her was nothing like that.  Natsu would give you the shirt off his back if you were in need and he always made her feel safe, especially at night.  If only there was a way to break the curse.    

Having determined for herself what kind of soul lay behind his Olivine hues, the longer she stared at him, it occurred to her that Natsu… wasn’t that bad looking in this condition.  Hawaii didn’t have wolves so did that make him more of a Weredog?  Not that she truly knew what a werewolf or weredog was supposed to look like since old tales differed on appearance.  Some depicted them as more human with canine features, others as more canine-like and barely human anymore.  Almost all of the stories described large fangs and claws dripping with blood, no ability to discern right from wrong or with any human consciousness left.  Boy were they wrong in this case!  Natsu was fully aware of himself and more scared than she was.  

His human fangs did look a bit longer than normal, his eyes still green but more canine-esque, with claws on his fingers and toes.  Tufts of fur covered the parts of his body that she could see, but he wore a t-shirt and baggy pants, so it wasn’t much.  A tail was definitely coming out of his lower back with pointy ears growing through his pink head hair.  Lucy tips her head, those ears were really cute!  She wondered what he would do if she rubbed them…

“Ahem.  Are you even paying attention anymore?!”

“Huh?”  Lucy shakes her head.  “Sorry,” her face flushes and she’s glad it’s too dark to see it.  “Curiosity and all.”

“I can’t let you touch them, so don’t even think about it.”

“Touch what?”

Natsu rolls his eyes, “my ears that you’ve been staring at for a solid 5 minutes.”

“Oh, why not,” she pouts.

“Because they are sensitive.”  Okay that was a semi-lie.  They were sensitive but rubbing them made him feel good in a provocative manner.  “So, as I was saying, we have no idea how to break the curse, no one in the family ever knows who in the next generations will become the next one, but it usually happens when the current Kaupe is close to death.”

“Is this why you’ve never tried to make a move on me?”

Well that was blunt!  “Um, I guess, yeah…” he scratches his head, “wh-what makes you think I would have?”

Lucy shrugs her shoulders a little sad by his response, “wishful thinking, I guess.  Anyways, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me Natsu.”

“Y-you know Lucy,” he averts his eyes to the ground, “if I had… asked… what would you have answered?”

“Yes,” she turns his chin back and smiles, “I do like you, if that wasn’t already obvious.”  Chuckling, “I just figured you only saw me as a friend.”

He takes a leap, “what about now, even after knowing this about me?”

“Hmm,” Lucy leans against him, resting her head on his furry shoulder, “the huntress and the werewolf,” she chuckles, “it sounds like a movie plot, but,” she looks up and smiles, “yeah, I’d still like to be your leading lady.”

[zenithlux]

Cadence CH 4

Catch up on the story here!

I’ve gotta keep the calm before the storm, I don’t want less, I don’t want more Must bar the windows and the doors To keep me safe, to keep me warm

Head Above Water - Avril Lavigne

While Aki was only a few blocks away, Dante’s endless chatter made the walk feel miles longer. Vergil didn’t quite understand it. His brother had always been a talker, even as a child. Most of the time, Vergil simply ignored his ramblings, but Roxy was responding to everything. And that didn’t make much sense either, as she was clearly embarrassed and still in pain. Every few sentences, she’d suck in a sharp breath, regain her thoughts, and finish with a much quicker answer than she probably wanted. 

And, as much as Vergil wanted to ignore both of them… his mind wouldn’t let him. Because Dante was asking all the right questions, and that bothered Vergil more than the chatter. 

“So he was a gift from your father?” Dante said.

“Yep,” She said. “Tenth birthday.”

“So your dad worked with demons or…?”

“He studied them, yeah,” She said. “His best friend was an old demon witch doctor.”

“Is that so?”

“Diadona,” She said. “We still talk now and again.”

“What about demons interested him?”

“Dad believed that he could harness demonic energy to heal others,” she said. Another sharp breath, but this time, she continued as if it hadn't happened. “Since most demons have much stronger healing factors than humans, my father was testing the possibility of using blood to cure certain illnesses or even transplants to save a person’s life.”

“Transplants?” Vergil said. Now that was something he hadn’t heard of. The idea of implanting a piece of a demon into a human seemed… peculiar. It wasn’t like his and Dante’s devil forms that they could slip in and out of with little effort. This was figuring out how to integrate demonic organs into an incompatible host. “Was he successful?”

“On a very small scale,” She said. “I can’t recall any human tests, but he had been working with primates around the time of his death so…” Her eyes fell to Dante’s shoulder. “I was hoping I’d get his work as part of the inheritance, but it all vanished before I could see it for myself. Diadona was furious, and blamed my mother. But mother blamed me for… well…” She paused. “It’s too long of a story for this walk.”

“Naaah we get it,” Dante said with a light shrug. Roxy winced, and Vergil noticed an actual spasm in her lower back. Regular humans wouldn’t have seen it. But when Vergil’s eyes locked with Dante’s for the briefest of moments, he knew he had felt something too. “We don’t talk about our pops very often either.”

Vergil bristled at that. He expected the questions to start the second that sentence left his brother’s lips. Who’s that? Where is he? Do you know? On and on and on... He could think of dozens on his own. But, Roxy’s curt nod and quiet smile caught him completely off-guard. “I’m glad I got to spend the time with him that I did. He told all kinds of amazing stories.” She paused again. “I guess it helped me see the world a bit better.”

“What was his favorite story?” Dante said as they rounded the corner. Aki had migrated to the rooftop at the end of the block, staring down into a plaza. Vergil heard the faint sounds of lesser demons and knew this agonizing walk would be…

“He met Sparda when he was a teenager.”

Vergil nearly choked. Dante burst into laughter. Roxy blinked, confused. “Is something wrong?”

“What did he think of him?” Dante said. 

Roxy tilted her head in thought. “He said he was in awe at first, and really nervous. But Sparda was welcoming, and answered all of his questions.” She shrugged. “He only saw him once, but I think that’s what convinced my father to pursue that line of research.” 

“Did you meet him?”

“Sparda?” She shook her head. “Father said he disappeared about 15 years before I was born.”

Vergil assumed that was around the time their parents met, as Sparda had chosen to seclude the family in an attempt to protect them. It had worked for a while, but…

“How old are you?” Vergil said.

Dante practically screeched to a halt before whirling on his brother. “Vergil!” He said with a disappointed click of his tongue. Roxy winced after another, small spasm. This time, however, Dante didn’t notice. “You never ask a lady her age!”

“32,” Roxy said.

Dante groaned, glaring over his shoulder before he turned back around. “You can’t let him get away with that.”

“It’s a simple answer.”

“Well sure, but...”

“Enough,” Vergil said as he blinked to the end of the path. As expected, a group of three empusas were there, drinking an absurd amount of blood. Demonic, Vergil thought. The smell was undeniable. The red sacs on their backs were engorged with fluids, but Vergil could see swirls of black beneath; an excess of demonic blood. They wouldn’t last long. 

“Weaklings,” Vergil muttered. 

“Works for me,” Roxy slid gracefully off Dante’s back. She flinched as she landed, but walked past them both with confidence. Again, the twins exchanged glances. Except this time, Vergil wasn’t certain what was going through Dante’s mind. He was still smiling, but his eyes were clouded in thought. Was he concerned with her well-being, or lost in some other random idea that had nothing to do with the situation?

Vergil shook the thought off. No use considering it. 

“So, sunshine,” Dante said. "What's the plan?" Vergil glared at him, and Dante rolled his eyes. “Why did you of all people respond to that?”

Vergil huffed and looked away. Roxy held her hand up and whistled; a loud, short sound that echoed more than Vergil expected. The empusas’ heads shot up in confusion. A streak of purple shot off the rooftop above them, and Aki chirped once as he dove straight for her hand. A milli-second before they collided, he vanished in a flicker of bright light. In his place was a gray bow that rippled with demonic energy. Purple light swirled around the strings in an endless pulse of energy between both sides of the weapon. Metallic, purple and gray feathers fanned out from the otherwise simple grip. It was much larger than Vergil expected, given the small stature of the demon that had turned into it. But Roxy held it with ease, unbothered by the fact that it was only about a foot shorter than she was. And, to be entirely fair, it was less ridiculous than most of Dante’s devil arms, so it really wasn’t all that fantastical.

The fact that she could summon it with such ease despite her weakened state was infinitely more interesting. 

No, He chided himself. Not interesting. Insightful.

He imagined Griffon snorting at that. “Whatever you say, Shakespeare.”

“Damn,” Dante said. “That’s pretty nice.”

Roxy chuckled as she snapped her fingers. A trio of arrows appeared. A couple of empusas scrambled away. One just stood there, either too full of blood to move, or too brainless to realize what was happening. “I do apologize,” Roxy said as she nocked all three arrows with little effort. The bow shifted to accommodate as her fingers wrapped around the strings. “I can’t show you much today, but I’d love to join you again sometime.” 

As she pulled the strings back, she tilted the bow gently to the left. Energy pulsed along her arms and vanished as it reached her head. One quiet breath later, she let go. The arrows shot forward at blinding speeds, each one darting in separate directions. The first empusa died before it had time to react, the arrow piercing the sac of blood. The other two shrieked, but they too were impaled within seconds. Roxy snapped her fingers and the arrows pulsed with electricity. The creatures exploded. Demonic blood burst in all directions, congealing in the all too familiar red orbs. They hovered for a brief moment, before darting straight at Roxy. 

Dante’s eyes widened. “Wait…”

Vergil grabbed Dante’s arm, yanking him back before he could get in the way. When the orbs reached her, they vanished, just as they did for Vergil himself. And as the last of them swirled into her body, her back straightened, her shoulders relaxed, and Vergil heard a content sigh as she stretched her arms out for the first time that night. A quiet pop echoed back, but it only seemed to add to her relief. “Much better,” She said as she tossed the bow into the air. It transformed back into Aki within seconds, and the demon landed on her shoulder with a purr of satisfaction. 

“Y-you…” Dante stopped short, shook his head, and continued with that not-quite-at-ease-but-I’m-trying smile. “You absorbed them?”

Vergil resisted the urge to roll his eyes by crossing his arms in disapproval instead. “That part was quite clear, brother.”

“But I thought humans couldn’t do that.”

Roxy rubbed at her neck, breaking their gazes. “Technically,” She said. “Aki’s absorbing it. It just looks like I am.”

While that excuse seemed to satisfy Dante, Vergil’s eyes narrowed. A devil arm absorbing energy was plausible. But using that same energy to heal her? Impossible. At least, it wasn’t something he’d ever heard of. Humans couldn’t tolerate demon blood. Most who tried either went mad or turned into demons themselves. But there was nothing demonic about her, as far as he could tell. There would be more obvious signs. Her heartbeat would be different. She wouldn’t have such random aches and pains. She’d smell different. She’d probably act differently…

“Earth to Vergil!”

He blinked once before glancing at his brother. “Yes?”

Dante shook his head. “What world did you just go to? ‘Cuz it sure wasn’t this one.”

Vergil didn’t answer him. “Are we done?” He said, turning back toward Devil May Cry before either of them responded. “As fascinating as that display was, I have things to do.” He dripped that sentence in as much sarcasm as he could muster. Still, it wasn’t enough, for Roxy simply beamed at him with pride. His heart skipped in what he assumed was exasperation. “We’re going…” 

Demonic energy swept over him before he finished that sentence. A portal snapped open behind him, and a large pack of empusas spilled out in a chaotic mess. Dante sighed dramatically as he summoned his Devil Sword and propped it up on his shoulder. “Time to take out the trash,” He said. Roxy’s eyes widened for a brief moment before she yanked her gaze away. “I’ve got some magic of my own, Sunshine,” Dante said with a grin as he clapped his hand on her shoulder. 

She gasped in pain as her back spasmed. She stumbled away, fumbling for the closest wall. Except she didn’t make it, crumbling to her knees only a few steps away. “Dammit,” she hissed, hands hitting the ground. “I wasn’t ready for that.” Aki chirped in a panic, rubbing his head along her lower back as if trying to heal her. Instead, she convulsed one last time before rolling sideways, arms stretched as she stared blankly at the sky. 

Dante stared at her, dumbstruck. “What the hell…?”

She scowled at nothing. “Don’t mind me,” She muttered. “Just figured it was a good time to rest.”

“Riiight,” Dante said as he took many large steps back. “I’ll let you take care of her then, Verge.”

“What? This is your mess.” But his brother had already leaped into battle with a whoop of delight. The waves of empusas were seemingly endless, but this was child’s play to him. Vergil wouldn’t waste his time fighting over it. 

Instead, there was the problem of the woman lying at his feet. 

“So…” She said, eyes flickering toward him. Except he was out of her view, and she gave up within a few seconds. “I’m currently looking to hire a semi-friendly escort back to safety if you’re up for it. I’ll even pay extra since you’ll have to carry me.”

“Carry you?” Vergil said. “And ruin your rest?”

She sighed in defeat. “This street isn’t the most comfortable place in the world. I’d much prefer a bed."

Vergil glanced at his brother, but Dante was too engrossed in the fighting to care. And when a much larger empusa queen stepped out, Vergil knew he would be busy for quite a while. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” He muttered. 

“I mean you could leave me here,” Roxy said. “But then I’d probably get eaten, and that’s on you.”

“Technically,” Vergil said. “This is Dante’s fault.”

“Also true,” She said. “But I have a feeling you may be a little more careful with such a delicate situation.”

Vergil couldn’t decide if she was naive or painfully accurate. His mind settled on the former. “What is this strange illness of yours?”

“Long story,” She said. 

“We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Unfortunately, no,” she said, wincing. Aki hopped onto her chest and pressed his forehead to her chin. “I’ll probably fall unconscious in about… two minutes.”

“... You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

Vergil rubbed at his temples, trying to shove away his irritation. It didn’t work. “And how long will you be unconscious for?”

“A couple of hours,” She said. “It’s only my legs that don’t work, by the way. I can hold on to most anything with enough warning.”

With another, almost longing glance at his brother, Vergil sighed. He lifted her with ease, and was almost amused by the shocked look on her face. “I know I don’t weigh much,” She said wearily. “But I didn’t know I was that light.” 

Vergil said nothing, trying to ignore the painful thudding against his ribcage. If she expected him to say something else, she didn’t show it. Instead, she curled her head toward his chest as her hand half-heartedly clung to the lapel of his jacket. “Thank you,” She said, her eyes fluttering. “Hopefully next time, I’m not so much of a burden.”

“Next time?” Vergil echoed. But it was Roxy who returned the silence, as she fell asleep within seconds. “Infuriating,” Vergil muttered. 

“But at least now you’re enlightened!” 

If Vergil could strangle the bird, he would. But the fragmented memory cackled before slipping back into his subconscious where it belonged, leaving him to trudge back to Devil May Cry. 

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

Roxy left around three in the morning, and Vergil didn’t try to stop her. She’d been quiet enough, after all. If he slept even halfway like a normal person, he wouldn’t have noticed. He did, however, wander downstairs the moment he felt Aki’s presence fade away. It was the only time he could get Dante’s miserable amount of paperwork done in relative peace. It was also a good time to think. Or maybe stop thinking. He wasn’t sure which one was more important at the moment. 

But as he reached Dante’s desk, he stopped, bewildered. For there, sitting between three mounds of paperwork, was check and a bookmark.

His mind went blank for far too long before he picked it up. It was different from the last one. There was no glossy finish or smooth, plastic covering. Instead, this one was made from thick paper and laminated. The picture - a water-colored, sunset sky over mountains and a lake - looked to be hand-painted. Then, there were the words painted in perfect cursive with black ink; the same calligraphy that Vergil recognized from the cover of the book she’d given him.

Hold infinity in the palm of your hands, And eternity in an hour.

He flipped the bookmark in his hand and wasn’t surprised to see her phone number again. This time, however, she had signed her name: Roxanna. Had she made it herself? It was possible. The paint, while dry, smelled fresh, and the cursive on the front matched the name on the back. But that just confused Vergil even more. Did she often hold onto bookmarks for random people? Why would she give him another one after he’d ignored the first? What was her goal? Her plan? Did she even have one? Was he…

“So are you going to call her this time?”

Vergil flinched, but that was the only startled reaction Dante would ever get from him. “What are you talking about?” He said as he went to tuck the bookmark away. But Dante plucked it out of his hand before he had a chance. 

“Damn,” He said, followed by a low whistle. “That’s a pretty impressive second chance.”

Vergil snatched it back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never messaged her, right?” Dante said as he crossed his arms. “Guessing you ran into her on your way home or something?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You still haven’t used that number.”

“Again,” Vergil said. “Why does it…?”

“At least put it in your phone.”

“What?”

“The number.” Dante shrugged. “You’re clearly interested. At least a tiny bit.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“You carried her back,” Dante said. “Instead of asking me to do it.” 

Vergil said nothing. Dante chuckled. “You want to be a part of this world, right? Here’s your chance.” He pointed to the bookmark. “A friend.”

“A friend,” Vergil echoed. 

“Yep,” Dante sighed wistfully. “My big bro’s growing up.”

Vergil rolled his eyes, but quickly realized how tense he was. His grip on Yamato was so tight his knuckles had turned white, and the muscles in his shoulders were practically shaking from the tension. But why? What was this feeling? Anger was his first guess, but he hadn’t been angry at Dante’s teasing in months. So why…

“Don’t be afraid,” Dante said.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then put that number in your phone.”

Vergil stared at him. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Dante watched him expectantly, tapping his foot in something between amusement and annoyance. Again, Vergil found himself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She had proven him both right and wrong on multiple occasions on the same day. She was a weak, injured, clueless woman who would likely drag him down. Yet, she was strong enough to wield a devil arm with incredible precision and absorbed demonic power as he and Dante did. She clearly trusted people way too easily… but she hadn’t given up on him.

“What would V do?” Dante said.

Vergil frowned, but his eyes fell back on the bookmark. Did he even know the answer to that question? V’s memories were there, of course. Always tugging on his mind whenever he tried to make such decisions. But they were rarely clear. At least, not in moments like this. Though he supposed that he hadn’t had many moments like this, so that wasn’t fair. There hadn’t been any hard decisions since returning from the Underworld. Everything just… happened around him. He took the jobs. Sent the money where it needed to go. Failed to get along with his son. Argued with his brother. That was life. 

But surely that’s not all you want?

Vergil held back a sigh and threw the bookmark at Dante. His brother snatched it out of the air before it hit - a shame, really - and raised an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do with it?”

Vergil glared at him. “I do not… possess that knowledge.”

Dante snorted. “Dramatic as always.” He tossed his own cellphone into the air in a needless display of something and spun it twice as it landed between his fingers. His was much different than Vergil’s. Whereas Dante had gone for every upgrade under the sun - touch screen, fingerprint scanner, and a million other things Vergil didn’t care about - Vergil’s was simple. A sliding phone with a keypad which was, arguably, still more than he needed. “So you open it,” Dante said as the screen flickered on. “And you find the button that says, “Contacts.” He wiggled his fingers under the phone as if summoning a demon. 

“Quit with the theatrics.”

“But that’s the best part!”

“Do you want me to do this or not?”

Dante rolled his eyes but walked him through the rest of the steps in the most business-like tone he could manage. And while it took a few minutes, as Vergil hadn’t really looked at the phone beyond answering the occasional call, he eventually figured it out. By the end, he was left staring at his nearly empty contact list: Dante, Morrison, Nero, Nico and…

Roxanna. 

He snapped the phone closed. “There,” He said. Dante stared at him in pure horror. Vergil twitched. “What?”

“You’re not gonna message her?”

“Why would I do that?”

“How do you think she’ll get your number, dumbass?”

Vergil bit back a response, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t thought that part through. But when he reached for the phone again, he hesitated. He did not, however, miss Dante’s not-so-subtle eye roll. “Just say ‘hello’ or ‘this is Vergil’ or ‘I’m the idiot that spent two weeks ignoring you’.” He grunted as a summoned sword careened into his shoulder, but grinned back as he put his hands on his hips, not bothering to remove it. “You know, something straight to the point. Just like you.”

Vergil’s eyes drifted back to the phone. And after another long moment of silence, in which his thoughts were both frustratingly chaotic and entirely unhelpful, he tucked it back in his pocket. “Later,” He said as he blinked to the stairs. Dante sighed behind him, and Vergil was certain he heard a muttered ‘you’re hopeless, bro’. But the older son of Sparda ignored him as he slid back into his room, locked the door, and grabbed a book to calm himself. His frown deepened when he realized which book he’d grabbed: her gift that he had yet to read. But it was the only book from his small collection that he hadn’t poured through yet. Her first bookmark slipped from the back, and his eyes fell to her number once again. 

Thank you. Hopefully next time, I'm not as much of a burden. 

Vergil's hand shifted toward his pocket but stopped short.

Why? 

Why are you so… infuriating? 

Frustrated, he set the book on the bed and teleported out the window, more interested in the random demons of Redgrave than his thoughts.

[punainenpuolukka]

Oh, the Thing with the Ghosts, the Boys, and the Car?

This is a weird one, a confession of sorts. A confession that I might come to regret come tomorrow (when I'll probably be watching the new episode). This time I truly can’t explain.

Part 3. I sort of like Bucklemming and I’m sorry about that

Look, I know that the overall consensus in this fandom, which is so divided and gets up on arms with the drop of a hat, is that Bucklemming is the worst. Even I think, say, and joke how Bucklemming is the worst. Repeatedly. Before and after a Bucklemming episode I think “Eh, it’s Bucklemming”. Recently, when season 12 reruns aired on TV here, around 2 am or so with double episodes to boot, I remember thinking that there was something deeply wrong with the episode and I couldn’t understand why it was so awkward and painful to watch, until I checked who wrote it, it was Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Lemming of course, and suddenly it all made so much more sense. People are reminded to lower their expectations before their episodes just so that there would be minimum amount of (collective) disappointment. We all know the drill pretty well, don’t you think?

The thing is, I don’t hate Bucklemming episodes. In fact, I quite like some of them.

No, don’t get me wrong, quite a few of Bucklemming episodes are bad, just flat out bad, there’s no excuse, but I still don’t hate any of them. They tend to be a bit thin on the subtext, they are funny but the humour is based on awkward situations and stereotypes stretched to extremes. A lot of things happen in a short amount of time both to their detriment as well as their advantage, as sometimes the story doesn’t have time to breath but at least it keeps the audience at the edge of their seat. Also, the revelations in their episodes are liked dropped anvils and so exceptionally blunt there is very little room for interpretation, which I occasionally appreciate since I’m dumb. Just so dumb. Quite like many Bucklemming episodes. In addition, even the episodes that I would consider to be poor in quality for them (and Supernatural as whole) tend to have at least one good thing, even if it sometimes is just the premise, which admittedly might not be their doing. Nonetheless, the overall quality of Bucklemming episodes I’ll watch them gladly, maybe with a little less attention than normal, but regardless for me my love for the whole show overrides cringe of their episodes any day. 

And Bucklemming episodes are plenty cringey. Like the bad kind of cringe that makes me wonder that even if the they wrote the episode, there were several people taking part of making the episode that went “I guess it’s okay”, and still nobody mentioned that maybe this is actually the worst idea (I’m referring to 8.15 Man’s Best Friend with Benefits, as in the one with witches and their familiars,  which writing-wise is not the worst, plotwise pretty solid if I recall, but the final product is just, um, calling it highly questionable is far too kind). Sometimes Bucklemming in combination with some directors (yes, I’m especially talking about Robert Singer, we all know why) somehow conjure up a legitimately bad episode of Supernatural consisting of multiple minor things that alone are not that bothersome but together ruin everything. You know, like killing a beloved character in a way that is not only remarkably horrific and cruel but also unnecessary, which leads to the question am I talking about Kevin, Charlie, or maybe Eileen? These episodes are the ones that make me ask “why, just why”, but I also tend to forget the truly terrible stuff pretty much by the end of the episode. It’s generally not important, or more accurately, the execution of it is not important, so I just don’t think about it unless someone mentions it. However the truly terrible stuff is discussed a lot. Of course it should be, critiquing is very important part of media consumption, but even then, sometimes it’s better to just let go. Just forget and move on.

Now that I’ve discussed why Bucklemming is bad, which, let’s be honest, was not necessary at all since we all know and didn’t even touch their creepy, rapey stuff, but I’m very insecure and felt I needed to agree with the consensus before I bring up my positive outlook on things and insist that not only Buckner and Ross-Lemming are capable writers, some of their episodes are not only very enjoyable but also actually quite good. Of course enjoyability is subjective, so there’s no guarantee that others think the same. Unfortunately, there is no time to go through all Bucklemming episodes, and not all of them are worth going through at all, since most of them are just ‘meh’, but regardless, I’d like to present some of my favourites.

8.03 Heartache

This is the episode of Supernatural I actively spend thinking the most. And it’s a lot. It highlights the tragedy of immortality and how you cannot really create connections with others because eventually they will wither away and die but you remain the same. Of course in this case the immortal Mayan athlete also had to sacrifice human hearts in exchange for his immortality, which his wife knew and seemed to accept so that they could be together, which raises the question of how she could close her eyes for so long to the atrocities her husband committed just so they could be together since she didn’t seem malicious at all, nor was she resentful of her husband taking his own life so suddenly. She seemed almost relieved that she didn’t have to worry for him anymore, and when her time comes she could rest in peace. Curiously, her husband was not really allowed to rest as the people who had gotten the organ transplants from him sort of continued his life and wanted to be immortal like him and get all the other benefits he had. It’s so tragic and twisted that what is the greatest gift you can give to a stranger corrupts them and what was supposed to save their lives eventually ruins them. The whole episode is a surprisingly original take on the immortal lover trope, and it doesn’t hurt that it does the patented Supernatural trick of mirroring single episode characters with the main ones, this time connecting the immortal athlete who died and Cas, also sort of immortal who “died” recently. 

10.16 Paint it Black

This episode is a very curious episode as whole. In a sense, it’s sort of average MoW episode with relatively strong plot but it has the sort of escalation that I appreciate greatly. I mean we’ve had so many vengeful ghosts that target the same kind of demographic, but there is something in this episode that tickles my fancy just right. Also, I cannot really describe the weird joyous horror when the ghost nun in the past cuts her finger so that her blood and bone can be ground up and used in her portrait. She seemed to do it with such glee that it’s a wonder that the painter didn’t see all the red flags in her behaviour (though he was an Italian man, an artist and full of himself, maybe girls cut off their body parts of for him nonstop). It was such a delight. In addition, Dean, who at the time had the Mark of Cain and was once again spiralling deeper into depression and desperation, visits confession and reveals that now that he is about to die (yeah, that doesn’t seem to stick, but I digress) he regrets not experiencing things perhaps for the first time. And we still don’t know what those things are.

An honorary mention goes to episode 1.13 Route 666, which is not really one of my favourites, but I also remember very little of it, other than the general description of it, which amuses me to no end: It’s the racist truck episode. It sounds so dumb, and it was, of course, but I have a fond memories of it regardless. Or maybe fond feelings since barely remember what happens in it. 

So, I like Bucklemming, sort of and on occasion, and I don’t think everything the dreadful duo writes is worth the derision they get. I’ve learnt to live with them, maybe it would help if others tried to live with them too, and accommodate their expectations and try to find the good things in the episodes instead of focusing on the bad ones. And if the Bucklemming episodes are a disappointment then they are. Move on. Life is already a disappointment, 40 minutes of disappointment won’t make it worse. Also, I really like the word ‘Bucklemming’, so that’s a plus, and a reason why repeat it constantly. Though I still wish that Bucklemming would just stop with the creeps.

[chimchiminiekookie]

Ghost in a Shell | 01

Summary: In the year 2049, premature deaths have been reduced to the highest degree with the introduction if the concept of cyber replacement. Damaged body parts could be replaced with cyber limbs, from its creation, the successful replacement of brain and the owner’s memories were the goal. All efforts to achieve the goal were all unsuccessful, until you, the first full cybernetic brain recipient met Jungkook.

Word count: 3,199

Paring: Jungkook x Reader

A/N:

In the year 2049, premature deaths have been reduced to the highest degree with the introduction if the concept of cyber replacement as first introduced by genius Kim Namjoon.

Damaged body parts could be replaced with cyber limbs, from its creation, the successful replacement of brain and the owner’s memories were the goal, a feat that Namjoon had researched a great number of years, after five years of little to no success, Kim Namjoon ultimately scrapped the idea of brain replacement with emotional ties attached, and resumed to his life now as a University graduate.

Those with cybernetic brains resumed their home lives, despite losing their memories and their emotions, while those with nowhere to go (which were a great many) were either kept at the laboratory or were let go to do the hard labor nobody else was willing to take.

You had no family, but you were also lucky enough not to be sent away.

The Jeons were a married pair of scientists who worked at the lab. Both of whom held high positions, through the modernization and expansion of the limbs and body parts that could be used. But they were what societh called sympathizers. There were a lot like them, but the loud ones were the ones who believed the only function of cyber replaced species belonged in the working class. Sympathizers were a group of people believing in the impossible integration of the cyber brained into everyday life. As their top priority was to continue the research Kim Namjoon had started so diligently on.

You awake to smoke greeting you in a round metallic room where a large portion was dedicated to a number of computer screens from every which way in the chamber you emerged from, the next thing you see are two individuals in white as they waved at you.

You step down from the chamber amd onto the platform where you look down at them from the angle. You tilt your head, “Salutations, I am 01001010000101. How may I assist you today?”

The man looks at the woman nervously, almost passively, who were these people?

The woman clears her throat, “Uhm, well it says here-” she tapos the wooden clipboard, “Your name is actually Y/N, according to this here data sheet, you’re the first person to receive a chip taking control of all functions of the brain.”

You nod stiffly, “That is affirmative-” you squint your eyes a the woman, “Ms. Jeon Somin.”

“How did you-?”

You take the sign of her silenced question to continue, “One precise tube from the computer connects me to the laboratory database. I am familiar with its information based from a mere glance as my cyberbrain was merely wading in the computers amd records of Creator Kim Namjoon’s company.”

“Do you remember anything about your old life?” The man cuts in.

You shake your head, “Searching… searching… searching… no record could be found on a former life. I am only able to recall the moment I was created, Mr. Jeon Junhyung.”

The two stare at each other, whispering.

“As a full disclosure, I am required to inform you that I know how to read lips.” You blink at them, “You wish to take me with you in order to integrate a more human behavior and to test your hypothesis of the development of the human brain around the machine until I regain my humanity through the 3.333333333333333336% chance that your hypothesis is correct.”

The man scratches the back of his neck, “Do you disagree with our decision?”

You go through the experiment approvals from the laboratory's database and shake your head, “Negative, according to the company files, this was a project in  the making from the beginning, if it is to help secure a better future for the company, then I can only agree.” you begin to walk down the stairs to the couple, “Where will K be staying?”

The short Jeon Somin laughs, “Oh honey! Where else but with our family?”

You blink a few times at the woman, family? What is this family? Is this the relationship between creator and output? If this is the case, Namjoon was your only creator, therefore your only family.

You tilt your head, “F-f-fa-mily?”

Mr. Jeon shrugs, “input the word ‘family’.” he starts to lead the way out of the round room, “It’s a bit small, as it’s just me, Somin, and Jungkook at home. However, with the only recent approval of the project, you might have to rely on Jungkook to teach you.”

You furrow your eyes, running a quick check on a Jeon Jungkook of two cybernetic scientists and what you find is a young boy, nearly the age of 11, in a jersey, “Sports? Possible connection to Jeon Jungkook.”

Ms. Jeon Somin stops in front of the door to the passenger seat of the car, “Yeah  he plays soccer, how'd you know?”

You sit in the back seat as the car starts, “I was able to run a simple background check based on the limited information I was given.” you click the seatbelt on as your stomach starts to churn all of a sudden, “I also have come to understand that the company, now under the control of Kim Seokjin, Namjoon’s older brother, is requiring the two of you to introduce the concept of cybernetic organs throughout the world which means you will not always be at your house. I shall properly care for the boy, Jeon Jungkook.”

Mr. Jeon Junhyung laughs nervously, “Well Y/N, that’s very kind of you, but we’re actually leaving you to him. He’ll be taking care of you.”

You blink at the man, “Researching… researching… researching.” your head snaps in the direction of Jeon Somin, “Data probability estimates a 1 in 50 chance that I will be properly cared for by the young boy Jeon Jungkook.”

Ms. Jeon Somin fidgets nervously, “Y/N, sweetie, about that habit you have of researching, we’d like it if you started lessening your use in order to help our cause that you can become part of society once again.”

“Command accepted, I shall lessen use of information gathering to only topics foreign to me.”

The car comes to a halt in front of a big enough house, not too extravagant, but not too small either, the correct housing for a familial unit of around 6-7 humans.

“You coming, Y/N?” the open door that Mr. Jeon has held open for you beckons like a call for freedom, whicn you take your first step out of, noticing the small tremble in your legs.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon Junhyung.”

“Ah, Y/N. You don’t have to call us by our whole names, just simply call me Somin, and my husband, Junhyung.” Somim grabs your hand and leads you inside, up the stairs to your room.

“You know, Junhyung and I were very nervous about taking you home.”

You squeeze her hand, “I understand, Somin. The induction of a completely foreign body into your house,ust be what my creator, his emotion on my predicament before the transplant as ‘terrified’. He input that the squeezing of the hand is a successful action to lessen the terror.”

She laughs quietly, “Well yes. That djd help, but we were only nervous because you weren't like the other units in the lab, you must mean a lot to the company… You were placed in a cryogenic sleep which means that this must have been your age when you were created. It just seems sad that your family never came for you.” she wipes her eyes.

You reach over to grab her wrist, “Somin, it seems you are leaking a liquid body fluid, shall I run a quick diagnosis on your current condition?”

She laughs again, patting your head, when she feels it, the scar behind your ear where the chip was implanted, “Goodness no! I am completely fine just happy that you're here with us.”

“Humans secrete liquid from their optic nerves when elated?” you tilt your head in confusion.

She shrugs, “Yeah, I mean I guess some but more so when they’re sad.”

“Mom? Dad told me to bring this up here. Is someone stayin-” A boy around the age of 18 finds his way to the room, “Oh.” he turns to Somin, “Is this her?” he points a finger in your direction.

Somin nods and jumps up and down vigorously, “Uh-huh! Isn’t she beautiful? Aren’t you excited?!”

He sets down the bag and seemingly heavy briefcase in front of you, “I guess, but like what did you get replaced? You look more human than cyborg to me.”

“Jeon Jungkook! That is a word not allowed in this house! She isn’t a cyborg-”

“It is quite fine, Somin. I do not feel offense.” you turn to the boy, “I do not know if I am feeling emotions, but my heart had sped up quite a bit possibly due to the fact that I was expecting an 11 year old boy to be Jeon Jungkook, this is my human integration feeling what I may only hypothesize as Surprise as my cyber brain tries to make sense of it.” You reach out a hand which he takes, “Greetings Jeon Jungkook, I am called Y/N. To answer your question, my optic nerves were replaced and my brain completely functions and thinks based on a chip implanted behind my ear and into my brain.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “You’re staying with my family?”

“Family is defined as Jeon Somin, Jeon Junhyung, and Jeon Jungkook. So in conclusion, I shall be staying with family.”

He looks over at Somin, “Did you two start her correctly? She isn’t familiar with basic terms.”

You look over at the two, talking about how they would start to help you adjust to normal life, was this ‘family’? What about Kim Namjoon? You notice Jungkook, still clad in his soccer uniform, his face had a smudge of dirt, while his hair was wet from sweat.

“Shall I bathe Jeon Jungkook?”

“Y-yahh! What the hell are you on about? He yells behind him in his scurry to hide his reddening face, he slams his door shut.

“Did I offend Jeon Jungkook?” You offer a quizzical look at Somin.

She pats your back, an action which has your body reacting to it by calming against her hand, “Well, how about we start with calling him Jungkook and not offering to bathe anyone hm? Ne’s just embarrassed.” She giggled into her hand, “Let’s start unpacking, shall we?”

“These… these are mine?” you examine the clothes, compared to the maroon hoodie and sweatpants you were currently wearing, “They are very feminine, quite full of character.”

Somin shrugs, “Well, you had a room back at the lab, we took everything in it and incorporated it here, these were the clothes left behind, along with this strange briefcase we haven’t even tried to open.”

You looked at the article of clothing so long, you tried to will yourself to remember something, anything, “This belonged to the me who was completely human.” you scan the items, trying to find even just a picture from perhals anything you had seen during the few months you were active when you first got made, however nothing came up.

You look over at Somin, quietly folding your clothes, as sh hummed quietly to herself. You clenched your fist, feeling nothing at what most humans would believe should be a sentimental moment. You were human, but all of your humanity had left you, leaving behind a ghost of your former self, one that you could not even remember.

“If it is something I cannot remember, it is something not worth recalling.” is all you simply say in a futile attempt to calm down a tugging in your heart that practically begged to be acknowledged.

You examined their positions sat at the table directly in front of you as you tried to mirror their movements to incorporate a more human like stance, rigidly, you clasped your hands together, setting them on top of the table and stared back at the married couple, completely ignoring all the food that was set in the center or the table.

“Using my parents as models for normal human behavior isn’t the best idea.” Jungkook comes down from the stairs, a towel hung around his neck as he rubbed one side of his hair with it vigorously as he took a seat next to you, “I mean look at them, next thing you know, their hands are gonna get dipped in the food from climbing the table to get a better look at you.”

“It’s just so amazing.” Mr. Jeon stares at you in complete awe, “We’ve been waiting for this day for so long that we don’t even know how to get started.”

You look over at Jungkook, drinking from his glass, which you also mirror with enthusiasm.

“No, wait. Here.” He grabs the glass from your hand, and pours in a clear liquid that you identify as H2O or its most common name, water.

He hands it to you, watching you down the content without pause, “After I hand it to you, you’re supposed to say thank you.”

You look from the glass to Jungkook, “I offer my gratitude.”

He snorts a laughter, “Just thanks is fine.”

You nod in his direction, “Understood.” You reach for the pitcher of water, ready to drink all of it.

“Wait!” Jungkook grabs your wrist, “You're supposed to put it in the glass first.”

“My apologies.” You make a quick scan on your current condition, “It appears that the re-introduction of water has reminded my brain of thirst. 0.32% of humanity restored.”

Mr and Mrs Jeon stare at each other in awe, “Kookie! You’ve done it already! 0.32% is already an improvement!” Somin jumps up to run to him and squish his cheeks between her palms, “I knew that I was right when I told your father that you should be the one to teach Y/N basic human interaction.”

He stared at his mother kn confusion, “Wait.” he pushes her hands off his cheeks, “I’m going to tech her? I never heard that part of the project.”

Somin retreats back to her seat slowly and nervously, “Ehem… well Kookie, we were hoping you could help-”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “By take care you mean you want me to teach her huh? Like have her tailing me at home.”

Junhyung grasps the back of his neck, rubbing it, “Well you see Jungkook, we were hoping you could help us a bit more. As much as we’d love to teach her, a new project we have in line at the lab is being especially endorsed by the company and that means-”

He sighs loudly, “And that means that you two will be gone, locked up in that lab for who know jlw long and you don't even have the time to give your full attention on this project you both asked for, let alone your kid.” He shrugs, “Well, what else can I do? It’s nothing new around here. In fact I’d be even more surprised if you two actually came home or are even just around when i need you to be.” He pushes his chair back loudly, walking away from the table, without even a second glance at Soin began crying.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Suspicions on Jeon Jungkook’s biological autonomy remains, despite recent analyzation,” you note to yourself out loud.

Junhyung leads Somin upstairs and comes back down to fix up the kitchen area, “ You know,” he calls out all of sudden with a chuckld, “He’s not a robot.”

You turn your head towards him, “ I apologize, perhaps I took the indifference of human feelings he seems to have as proof of his unhuman biology.”

He waves a hand around, “It’s nothing, besides, the only reason we leave him all the time is because we know he can handle it, he’s a bright young man, who can already take care of himself without our help, and we just wanted him to grow into that.” he smiled at the dished in his hands with what you believed was sorrow.

Somin visits you that night, just as you were sat on the bed, “Good evening, Somin. I have analyzed that you are feeling better now.”

She sits on the armchair right next to the bed, her eyes were puffy from crying earlier and she sniffled trying not to remember Jungkook’s harsh words earlier, “Yes, well it comes with being a mother. I love him no matter what happens.”

“Love?” You stared at Somin in the eyes, was this what that tender look was about?

“What is l-love?”

She stares at the ceiling in thought for a moment, “You know, I never actually thought about it.” she giggled lightly, “I think that once it’s there, you’ll know.”

“Are you in this love?” you quietly break her gaze.

She soothes your hair, a familiar feeling nagging at you in the back of your mind, “Of course! I’m in love with Junhyung, I love Jungkook, and even though you’ve only met me, I also love you.” She smiled kindly at you.

You nod in determination, “I shall accept this love you are willingly giving to me.”

She giggled at your excessiveness, “I can’t wait for you to start getting more human, just so I can embarrass you with the things you did when you first got here.” she laughs.

“Embarrass?”

She nods vigorously, “Anyway, Jungkook will tell you all about it tomorrow, we’ve only just gotten your credentials, and it seems you were a senior in high school, just like Jungkook, so we gathered everything you need, however we start at the lab tomorrow so you’ll need to ask Jungkook to help you get enrolled tomorrow, but be sure to get there before 1 because their office closes at 1 on Sundays.” She gestured towards the large envelope in her hand, “We already talked to the school board, and they have already given the go signal to have you start school. However, it’s already been a few weeks in so it may be slightly harder to make friends, but I’m sure Jungkook will help you get settled it.”

“Understood.” you turn to look at her and the  over the the tool box near her feet, “Will I be plugged in?”

Shed nods, gesturing towards the small powered generator by the bed, “For tonight, but after this one, you’ll be sleeping on your own, are you nervous about that?”

It takes you awhile to absorb the question, “I do not comprehend ‘nervous, but with the thought of hibernating without my generator, my heart rate speeds up.”

She gives you a reassuring smile that eases the constant thumping in your chest,”Don’t be, you’ll do great.” she kisses the top of your head before connecting the thick cord to the area where the chip was inserted.

“Is that nervous?” you place a hand softly over the thumping organ in your chest.

“Yes, but being nervous is good sometimes.” her soft smile is the last thing you see before your hibernation begins.

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #315

“Stevie’s Glitch, Mob Gossip”

[Doc] Well we know where he is now...

[TLOT] Charges past them with his cloak flapping in the direction of Lies house-

[Steve] Also runs by a moment later-

[Lie] - TLOT!  Wait for us!  It has to do with CP and Stevie!

[Alexis] - Should I start preparing things here?

[Doc] Yes? No? I have no idea what we're preparing for! - Xe goes dashing off as well-

[Lie] Follows them down into the cage-

[Stevie] Has basically created a blizzard around himself-

[CP] Is pushing closer, using his heat to protect himself- Stevie, you have to calm down, I don't want TLOT trying to kill me for destroying one of his cities

[TLOT] Charges into the portal and runs out into the desert. The offensive plants on the city walls turn to look down as the group staggers quickly through the snow and slushy sand-

[Lie] - I should have brought my cloak...

[Doc] Scoops her up and puts her in hir mane- Just hang on tight.

[Lie] - Yeah, let's find the source...  We can at least eliminate CP...

[TLOT] Stops to let Steve catch up and keeps him close as the snow blows around- This is ridiculous!

[Lie] - CP seemed concerned about Stevie...  Could Stevie be the cause of this?

[Doc] Beats me. But I think if I accidentally turned his brother into a Herobrine, he will kick my ass on general principles.

[Lie] - CP?  What about Notch?

[Doc] I think he'd be more annoyed then mad really.

[CP] Can tell that Stevie is running out of energy and is quickly coming to the conclusion that he may need to punch his brother-

[TLOT] Is close enough to see them now - Stevie! Cp! What the Nether is happening out here?!

[CP] - Stevie's glitching!

[TLOT] Gathers the energies around him and heads straight for Stevie to try and stabilize him-

[CP] - Don't let the other's closer, I've got my heat to protect me, but your Steve and Lie?  Not so much...

[Steve] Hears him and hangs back as Doc trots up-

[Doc] Oh fuck...

[Stevie] Quietly- Brother...

[CP]- I'm still here!

[TLOT] Reaches out for Stevie, murmuring soothing words and reaching out to him mentally to try and calm him-

[Stevie] Is panicked, but the words are helping and the ice is already beginning to settle down slightly-

[Doc] Is looking around at the ice - That's some serious cold...

[TLOT] Just look at me Stevie, breathe slow-

[Lie] - Well CP and Stevie are pretty much polar opposites...

[Stevie] His eyes still betray his fear but things are settling down-

[CP] - It's alright Stevie

[Doc] Sorta? Wouldn't the opposite of fire be water? And Cp has lightning? So does this mean he might have rock or earth powers too?

[Lie] - Who knows, but I think Stevie's going to need a bed asap...  And I bet the people of Kore may be thinking they've witnessed the birth of a new god...

[Doc] Looks back at the row of Testificate faces peering over the dunes a ways behind them- Yeah... probably. They're so impressionable.

[Stevie] Finally collapses to the ground, gulping for air-

[TLOT] Kneels beside him- I don't know what brought that on, but it was impressive at least.

[CP] - Doc glitched his new arm on...

[TLOT] Ah... break something a little bit more to fix it.... I'm not suprised.

[Stevie] - First try...  Fell...  Off...

[CP] - His body completely rejected it

[TLOT] I see. Well, whatever works.

[Steve] calls out- is it safe?

[CP] - For now?

[Lie] Hurries forwards- Stevie...

[Steve] Rushes up as well- You're glitched Stevie?

[Stevie] - Now...  Yes...

[Lie] - We should get him to a bed...  The chapel in Kore is filled with my flowers, they may help

[Sprlhm] Is leading the little group of Testificates- Is something awry my lords and ladies?

[Lie] - Er...  Well

[TLOT] Archly- Your war gods brother hath joined our ranks. Stevie of the ice.

-Little gasps-

[CP] Flips TLOT off before going over to his brother and kneeling in front of him- Breathe Stevie, just focus on that

[Sprlhm] Can we... get you anything?

[Steve] Make a room ready for him in the temple. He needs to rest amidst the healing blooms.

[Sprlhm] Snaps his fingers and a few villagers rush off- it shall be done

[TLOT] Goes to pick up Stevie-

[CP] Growls at TLOT as the other brine gets close-

[TLOT] Will you carry him then?

[CP] - Yes- He moves to scoop his brother up

[Lie] Has a slightly proud expression on her face as she watches her husband-

[Stevie] Where he and CP are in contact begins steaming-

[TLOT] Leads him instead and Steve falls into step beside them.

[Doc] Shrinks down to hir smaller self and also follows.

[Lie] Stays closest to her husband-

[Sprlhm] Opens the gates for them and there's the usual commotion in the square. The kids are playing in the little drifts of snow. Some of them dressed up like their visitors-

[CP] Ignores the kids as he moves forwards-

[Lie] - We'll have to deal with some of this ice before we leave...

[Cherie] Is waiting and ushers them inside. The place is still full of Lies flowers and the air is redolent with sweet fragrances from them.

[CP] Looks for the bed for Stevie-

-It's off to the left of the hallway and the room is also full of flowers-

[CP] Carries Stevie in and puts him on the bed-

[Lie] - I'll see about acquiring some soup, something easy for him to digest

[Cherie] I'll find something for him mistress - hurries off

[Doc] Is checking Stevie over- this is very strange...

[Steve] So he's not a Herobrine, but he got some powers?

[TLOT] It might have just been a feedback effect of whatever was done to him...

[Doc] I had to get rough with his coding so it would stop rejecting the transplant

[TLOT] I see...

[Sprlhm] is he okay?

[CP] - It's the same symptoms as I went through acquiring my fire powers...

[Lie] - And how long did that take you to figure out how to control?

[CP] - ...  Months...

[Doc] I guess some quality time is in order, since for once you're the only expert on what's wrong Cp.

[CP] - Yeah...

[TLOT] So.... Why my seed Cp?

[Steve] Awww. Hanging out with your bro, with common ground for once!

[CP] - Because I panicked and it was the closest desert I could think of that was large enough

[TLOT] Ah. Makes sense. Oh well, I'm sure some of the villagers who live here have never seen snow before. I doubt it will last long.

[CP] - I don't know...  I went through like five servers trying to control my powers and destroyed at least half of each server

[Stevie] Starts stirring a little-

[TLOT] Stares at him for a long moment and then slaps him hard across the face. - Don't ever, ever put my Testificates in danger again.

[Doc] So.... set up another console next to Gem's in your yard. Got it.

[CP] - I WAS PANICKING!

[TLOT] You still deserved that.  The NOTCH server is almost entirely unused area with no structure spawns.

[CP] - I was thinking desert because it's usually a large expanse of land.  Had it been fire, you'd be glad there was nothing there for it to spread with

[Doc] I think we all just need to relax....

[Steve] Checks on Stevie-

[Lie] Briefly thinks about what she did with Notch on TLOT's server-

[TLOT] Whips around to look at her- Liiiie?

[Lie] - Yes?

[TLOT] Eyes narrow- What did you do?

[Lie] - Nothing?

[TLOT] More fixed gaze and he takes a sharp little poke at her mind-

[Lie] Winces back at the poke and tries but fails at putting up a barrier, showing the village that she and Notch ended up at after fixing Traveller.  And the tree as a sign of gratitude towards Notch- I think...  I'm just, gonna go outside now...

[TLOT] Long annoyed sigh - That could have been a lot worse, buuuut.

[Steve] Is watching his mind- That's a huge tree....

[Lie] - Eh heh...  Sorry?

[CP] Was not paying attention, more focused on Stevie-

[Doc] Has taken a quiet step back and is checking on Stevie -

[Stevie] Starts opening his eyes- What...  What happened?

[Steve] You made a ton of ice!

[Doc] It's snowing in what's probably the biggest desert on TLOT's seed.

[Stevie] - It's, what?

[Cherie] Comes back with a bit of oonion soup and a loaf of bread. - Oh! The new god is awake! I brought you food.

[Stevie] - New god?

[CP] - Welcome to the "I didn't want this title club"

[Cherie] He did preform a rather strange miracle. And he is brother to the god of war.

[Doc] Cherie, it might be better to consider him clergy like Father Steve....

[Cherie] Is that acceptable?

[Stevie] - Um...  I don't really care either way...- He winces and causes a spike of ice to erupt from the ground

[CP] Sighs and just starts melting it- Yeah, I think I know what I'll be doing for awhile...

[Cherie] Oh my!

[Sprlhm] I'll get him a gem straight away! -Rushes off

[Lie] - A gem?

[Steve] Taps his chestplate, indicating the smooth green gemstone in the middle. - The clergy carry them, but there's no standard for how you bear it.

[Stevie] - That...  Might take some getting used to...

[CP] - First thing you'll need is training...

[TLOT] It's worth it. It's safe passage in strange places and if you show it to them; the villagers will take you in for a night and feed you if you're wandering.

[Stevie] - Only here though, right?

[Doc] On the other seed too. You're forgetting that the villagers in Konohakagure and Amegakure are from here and they have treaties with Sunagakure and Limewatch.

[CP] - Yeah but those places for the most part know all of us

[Doc] Do they? I doubt Stevie has been to Limewatch. And maybe not Sunagakure either. Have you been over the long bridge?

[Stevie] - Not since before the village was discovered.  Remember, you originally placed the human village over there

[Doc] Oh yeah! I forgot. Geeze that was forever ago.

[Stevie] - Yeah...

[Lie] - Stevie, do you think you feel well enough to head back over?

[Sprlhm] Comes back and strides over to Stevie- This is for you sir. - He holds up an oval gem on a golden chain. It sparkles in the torchlight and the big jewel is full of interesting swirls and bright patches of color.

[Stevie] Takes the gem and looks it over- I've never seen this type before...

[Sprlhm] They're very special, and not found often.

[Doc] Hence saving them for a special occasion-

[Steve] It's a bit shinier then mine, but I've taken quite few blows to the chest. Mines kinda scratched up.

[Stevie] - I see...  Thank you...- He's starting to feel light headed

[CP] - Stay with us brother, we still need to get home

[Doc] I can always carry him-

[CP] Growls a little-

[Doc] As a dragon! I'm not impuning your ability to carry him!

[Lie] Can't stop a small laugh-

[Steve] At least he's being protective... Thats a huge step.

[Lie] - Oh absolutely

[Stevie] Shivers and it starts snowing in the church-

[TLOT] Just go please. Steve and I will make some quick rounds here before we come back.

[Doc] Yeah. I'll set up a console for you. Let's go.

[CP] Reaches down to pick his brother up and toss him over his shoulder- Come on, let's go idiot

[Doc] Follows along-

[Sprlhm] Safe travel to you all!

[Lie] - Enjoy the snow while you can!

-Outside the kids are tossing snowballs and generally running around-

[CP] Creates an opening back to the cage and walks right through-

[Lie] - You go first Doc, he won't close it till I'm through

[Doc] Scoots out and looks up at the offensive plant - Doing a good job there. Keep it up!

[Lie] - It was worried a while back...

[Doc] Worried? I wonder why? Maybe it misses you and you need to come down here more often!

[Cherie] Sirs? We actually have a gift for you. One of our explorers found it, but we cannot read the text. We thought perhaps it would be of use to you. - she holds out a small black book with gold corners-

[TLOT] Takes it curiously and his brow furrows at the puzzling glyphs, they resemble the designs of the enchanting table and there are several diagrams for things he's never seen before.

[Lie] - Doc, I have the strongest connection with this pod, it woke me from my sleep it was that unnerved.  That's why I shut the door to the cage, even though I knew somebody had entered one of the servers, I trust it to know when something is wrong, especially if it's something it cannot bite

[Doc] Well... I'm not sure what we can do about it. You said it's been a while?

[Lie] - Yeah...

[CP] - Can we get this thing set up?  I don't think we want Stevie freezing this place over and he's starting to sniffle

[Stevie] - I am not!

[Doc] Okay, okay... - Xe click copies a command block and starts setting it up- Give me a phrase and I'll generate a seed from it.

[CP] Would flip Doc off if his hands were free-

[Lie] - Bonding zone

[CP] - Lie!

[Doc] Types it in - done! Let's see what we got! - Opens a portal into it-

[CP] Quickly carries Stevie through-

[Doc] Follows curiously, scanning around. - Mob griefing is off, keep inventory is on, and we're set on easy with structures set to no, so there aren't any villagers to get caught in the crossfire.

[CP] - Good

[Stevie] Sneezes and the area is filled with ice-

[Lie] Yelps and steps back from the opening, having not gone through yet-

[CP] Sighs and puts Stevie down so he can start melting the ice away from the forest around them-

[Doc] Brrrr... - shivers a little-

[Stevie] - Sorry...

[CP] - This will be awhile Doc, you might as well head back

[Doc] Ah, okay. -grins- Play nice you two.

[CP] Flips Doc off-

[Stevie] - I request somebody checking in to make sure I'm not dead every once in awhile

[Doc] Well respawn is on Stevie. Geeze. I wouldn't set up a hard core server knowing you were going to do dangerous things on it! I do actually like you, ya doofus.

[Stevie] - Yes but brother can hack

[CP] Uses a bit too much heat and accidentally sets a tree on fire-

[Doc] Stevie... do you really think he wants to kill you?

[Stevie] - Sometimes

[Doc] Walks over to Cp and fluffs hir hair really hard with both hands to get the rest of the honesty pollen out and on him- Now, ask him!

[CP] - You fucker!

[Stevie] - At you going to try and kill me?

[CP} - Want to but probably wont since you'll probably explode into super cold ice

[Doc] Is this a letter vs spirit of the law reply since you know the respawn is on Cp?

[CP] Shut up

[Doc] That would be a yes.

[Stevie] - I'm starting to feel hot again...

[CP] - You'll probably want to leave Doc...

[Doc] Okay. But I will check on you guys. - steps back out of the hole.

[Lie] - Be safe you two!

[Doc] Follows Lie back up to the surface-

[Hock] Is standing guard near the bathhouse and waves merrily-

[Doc] waves back-  Nice to see everyone acclimating.

[Lie] - Yeah, it is pretty nice

[Eliza] Is heading towards the house to speak with Winston-

[Chester] Is scooting along quickly behind her-

[Doc] Grins- Looks like Eliza has a shadow.

[Lie] - Is that the new spider?

[Doc] Yeah, that's Chester. Have you talked to him yet? He's a bit of a dork, but polite.

[Lie] - No, I have not

[Doc] Pulls out the egg and balances it in one hand- Hey Eliza? Are you busy?

[Eliza] - Hm?  Oh! Mistress, Doctor.  No, I'm not terribly busy

[Chester] Nearly bumps into her because he's walking too close- OOH! Doc! - He looks up at Eliza to guage her reaction to them,  and then scampers over-

[Lie] - Morning Eliza, I see you have a follower

[Eliza] Gives a slight bow of her head- Yes Mistress, the Doctor brought him from a different seed

[Chester] Is sort of picking his feet up and putting them down randomly like he's doing an excited dance- This is the mistress? Oh golly! Um... all hail!

[Lie] - There's no need for that, I assure you.  What's your name?

[Chester] Chester, Mamm!

[Doc] He's from TLOT's home seed.

[Lie] - I see, well it's a pleasure to meet you.  I doubt you've met my husband yet but he won't be around for awhile...

[Eliza] - Why is that Mistress?

[Lie] - Stevie...  Has developed some powers and CP's walking him through how to control them

[Chester] You as well! You have such neat hair. It looks like silky spiderwebs.

[Doc] You liking your new home?

[Chester] Heart eyes at Eliza- Uuuuhh huh!

[Eliza] - Speaking of webs, Mistress, Winston asked me to repair some fabrics around the house, would you like me to get started on that?

[Lie] - Yes, it would be much appreciated

[Chester] I can help!

[Eliza] - You know how to weave and sew?

[Chester] I can make string! And I can make a web..... You could teach me!

[Eliza] - We shall see, we will take our leave now Mistress?

[Lie] - Yes, of course.  I need to go speak with Alexis anyways

[Chester] Nice to meet you! - Runs towards Eliza and bumps into one of her back legs because he's going too fast.

[Doc] dawww

[Lie] - He's adorable

[Doc] I just hope she doesn't get annoyed and squish him. I forgot what a big spider she is.

[Lie] - Yeah, she's larger than normal spiders, I remember how freaked out I was the first time I saw her

[Doc] I would have been too, considering what the circumstances likely were.

[Lie] - Yeah...- Gives a small shudder

[Doc] Funny how things change. I wonder how Blake is faring with the new blazes? It seems like TLOT's mobs are full of suprises.

[Lie] - He's very frustrated with them

[Doc] I take it they're not much for fighting?

[Lie] - They're also not very bright

[Doc] Oh dear... Well at least they're keeping him busy?

[Lie] - So far

[Hoff and Moth] Approach them. The two pigladies are chatting amibly and chuckling a little- Hello!

[Lie] - Hello, are you two doing alright?

[Moth] We heard what happened to Winston. So scandalous! -giggles-

[Hoff] I had no idea he was such a ladies man!

[Lie] - What happened to Winston?

[Moth] He had sex with a human woman!

[Lie] - I'm sorry he what?

[Hoff] One of the creators no less!

[Doc] Snickers- I heard about this. I'm suprised you didn't. TLOT told me he came back with lipstick all over his skull.

[Lie] - Oh for fucks sake...

[Moth] His first time with anyone apparently. Poor thing. I understand he's been around for a while.

[Lie] - From what CP's told me he's always been focused on making sure everything was running smoothly

[Hoff] Oh, but you have to make a little time for fun. It's too stressful being serious all the time.

[Doc] The Doctor agrees with that - nod nod

[Lie] - I'm sure Winston got plenty of entertainment out of all the ridiculous situations the other mobs got into

[Doc] Oh just be happy for him Lie. I'm sure he's slightly annoyed with the low resolution around here.

[Moth] That nice Gold came around earlier to see if we needed anything and we said no, but we wrote them a little haiku to deliver with the paperwork so they'd wouldn't have wasted a trip.

[Hoff] I pressed a flower in mine. For our nice boss Cp.

[Lie] Is trying to suppress some laughter, already knowing how her husband will react to that-

[Doc] Is turning a bit pink trying not to laugh- You gals are doing great. Keep it up.

[Lie] - How are the others?

[Hoff] Francis and Baconn are so smitten with each-other. It's scary to think that what happened to us made them forget something so special as each-other.

[Moth] Hock would love to visit the library, but he's too shy to ask. Maybe you could assign him to accompany Ashe? Then he'd have a reason to go?

[Lie] - Hmm, well Ashe just had a growth spurt and is old enough to go by himself, but Willow and Oak on the other hand

[Moth] That might work.

[Lie] - Or I could ask him to get some for me

[Doc] Does he know where it is? Or just that it exists?

[Moth] I think you'll have to show him. I know it's kinda that way- Waves a hand in the vague direction of the library - but that's all

[Lie] - Ah, I see.  I'll keep that in mind

[metawitches]

Ann Evans (Claudia Black) & Isobel Evans (Lily Cowles) at Noah’s Funeral

There are alien zombie ghosts running around Roswell, New Mexico in season 2 and it’s glorious. Rosa (Amber Midthunder) is alive and not an alien zombie ghost, though she may develop similarities to one of those things if this show follows its predecessor. She and Isobel are both being haunted by Noah, but apparently for very different reasons.

Welcome to season 2 of the CW’s Roswell, New Mexico, where the alien fun is ramping up to epic proportions.

Recap

Rosa is channeling Max’s memories of Noah and combining them with her own memories of Noah’s possession of Isobel, then turning them into nightmares. A worried Liz sends Rosa to now big brother Kyle to have her head examined. He discovers that Max healed all of Rosa’s afflictions. Her injuries from the accident are gone and she shows no signs of ever having done drugs.

Isobel continues to sense Noah’s presence and can’t understand why, when the ghost she wants to be haunted by is Max. They always had a psychic connection in life, so why does she have a psychic connection to Noah in death?

Max’s body is in Rosa’s pod, since Isobel can’t accept that Max, her other half, is gone. Michael uses an ultrasound machine to show Isobel that Max had a massive heart attack due to damage that he incurred during the season 1 finale battles with Noah, not just from bringing Rosa back. His heart is so damaged that there’s no way to repair it.

Liz is going through the Roswell version of bipolar disorder: should she mourn her dead alien boyfriend or should she become a modern day Dr. Frankenstein in order to bring him back to life? You get exactly one guess as to which she chooses.

After discovering that Rosa is dreaming about Max’s memories and her alien handprint is still glowing, weeks after Max brought her back, Liz figures out that Rosa and Max’s brains are psychically connected. The connection is keeping Max’s brain alive, which gives Liz a reason to create a plan to save him.

Liz, Kyle and Michael decide to use Noah’s heart as a transplant for Max. They discover that Alex’s brother, Flint (Kyle has Papa Jesse Manes in a medically induced coma), has already seized Noah’s body from the morgue and is on his way to Area 51. Liz and Rosa are driving on the same highway, since they had intended to leave town when they thought there was no hope of saving Max. Instead, Rosa runs Flint’s van off the road and they snatch Noah’s body.

Fun Fact: I-40 is nowhere near Roswell. Get a map, show.

Liz, Kyle and Michael do an alien autopsy on Noah down in Michael’s bunker lab. Michael explains the differences between alien bodies and humans. Aliens seem to be fully integrated cyborgs, with their tech based on their organic structures, which Liz appreciates. It turns out Noah’s heart is a fixer upper, so Liz will have to invent some new regenerative medicine techniques to restore his heart before they can give it to Max.

Maria, Michael and Alex are all confused about where they stand with each other, so Michael does the honorable thing and finds a rando at the Wild Pony. Maria takes the keys to his truck because she recognizes that this is a cry for help, proving that she’s the one sane person in this threesome. The universe retaliates against her good sense by alien rapturing her mother, who is once again wandering the desert alone at night.

I’d say that she should find a better facility for her mother, but she probably doesn’t have any other options.

That Wild Pony sign is definitely an alien beacon.

Isobel shows her usual reasoning abilities and reacts to Max’s death and being haunted by Noah by going out into the desert and breaking her neighbors’ glass bowls with her mind. She figures that this will eventually turn into a skill that will heal her brother or drive Noah out of her mind.

Yeah, I don’t get it either. Michael stops trying to get her to understand words and takes her to the ultrasound machine.

The triple whammy of Max’s lost heart, her lost connection to him, and the fact that she’s hearing Noah instead of Max is finally too much, in addition to putting up with her mother’s presence throughout Noah’s funeral. Isobel gives up and decides to hold a one-woman vigil for Max in the cave.

One woman and one alien ghost. After several hours alone with Noah’s presence, Max’s pod and the ultrasound machine, Isobel has a brainstorm and does an ultrasound of her belly.

Yep. Isobel and Noah’s ghost are expecting a baby! Time to go on a mission to find that copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting an Alien that the Manes Men have been hoarding for 75 years!

But we’re not finished yet. Max breaks into Rosa’s dream and knocks Noah out with his lightning. He tells Rosa that she has to tell Liz not to bring him back to life, no matter what.

Actual Zombie Max Evans

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Commentary

Finding out everything there is to know about alien reproduction sounds like a good bonding mission for the turbulent threesome of Michael, Maria and Alex. I know those crazy kids can make this thing work out. Michael doesn’t know what to do without a boy and a girl to bounce between. Separate households will need to be maintained.

The baby’s stem cells will no doubt play a role in Liz’s cure for Max and how Isobel decides to handle the pregnancy.

Lily Cowles stole every scene that Isobel was in, but the funeral and the scenes at the house afterward were the best. It takes some talent to upstage Claudia Black.

Isobel’s funeral outfit was simply fabulous. I look forward to the episode where she and Rosa realize they’ve been the same person all along and try to wear each other’s clothes. Then they both realize that they’re actually kind of in love with Noah and demand that Liz, Kyle and Michael get him out of their heads and into their beds. If she can’t worship his ashes, Isobel needs to worship some part of him!!

Noah was a terrible person but an amazing character and I want him back, in the flesh. He’s going to be a baby daddy!!! He needs his heart! They can take a road trip to Area 51. I’m sure there are lots of pickled hearts up there that Max could use. Or Liz can build a heart for him out of a piece of the ship.

Clearly Claudia Black must be told everything immediately and stay on forever. She has extensive experience in these matters and will be very helpful. Plus, she was an epidemiologist in Containment, so Roswell should hire her right away before the coronavirus hits town. We don’t know how it will affect the aliens. Max, Isobel and Noah’s conditions are all very delicate.

Michael would have gotten much further, much faster in his research if he’d brought a biochemist on board sooner. It seems strange that he never compared his own blood and biology to the alien tech.

I’m so proud of Michael for the speech he made to Alex about the way Alex has pushed him away then called him back, over and over. I have this in my life with relatives and at some point you have to be the strong one who stops the madness. This is the reason I don’t support their relationship as currently written. They have deep love and chemistry, but an unhealthy dynamic. Sometimes people can change that, sometimes they can’t.

So far, they are both perpetuating the same patterns and neither should be in a relationship with anyone. Michael left Alex and purposely took his pain out on Maria. She’s healthy enough to recognize what he’s doing, but I don’t think she should subject herself to someone who’s using her the way he did in this episode. I was glad that she stopped him from driving, then walked away without engaging him any further. Let him cry on another shoulder if hurting her first is the price of emotional intimacy.

I feel bad for Maria, since she has a lot on her shoulders and no one to share it with. Her messed up friends put her in danger but lie to her about it; use her and abandon her; and keep secrets from her that she has the right to know. It’s about time that she was brought in on what’s really going on, so that she can reunite with her bestie Rosa and figure out the truth about her mom.

Images courtesy of The CW.

Roswell, New Mexico S2 E1: Stay (I Missed You) Recap-There are alien zombie ghosts running around Roswell, New Mexico in season 2 and it's glorious. Rosa & Isobel are both being haunted by Noah, for very different reasons. #RoswellNM There are alien zombie ghosts running around Roswell, New Mexico in season 2 and it's glorious. Rosa (Amber Midthunder) is alive and not an alien zombie ghost, though she may develop similarities to one of those things if this show follows its predecessor.

[queerofcups]

Title: you were temporary, i can’t bear for you to leave Rating: M Word count: 5124 Summary:  Five times Phil left Dan's bed + one time he didn't.

[read on Ao3]

I.

“Dan!” Zooey says, pulling him into the apartment. “I’m so glad you made it!”

He follows her to the kitchen where most of the people are bunched up, making drinks and talking shit. Its early enough that there aren’t many people he doesn’t recognize, the flat just starting to fill up.

“Howell,” PJ says, waving him over. One of the few people Dan doesn’t recognize is standing next to PJ. He’s looking at Dan mildly, body turned toward PJ. From here Dan can tell that he’s almost the same height as Dan and he’s pale as all get out. He’s really interesting looking, not attractive in any traditional sense, but Dan still has to drag his eyes away to look at PJ.

“Heya, Peej,” Dan says, making his way over. “Hi, PJ’s friend.”

“Dan,” PJ says, “This is Phil. AmazingPhil? He just moved from here from up north.”

“Oh!” Dan says, information clicking in place. “I’ve seen some of your videos. Really cool stuff.”

He’s not lying, he’s watched some of Phil’s longer, interactive videos and wondered why the dude wasn’t working in proper filmmaking. He was obviously skilled. He was also obvious in the way he gives Dan the once over before sticking his hand out.

“Same to you, Danisnotonfire,” he says and PJ wasn’t joking, he’s very Northern. He’s also very into Dan, judging from the blatant once over he gives Dan. Dan brightens a little, intrigued.

“You watch my stuff?”

Phil nods, smiling. “For a long time, yeah. Your skills have grown like crazy.”

“Mine!” Dan says, leaning up against Zooey’s sink. “Mate, the thing you did in your last video with those trippy visual effects?”

Dan isn’t sure when PJ slipped away, doesn’t even notice until he and Phil have been talking for a few minutes, bouncing from their respective video channels to living in London, trading flirty comments and restaurant recommendations alike.

It’s not a surprise to Dan, or anyone at the party with eyes or ears, when he finds himself a few hours later, tucked into a dark corner of the party a little drunk with his tongue half way down Phil’s throat.

Phil’s hands are big and warm, low on Dan’s hips and Dan appreciates not having to crane his neck downward just to kiss him. They kiss for a little while longer, mouths sliding hot and slick together, Dan thinking idly that this might be a little unprofessional.

“Mm,” Dan says when Phil dips his head to gently bite at Dan’s neck. “That- that’s going to escalate things. Should you really be doing this in a room full of your new coworkers, more or less?”

Phil laughs, a little breathless and pulls away just a little, his pinky finger playing with the hem of Dan’s shirt. “Should I be doing this with one of my new coworkers?”

Dan shrugs, pulls his hands out of Phil’s back-pockets. “Seems like we’re making a bit of a scene.” They weren’t really, most everyone here was a bit past wasted and none of them were unfamiliar with Dan finding a dark corner to hook up with someone. Half of them had been that someone at one time or another.

“Should we make a scene somewhere more private?” Phil asks, smiling.

It’s funny, Phil asks as causally and friendly as if he’d just asked Dan for lunch. Dan finds himself smiling back. “Sure. My place? I’m guessing yours isn’t unpacked yet.

Phil nods, grateful. “It’s a maze of boxes. I’d love to go over to yours, though.” *

They manage to keep their hands off each other the whole walk to Dan’s flat and even once they get in the door. It doesn’t get awkward, the way things have when Dan brings people over. He learns that Phil’s a semi-recent transplant from the North, having fought off moving to London as long as he could. He’s been in London for a year, his new apartment for only a month.

“Why haven’t I seen you around?” Dan asks, locking the door behind them.

Phil shrugs. “Bad break up before I moved. All the good energy I had went into making videos. I didn’t really want to like, make friends of anything. I’m luckey Zooey’s persistent. She’s been inviting me to things all year.”

Dan nods. “Lucky for both of us. That’s why I don’t really do relationships. It’d suck to not be able to go out for a year because of one person.”

Dan knows it’s probably an awkward thing to say, but he wants to be sure Phil understands what this is.

Phil smiles, a little sheepish and nods. “Yeah, it did suck. I’m not really interested in doing it again, not for a long while anyway.”

Dan grins and then walks closer, pulling Phil into his arms again. “So this is my apartment, I’ll give you a tour some time, but bedroom?”

Phil laughs, full throated and nods. “Sure thing.”

*

The sex is shockingly good.

Dan know’s sex. He’s had a lot of it, (good, bad and neutral) he knows what he’s into and he knows when he has chemistry with people.

He has a lot of chemistry with Phil.

It’s close to 3am when they both finally collapse on Dan’s bed, breathing hard.

“Holy shit,” Dan says, staring at his ceiling, eyes a little wide. Phil makes a content noise beside him.

“D’you mind if I use your bathroom to clean up?” Phil asks, sitting up.

“Nah,” Dan says, still a little blissed out. He’s certain he’d lost some brain cells from that orgasm. “Mi casa, su casa. Towels are in the closet next to the bathroom, if you want to shower.”

Phil nods and gets up, grabbing his clothes from Dan’s bedroom floor.

Dan’s nearly asleep when he reappears fifteen minutes later.

“I’m heading out,” Phil says, quietly to not disturb Dan too much. Dan yawns and looks at him, nodding and smiling. “Uber’s downstairs.”

“Okay,” Dan says, sitting up. “I’ll see you around?”

“I hope so!” Phil says, waving a little, then walking out. Dan hears the door shut behind him.

He’s nearly asleep a few minutes later when he realizes he still needs to lock the door to his flat. He gets to his feet, grumbling a little. He’s a little sticky with drying come—its getting a little gross—and he still feels remarkably relaxed, still a little buzzed on booze and fantastic sex.

He’s locking the door when he realizes that Phil’s stolen one of the star sticky notes that live on his kitchen counter and scribbled his phone number on it. Dan peels it off and takes it back with him to program Phil into his phone.

II.

are u any good at mario kart, Dan texts a few days later. He’s been working on editing his latest video all day and his eyes are starting to blur from looking at the screen. He doesn’t have any real rules around one night stand, has made a fair number of friends from those sorts of encounters. But he does want to give Phil space, not look like he’s only interested in getting sex from him.

they don’t call me Piranha Plant Philly for nothing, Phil texts back. Dan grins. He likes this guy.

stop being friends with whoever calls u that immediately, Dan says, come over tonight?

i can’t just unfriend my mom like that, dan, Phil says, throwing in a few random emojis. sure. 7?

7, Dan confirms and asks after Phil’s pizza preferences

*

It turns out, Phil is not terrible at Mario Kart but Dan’s a lot better. They’ve been playing for a few hours now and Dan’s won the majority of the rounds, once while also eating a slice of pizza.

“I didn’t come here to be bullied,” Phil says, watching Toad cross the finish line 2nd once again.

“Ohhh poor Phil,” Dan teases. “Coming into my house expecting special treatment.”

Phil laughs. Dan’s learned that he sticks his tongue between his teeth when he laughs sometimes and that he got an affinity for slower cars and switching between Yoshi, Birdo and a Shy Guy.

“You’re a terrible host,” Phil says putting his controller down and turning his body toward Dan. “You should make it up to me.”

Dan scoffs but his controller down, too. “I do all this work to beat you at Mario Kart and I have to have sex? Sex is a lot of work, Phil.”

Phil rolls his eyes but still leans over to kiss Dan, pushing him back against the couch.

Dan watches with interest as Phil gets up and resettles himself between Dan’s spread knees.

“Is this my prize for winning?” Dan can’t help but ask.

Phil shrugs and rubs his hands up and down Dan’s thighs. “That, or maybe I need a break from my ego being obliterated. Whatever makes you feel better, really.”

“Both is good,” Dan says, shifting his hips forward so Phil can pull his jeans down. “Both is good.”

*

At one point, in the middle of a blow job that’s definitely going in Dan’s top 25, he gasps out, “Who even are you?”

Phil pulls off, mouth shiny and wet. He licks his lips and Dan groans. “Piranha Plant Philly. We already talked about this.”

Dan groans and laughs. “No. I refuse to call you that during sex.”

Phil shrugs and dips his head back down. “I’m willing to respect that boundary.”

*

Dan offers to return the favor and Phil waves him off.

“I’ve got to get going, actually.” Phil says, after he’s been to the bathroom to clean up his face. Dan’s still sitting on the couch, feeling languid and boneless in the aftermath of Phil. “I’ve got a date tomorrow and I don’t want to be totally dead on my feet.”

Dan’s stomach jerks a little, which is weird. Maybe the pizza was dodgy? He nods and climbs to his feet, pulling his sweats back on properly. “I’ll owe you one, then, next time?”

Phil raises and eyebrow, smiling. “You already planning our next bootycall, Danisnotonfire?”

Dan laughs out loud. “Is it a booty call if I feed you and destroy you at video games first?”

“Nah,” Phil says, walking to the door. “I’d call that a date actually. But we’re just friends so I guess it’s just hanging out? Hanging out with orgasms?”

“Bringing a new definition to the term play date,” Dan says. “Later, Phil. Have a good date.”

Phil waves at Dan and then he’s gone, Dan locking the door behind him. Dan yawns a little and survey’s the mess of his longue, Mario Kart still on, pizza box and half empty glasses of ribena. He should have made Phil stay and clean up. Next time he’ll have to make sure Phil sleeps over or something so he can’t get out of helping clean up.

III.

“We should do a video together,” Phil says above Dan’s head. He’s leaning against the door to his bedroom, his pants around his ankles. Dan had come over in the name of housewarming/helping Phil finish unpacking, which they’d finally completed. Phil’s hips tasted of sweat when Dan had sucked on the knobby place where his hipbone protruded. A moment before, Phil had been groaning and tugging on Dan’s hair a little, nudging him where he wanted Dan to be.

“I’m pretty sure it’s too soon to be talking sex tapes,” Dan says casually, as if he hadn’t been just about to blow Phil.

“Not like that,” Phil says and looks down at Dan. “We should collab. I haven’t done a collab in ages and I think our audiences already have some overlap.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dan says. He’s eager to get back to blowing Phil, and the idea of a collab has been stirring in the back of his mind anyway.

“Great!” Phil says. “Ok, you can get to it now.”

Dan rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else, following Phil’s instructions.

*

“We’re even now,” Dan says, wiping his mouth and sitting back on his heels. Phil’s head is still thrown back against the door, his hand still gripping Dan’s hair.

“Are we keeping score?” Phil asks, looking down at Dan. It’s not a bad position, Dan thinks, looking up at Phil. Phil’s wonderful to look at from any angle, but Dan likes this one a lot, looking up at a content, slightly possessive Phil. He suddenly feels a little nervous and shifts a little so Phil’s hand falls away from his head.

He stands and clears his throat. “No, but I’d be winning if we were. I’ve gotta go, but text me about the collab ideas, yeah? We should definitely do that.”

Phil calls after him but Dan makes a quick retreat, nearly running out of the apartment.

IV.

The problem is that Dan’s got no common sense. Common sense would tell him that he and Phil need to slow down so he can deal with this pesky blooming of feelings. Common sense would tell him to sit down with himself and parse out his affection for Phil as a friend from his appreciation of their, still unfairly good, sex.

Common sense would tell him not to respond when, a few days after the hallway blow job incident, Phil texts him, what do you call it when someone turns you on and then doesn’t go through with anything?

Dan’s got no common sense and texts back blue balls?

Dan’s got no common sense, and opens the next message, which is, of course, a picture message.

Dan’s got no common sense and texts back, come over.

It’s not that late on a Saturday night, but late enough for Phil to have just finished with a date. Dan’s assuming the other person’s not still there if Phil’s texting him. A little jealous part of him hopes the person’s still there.

“You’re so dumb,” Dan whispers to himself and looks around his apartment, wondering if he should clean up. He realizes he’s planning to clean up for Phil and shakes himself. He and Phil have been friends for months now, have seen each other’s places worse than this.

*

Phil shows up forty-five minutes later, eyes bright and a grin playing on his lips.

“Date go well?” Dan asks. They don’t usually talk much about the dates Phil goes on. Dan doesn’t ask and Phil doesn’t offer much more than that they’re rarely with the same person and that he’s just trying to get back into dating.

Phil shrugs, “Date went weird. He was really hot but not very interesting?”

Dan nods and walks to the bedroom, “And not interested in sealing the deal.”

Phil laughs, following him. “Don’t call it that, what are we, teenagers?”

Dan turns and waggles his eyebrows. “We could be. You know my parents aren’t home right now.”

Phil pauses, looks considering. Heat flares up in Dan’s stomach.

“You know I’ve seen the naked dailybooths,” Phil says, considering. “You were pretty. You’ve grown a lot.”

Dan groans and keeps walking. “Those things fucking haunt me. I was a skinny kid during an era that appreciated skinny kids.”

“Noncomforming as can be,” Phil teases and hustles Dan to the bedroom. “Anyway, no teenagers. I just want you.”

Dan stomps down on the fluttering in his stomach that sets off and pulls his shirt off. “One Dan coming up, Mr. Lester.”

*

Phil doesn’t do anything to Dan that hasn’t been done before. Dan’s known a lot of mouths, a lot of hands. He’s touched and been touched by a lot of people. He’s even felt these fluttering feelings before, these spikes of jealousy.

The problem is he doesn’t want Phil to stop. After they have sex, they lay in Dan’s bed, talking about the video they’re planning. Phil’s made noises about leaving three times now and three times Dan’s redirected the conversation.

They aren’t touching. If they were clothed, it could be a platonic scene of two bros chilling on a bed. Except that one of the bros is dying to get his hands on the other. So maybe more like a scene out of some of the porn Dan’s seen.

“Hey,” Phil says, looking up at Dan. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Going to Youtube,” Dan thinks. “Might go shopping. Why?”

“Have lunch with me,” Phil says, pressing up on to his forearms. “Let’s show our friendship to the world.”

“Isn’t that what the collab is for,” Dan asks. The butterflies in his stomach are back and seem to have multiplied. “Are you asking me on a date, Phil Lester?”

“No!” Phil says, quickly, flushing. “No. I know that’s not something you’re interested in. I wouldn’t…”

Dan waves a hand. “I get it. I’m a bridge troll that doesn’t deserve a date. Yes, Phil, I’ll have platonic lunch with you.”

Phil looks like he wants to argue but shakes his head and rolls off the bed, yawning. “Besides, I have a date that night. Can’t have three dates in two days, someone might think I’m a bit of a slag.”

Dan scoffs. “Slut-shaming, Phil Lester? I’m appalled.”

Phil pulls on his jeans and looks at Dan, grinning. “Only joking. Everyone already thinks I’m a bit loose. Once, I hooked up with this guy at a work party after talking for like, an hour.”

Dan laughs, delighted. “And how’d that work out for you?”

Phil gives him a soft look, still smiling. “Pretty well, so far, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan says, smiling back at him. “It’s going pretty well.”

They have lunch, and it’s perfectly platonic (and Dan gets to make a couple jokes about their sushi being the platonic ideal of lunch). Dan drags Phil to the shops and nearly talks him into buying a see though shirt similar to one Dan owns, and then Phil drags them back to his apartment to play video games.

They’ve discovered that Phil is weirdly good at Smash Bros. and Dan responds to being beat soundly in several rounds with shoving, which turns into wrestling which turns, predictably, into making out.

Dan is sucking a sizeable mark onto Phil’s neck when an alarm on Phil’s phone goes off. He’s preparing to it when Phil groans and pushes at his shoulders a little.

“Dan, c’mon. I gotta get ready for my date.”

Dan sits up, looking at the marks he’s left. Most of them are small, little red bite marks on the side of Phil’s neck. The last one, just at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, is not small at all and there’s no way this date is going to miss that one. Dan wants to pin Phil down and get back to work, wants to tell Phil he doesn’t need to go on more dates, that he should date Dan. That he should stop rolling out of Dan’s bed after they fuck. That he should stay in Dan’s bed, and his life, for as long as he likes.

“Dan?” Phil asks. Dan shrugs and climbs off him, sits back on the couch.

“Go ahead.” Dan says, “Can I borrow your laptop? I wanted to make some edits to our script.”

“Sure,” Phil says and climbs off the floor, heading to the bathroom. “I told the guy I had to be back early to work on the video tonight. Do you wanna just stay here tonight and work on it when I get back?”

Dan thinks about what that’d look like to the guy Phil’s about to go out with. Both of them with marked up necks, Dan sitting in Phil’s apartment like he’s been here a million times. It’s fucked up, but the jealous parts of Dan purr with the idea, the chance for somebody to think that Phil might be his.

“Yeah,” Dan calls down the hall. “I’ll do that.”

*

Phil’s date knocks on the door while Phil is shuffling around his bedroom, so Dan takes it upon himself to answer the door.

The date, (Kieran, Phil had told him over lunch) was fit enough, shorter than Dan but probably more built. Dan wondered if that’s something Phil was into, if he should be thinking about investing in a gym membership.

Kieran gave Dan an uncertain smile and asked, “Phil?”

Dan opens his mouth to answer when Phil answers behind him, “Nope. I’m Phil. That’s my friend Dan. Hi.”

Phil gently pushes Dan out of his way with a hand to his hip and smiles down at Kieran. Kieran looks from Phil to Dan eyebrow raised.

“Friend,” he says skeptically. Dan can see the moment his eyes fall on the mark he’s left on Phil’s neck and he holds his breath a little, waiting for Kieran to respond.

He’s more than a little disappointed when Kieran smiles at Phil, eyes sparkling a little and asks, “Are you ready to go then?”

“I am!” Phil says happily and turns to Dan. “You’re ok here, right?”

Dan nods, plastering a smile on. “Sure am. Just don’t stay out too late, young man.”

He wags a finger at Phil, who laughs. He turns to wave at Kieran just in time to catch a knowing look.

“I’ll have him back at a respectable hour,” Kieran says. Dan’s almost certain he’s making up the pity he sees on Kieran’s face.

And then Phil is gone and he’s alone in Phil’s apartment. Dan leans against the closed door, allowing himself a moment to imagine the date that’s about to happen, imagines Phil coming back and telling him how wonderful Kieran is, imagines Phil asking Dan to be his best man at his wedding to Kieran.

He putters around a little, playing another round of video games before settling down to fine tune the collab script he and Phil are planning to film soon. He grabs a pair of Phil’s headphones and jams them over his ears, clicking through Phil’s library to find something appropriately loud and distracting.

“You’ve done this to yourself,” he murmurs, moving around commas; Phil used way too many. “You fucked it all up with that date bullshit. Should have let him just ask you. But no, we’ve got to be all Danny No-Boyfriend and here we are, just Danny, no boyfriend.”

Suddenly, the headphones are being pulled off and Dan’s shrieking, nearly dropping the computer in his haste to get away from the headphone stealing intruder that’s broken into Phil’s house.

Phil looks at him, mouth turned downward.

“Jesus, Phil,” Dan says, clutching his chest. His hearts beating a mile a minute, partly out of fear, partly out of realization that Phil’s probably heard his little monologue. “What are you doing back? How long have you been there?”

“Kieran sent me back. Said he felt bad about stealing my attention. You said you didn’t do dating,” Phil says.

“I- I did.” Dan stammers. “But that was before I. You. Oh. Fuck.”

Phil crosses his arms. “You should probably go.”

“What?” Dan squawks. “Isn’t this a good thing? People are usually happy when they find out people have a thing for them.”

“You lied to me, Dan.” Phil’s full on frowning now, and he’s taken a step back from the couch, precluding Dan reaching him across the couch. “You let me believe we were just having friendly sex. You should have told me when your feelings changed.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Dan says, exasperated. “It’s been years since I’ve wanted to date someone. I’ve had sex with friends tons of times, this has never happened before.”

Phil says. “Okay. But I still want you to go. I need some time to be less angry.”

Dan wants to argue, but it’s hurting him to look at Phil right now. They’ve had squabbles before, over the months since they became friends, but he’s never seen Phil this closed off. He’s refusing to look directly at Dan.

“Ok,” Dan says, picking up his stuff. “But this is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’re important to me. Your friendship matters more than some stupid crush I have.”

Dan doesn’t stop to see the look on Phil’s face, just leaves the apartment before he can screw up more than he already has.

+ I.

Phil doesn’t speak to him for a week. Dan hadn’t realized how much he’d been neglecting all his other friends until he can’t spend all his time talking to Phil. He also realizes that everyone else probably figured out he was into Phil long before he did, judging from the looks on his friends’ faces when he tells them what’s going on.

“It was supposed to be buddy fucking,” he whines to PJ, who’s facetimed him just to mock him face to screen. “I didn’t fall in love with you.”

“No,” PJ says lightly. He’s walking somewhere, the city passing by him in flashes. “But you were also an experiment in broadening my sexual horizons, so that would have been tragic for you.”

Dan rolls his eyes. PJ was the most successful of his straight boy experiences, honestly. “Yet somehow I managed to move on from all that sexual prowess of yours.”

“You also weren’t making out with me like, five seconds after we met. You don’t ignore chemistry like that.”

Are you home?

Dan’s heart beats faster at the sight of Phil’s name.

“Dan?” PJ asks when Dan hasn’t responded for a minute.

“He texted me,” Dan says. “Fuck, Peej, he texted me, what do I do?”

“Text back?” PJ says, amused with Dan’s near hysterics. “What does he want? Is he proposing?”

“He wants to know if I’m home.” Dan says, texting Phil back, yeah.

“Oh man, lucky. Make up sex is the best.” PJ says. Dan catches an old woman looking over her shoulder at PJ, scandalized.

“I’m pretty sure he’s coming here to officially friend break up with me, but sure, we’ll go with your theory.” Dan looks down at his gross Sad Sweat Pants and the Jake sweatshirt he’d pilfered from Phil with false promises of returning it one day. “I should go change.”

“Probably, you look gross.” PJ says just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Fuck,” Dan hisses. “He’s here. I have to go.”

“Use plenty of lube!” PJ says cheerfully, like Dan hadn’t been the one to teach him that. Dan hangs up without a response and goes to open the door.

Phil’s eyes track him over, eyebrow raising once he sees the stolen sweatshirt.

“Can I come in?” he asks. He hasn’t asked that since the first or second time Dan invited him over, usually pushes past Dan to get into the flat.

“Yeah!” Dan says, too enthusiastic, and steps out of Phil’s way. “I’m- I’m really glad you texted.”

Phil still looks sort of sad, but not as upset as he’d been the last time they spoke. Dan hopes it means good things.

“I liked you as soon as I met you,” Phil says. Dan had always appreciated how direct Phil was. He appreciates it less now, when its knocking him off all his defenses.

“Ah,” Dan says, squirming. “I really was just fucking at first. Sorry?”

Phil shrugs. “That’s fine. I was up for whatever. That’s not what I’m upset about.”

“You’re upset because I didn’t tell you,” Dan says slowly, repeating Phil from the week before.

“We’re friends, Dan.” Phil says, and Dan suspects he’s riling himself back up. “You’re supposed to trust friends.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Dan asks. “Hey, I know you’re having the time of your life dating half the city, but could you stop that and just date me, even though I’ve turned you down multiple times now?”

“Yes,” Phil says, gesticulating. “That exactly. Minus the minor slut shaming. I’ve hardly dated half the city, and so what if I have.”

Dan shakes his head. “Nothing’s what. I don’t care. What kind of hypocrite would I be to care? I just don’t want you to date them now. I just want you to date me.”

Phil sighs. “I want to date you, too.”

It’s not like Dan hadn’t figured it out. A week without Phil had left him with a lot of time to think, and feel worse and worse about the way he’d been ignoring the hints Phil had been dropping.

“I know,” Dan says. “I’m sorry I ignored that.”

Phil crosses his arms, bites his bottom lip. “You owe me, like, a bunch of dates. Proper ones, not video games and pizza. I’ve got different standards for boyfriends.”

Dan bites at his own lips, fighting a smile. “Phil Lester, are you asking me out?”

“Nope,” Phil says, dropping his arms. He’s a whole different person when he’s relaxed, playful light coming to his eyes. “You’ve got to ask me, Howell.”

“If I ask you out,” Dan says slowly. “Does that mean you’re not going to put out until we go on the date? Is that one of your standards?”

“Hardly,” Phil scoffs. “I put out on first dates all the time. If they’ve earned it.”

“So, would you say this counts as a sort of…pre-date? Do you put out on pre-dates?” Dan stalks closer. Phil watches him, a grin playing at his lips. Soon, they’re pressed against each other, Dan wrapping his arms around Phil.

“I think this falls firmly in the bros with benefits category.” Phil says firmly, but still rests his arms around Dan’s neck, pulling him within kissing range.

“Well,” Dan says. “I’m pretty sure my new boyfriend won’t be allowing me to do that-“

Phil shrugs. “It can be an ongoing conversation.”

“-but I’ll make an exception this time,” Dan continues, tabling discussions of nonmonogamy for later.

Phil kisses him.

*

After, they lie in Dan’s bed, breathing. Dan thinks, idly, that he’s glad his walls are thick. He’s always been loud, but Phil makes him wild with it, makes him more vocal and less concerned with everyone else’s comfort. He’s comfortable now, a little sweaty and the little mouthmarks Phil has left ache so prettily.

Phil sits up and Dan’s gaze snaps over to him.

“No,” Dan says firmly, tugging him back down. “You’re staying here.”

Phil pauses, obviously thinking about his response. “I appreciate the symbolism, but I have to pee. I’ll come back.”

Dan thinks about it for a moment. “How badly do you have to go.”

Phil laughs and pulls away. “We can have the kink negotiation conversation after we finish the monogamy one.”

Dan grins, watching him leave to go to the bathroom.

True to his word, Phil climbs back in bed, shuffling up close to Dan. Dan yawns and arranges Phil until they’re both comfortable and settles in to fall asleep, sure Phil will be there later.

[of-another-broken-heart]

So yeah guess who managed to spend fifty bucks at the dollar store? Me. It was me. Obviously. 

Why? I’m on a good-paycheck high and I need to watch myself in the future, but... 

First of all, they had chipotle rosa noodles. So many. So I bought ten because I fucking LOVE that flavor and it’s been like.. a year? two??? since I’ve had them. So there’s 20% of my purchase, right there. 

Other treasures I found today: 

some new body lotions (3)

cute clover/shamrock fake nails (2)

white-and-green fashion scarf (2)

snapple tea and welch’s juice mixes for water bottles (6)

And I picked up some pretty standard stuff, too. A plastic file folder/clipboard combo for holding some of my work papers that I’ve just been sliding into my notebook the past few months, since I use them damn near every day. A new sharpener, specifically to stash with my makeup so I’m not tempted to use my art pencil sharpener on my eyeliner or something. Some more dehumidifiers. A fresh bag of cotton balls. A few freezer foods for quick eating. Some cup noodles. New toothbrushes. Refills on vitamins/supplements that were starting to run low (Vitamin C and Fish Oil). 

I also picked up a large plastic planter, a simple trellis, and a bag of potting soil - intending to transplant a green bean into it. Lil sis actually started growing some green beans for a school project or something, and mom kept it in the kitchen window to let it keep growing. Of the 4 seeds that were planted, 3 sprouted, and they’re all still going strong. One of them even has two bean pods already starting to grow. 

The green house I bought like.. 4-5 years ago finally got recycled last year. Lots of plastic joints were starting to crack, the metal tubes were starting to rust and bend, and the plastic covering had turned brittle and started cracking/disintegrating in multiple places. So any gardening that we do this year will probably be planter-based, and done in the little dirt patch out front. This yard just isn’t made for gardening, though. The dirt is mostly shit, and where it’s not totally awful, it’s full - FULL - of root-destroying grubs. 

The only work that’s come in today was a single completed test (which I wrapped up before I went out) and a project to revamp some of our documents. It’s not a big project, but it’s not a small project, either. I had to go hunt down all the soon-to-be-outdated forms and delete them, then hunt down any WIP-word-doc files and delete those, too. Then I had to scour my own local files and do the same, and zero in on the most current template to work from. THEN I had to get a list going of all the specific things that need to be updated/re-made (13 is the current count). 

What’s left to do? 

Create a first-pass PDF for each of the 13 forms that need to be made 

Create a second-pass PDF of each that includes boss’s signature

Create a final PDF of each with formatted type-in fields (formatting requires: creating all entry fields; individually selecting each field to set font, font size, font color; adjusting certain field sizes because the auto detection is not perfect; renaming all fields so they make sense during the batching process; save final PDF; repeat 12 more times)

Delete all WIP files

Upload all final PDFs to work folders and move to proper local folders

I should be able to get it done today. But. It’s already 5 PM. So idk. It’ll probably end up dragging into the rest of the week. 

[makingabigdealoutofnothing]

CLEAN (part II)

Forgot to post this. Shit. If you need exposition I encourage you to read the previous post, as it is essentially essential to understanding and grasping the importance of part 2… Some say the idea of reading a chronology in the order of its creation is equivocal, but I assure you if you buy into that notion, you're a sad pile of dogshit.

I walked down the stairs from Jerry's spot, and looking back up saw Jerry glaring down at me, lipping the words, “You dirty mother fucker”. I shrugged it off and hit the streets of Hollywood. Walked around, rather. My meter had another hour and 40 minutes, and didn't feel like wasting it. I had nothing else to do with my day than to continue my search for non-skid living. A subtle grumble of hunger, perhaps lack of passion, embraced my body, and, remembering that I was merely 3 blocks away from the In-N-Out, I decided to make the trudge.

I walked past the famous Hollywood High, and had curious Dan-visions of punk rock and Tony Hawk's Pro Skater. Palm trees swaying in my post-homestead dreams of LA, kick flips and cigarettes and hash, anarchy, slapping the bass in front of a drunk orphaned audience.

My nerves turned to a simmer. Everything was fine, I assured myself. Something would come. I had a few other leads, from Little Ethiopia to Koreatown to Los Feliz, home of the happy, something had to come through. Though Jerry, clean freak jewboy fuck, was the only one to have responded thus far.

I crossed Orange Street, and into the In-N-Out, knowing damn well as the name mandates, I'd be back out on the street in no time. There was a line out all the way past the first set of double doors, full of dad-mom tourists and local transplants dressed in full amalgamated fashion of steam punk/lady gaga/vietnam vet/outsiders get-up. So I pulled out my iPhone for the first time since the pre-Jerry encounter.

I had a Facebook message from some friend of a friend, or maybe a friend, what's the difference. There was a spot available in a friend of a friend of a friend's friend's place in Echo Park. Clive, the friend of a friend or friend that messaged me, said there's a ton of other people interested and that I'd better get my ass over there if I wanted to be the number one candidate.

Why not? Maybe it's a steal. Who the fuck is Clive?

I posited my interest and Clive gave me the address.

I hopped out of my place in the line of Hollywood happy asses. My ass was on a mission.

30 minutes later I was at the address. A side street off of Echo Park Ave, about a quarter mile east of Sunset. The house had closed blinds and dead plants on the porch and, contrary to Clive's ardent advice, I was the only one enthusiastically waiting to see the place. I walked up the stairs and knocked on the front door.

Quiet.

I listened. Nothing. And knocked again.

This time I heard some rustling and what sounded to be a small dog's paw-nails skipping towards the door, followed by a not-so-intimidating series of growls and yip-yips.

“What is it, Wrangler?” The female voice addressed her security guard.

The yips became more confident as its owner's steps came closer to the door, and the locks began to open, one at a time.

“Hi. I'm Dan. Clive's friend. You must be Christi.”

“Clive? Who the fuck is Clive?” The girl inquired, with an obligatory yet apathetic confused look in her distant eyes. She was in a Chinese adorned robe and skin was pale. I recognized her from somewhere, but couldn't quite put a finger on it.

“I don't really know either. We're friends on Facebook. He said you have a room available.”

“No matter. Yes, I'm Christi. Come in.”

I followed Christi into her abode. There were vinyls and instruments and furry wardrobe racks littered across the once spacious floors. The smell of incense and something else toasting permeated my senses. I'd smelled it before but it wasn't quite surfacing my mem banks.

“So are you clean?” Christi asked me after she observed my tingling senses.

“Yeah. Clean as a Santa Monica coffee shop,” I responded, with a scripted shit eating grin.

“You're fucking hilarious,” Christi chuckled haphazardly.

“Everyone asks that. I figured I'd make a little joke out of it,” I said nervously. She had a disposition of oooh yeah cool cool entitlement that was a bit unnerving.

“'Cause I'm trying to get clean myself. As you probably know it's not as easy as buying a fucking cortado.”

I glanced around, finally figuring out what exactly I’d walked into. “I sure do.” I needed a place to live. Bad. Even a heroin pad. “It was quite the roller coaster, but I'm clean now.” I guess I just become very agreeable when I'm not in the power seat.

She looked me up and down. We were stopped in the dining room now. There was a torn up couch a few feet from a littered dining table, burnt spoons and empty 2 liter Dr. Pepper bottles scattered. But overall, it was a pretty clean place. A step up from Skid Row.

“Thank god for mental illness,” Christi said.

“Huh?”

“The album. Thank God for Mental Illness,” she said, gesturing toward a suitcase vinyl player spinning and emitting a hardly audible scratchy noise. The volume knob was off.

“Oh right. I knew that sounded familiar,” I responded. “Love those guys.”

“Good. I’m glad you have good taste. And also,” she continued opening the freezer and pulling out some frozen fruit, “there’s some truth to that. I couldn’t afford to eat if I wasn’t on food stamps.”

I proceeded to peek around the house. Christi, who had picked up her little yap-box rat-dog and was stroking it like a kitty, followed me around closely. I could hear her heart pounding.

“I’m guessing this empty room here would be mine?” I asked in a friendly tone.

“Yep, that’s it. Walk-in closet, your own bathroom, AC...Oh fuck! I forgot to ask you to take your shoes off by the door. You mind?”

“Sure,” I resigned, and walked over to the door to stash my Airwalks.

“Thanks. I just vacuumed and mopped everything last week and trying to keep the piss and shit and bugs from the sidewalk outta here. Dig?”

“Of course.” I returned to inspecting my room. I already decided I’d take it if I this junky would let me. Location, perks… and I’d live with damn near anyone over an office job cyclo-square. Hence my current location in Skid Row, and all my lovely neighbors. And the room was great too. Bathroom, walk-in, AC, and… I happened to look up. What appeared to be a dried spray of blood on my ceiling? Whatever.

“I’m very interested,” I told Christi. “When would I be able to move my stuff in?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, I -” Something pricked my foot. “Yow!” Looking down and jolting up my foot I saw a renegade syringe, complete with blood in the inside of the tube, brooding on the floor where my foot had just been.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Christi looked mildly concerned. “You should watch your step around here.”

“Well, doesn’t look like I’m clean anymore,” I timidly chortled. “I’ll bring the deposit tomorrow.”

I actually don’t think the Part 2 is better than Part 1. But perhaps I’ll write another part to make up for it. Fuck it anyways, it’s just my imagination.

[middleages]

Ladies’ Night: Judy McGuire

Who: Judy McGuire

Age: Older than Shakira but younger than Madonna

Where you might know her from: She’s the author of “How Not to Date,” “The Official Book of Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n' Roll Lists” and has written countless features on sex, culture, music, and dating.

Where I know her from: We both transformed from Brooklyn renters into Jackson Heights owners around the same time and were introduced virtually by a mutual Facebook friend in Chicago who I’ve never met in person. We are also founding members of the Jackson Heights Ladies Cotillion (JHLC), an informal neighborhood group of four fellow transplanted women and one man.

We met at Kitchen 79, a neighborhood Thai restaurant, for a few beers because there are nearly no bars in Jackson Heights where women are exactly welcome. You have quite a selection if you’re into Latino sports bars, Latino gay bars, or Latino bars where men pay women to be nice to them. 

Krista: When I asked you originally if you wanted to do this, you were really reluctant to say your age publicly. And I got that because I was scared to even start doing this series because I didn't want people to know that I was over 40. Obviously, people know. It's not a secret. Where does that come from? Nobody thinks that you are 25 but you don't really want people to know your exact age.

Judy: There are a couple reasons. I’m not going to lie if someone asks, but I’ve finally reached the same age my mom was when she died. Also, there's so much age discrimination and what I write about—what I used to write about more—was sex and relationships. And if you're even over 40 and you write about sex and relationships, you're suddenly considered this quirky old crone. You go from that girl who's doing “Slutever” at Vice to Dr. Ruth or E. Jean Carroll, who I think is really cool, but she is a nutty old broad who lives in the woods. Not to mention that Dr. Ruth and E. Jean both have far more cred than I do. But as you get older, people discount you and you become invisible, which is fine on the subway, but horrible when you’re looking for work. I have an elderly friend who I've been friends with for like 30 years, and we would go out to dinner and waitresses would go, "Oh, she's so cute" about my friend who is an intellectual, an adult.

I haven't had plastic surgery or anything like that and my skincare routine is minimal. I'm not vain looks-wise. I just don't want to advertise my age.

Krista: I get it. I was always super opposed to any sort of "work" and then last year I said "You know, I'm just going to get these stupid under-eye injections.” That's so crazy to me because I would never do something like that.

Judy: And you converted everyone. I showed so many friends your picture and they were like “Whoa, I would totally do that.”

Krista: My circles are coming back now. It only lasts around eight months. A few months ago, you were saying that you shaved experience off your resume. And then you started getting calls?

Judy: Immediately.

Krista: So, that's kind of scary. It's ridiculous. I put the year of my graduate degree but I don’t list my bachelor's date. Those were 10 years apart so it implies that I'm 10 years younger on paper.

Judy: Don't you have a bachelor's degree in something really weird too?

Krista: I have a B.F.A. in printmaking. I think it's very strange that in America--or any place--that at 18 you're supposed to know what you are going to do.

Judy: When I was 18, I wanted to be a DJ, so my dad was really a dick about it and would only let me go to schools with good communications programs. I ended up going to a school I couldn't afford, American University, and I had to drop out.

Krista: The only reason I went to art school was because I couldn’t move away for college and it was the least evil place in the city that I lived in. I didn't want to go to community college. It made sense at the time.

Judy:  Did you watch “Ladybird?” I just saw it last night and I was thinking about the going away to college. I am not a “Ladybird” fan.

Krista: I am not either. Why is everyone obsessed with this movie? I didn't dislike it. I'm not crazy about Greta Gerwig, though obviously, she was not in the movie.

Judy: But she was. That's her story.

Krista: I was annoyed because I sort of identified with that family but my parents could never afford to send me to NYU from the West Coast. How would I pay for the dorm? The plane ticket?

Judy: She got a full ride to NYU being an unexceptional student.

Krista: I think it would be a more realistic movie if she had to stay in-state. But everyone loved that movie and said, "Oh no, you just have to see it. It just reminds me so much of me and my mother's relationship." It doesn't remind me of mine at all.

Judy: We had all of the fighting but none of the "I love you." I like Laurie Metcalf. I think she's underrated.

Krista: Laurie Metcalf is in her 60s. Why does she have a child that's like 16? I don't think it was addressed in the movie.

Judy: It was. She did say she got pregnant late.

Krista: So, that would mean she had her in her early 40s, and that's not unusual anymore, I guess.

Judy: When my mom wasn't married at 24 everyone thought she was an old maid. My mom was told she couldn't have kids and did all the paperwork for adoption and ended up pregnant with a miracle baby, me, the first of five. She wanted to keep going, but the doctor said, "You can't. You're going to die." She was really conflicted about birth control because my parents were extremely Catholic. When I five or six, I found her diaphragm, and I thought it was a yarmulke. I marched out into the living room wearing my little “Jewish hat” and she lost her mind, thinking god was punishing her for using birth control.  

Krista: Do women even use diaphragms anymore? I feel like it's very old fashioned. I know IUDs came back, and they're so popular. It's very millennial.

Judy: All the kids are on the IUD.

Krista: I don't want one. I know this is a point we differ on. But I'm 45. I'm not going to get pregnant.

Judy: You're probably not. Unless you end up with your own little Ladybird.

Krista: I don't like the idea of some copper thing in my body. But hormonal birth control probably isn't any better, and I did that for decades.

Judy: Me too. For a while—in my 20s—nobody would give IUDs to women who hadn't had kids or an abortion.

Krista: Switching from kids to marriage—I have weird hang ups about being an “old” bride if I ever get married, but you just finally did it last year. I’m assuming age didn’t matter so much for you?

Judy: It didn't matter at all. I never wanted a big wedding, I hate white dresses, and I think people who get married in their 20s are asking for divorces in their 30s. Wanting a small wedding had nothing to do with age either. I'm cheap and it seemed like a waste of money, and while it was a nice night, I would've preferred a super amazing trip somewhere.

Krista: Yeah, I’m always suspicious of woman getting married in their 20s, especially in New York.

Judy: Spyro's [the husband] family refused to RSVP because I used evites instead of wasting more money on paper. I wanted to just go to City Hall and have a fancy lunch somewhere, but, on the upside, I now have a Le Creuset Dutch oven I wouldn't have otherwise. And no, I don't feel one bit different, but if either of us dies it'll be easier to liquidate the other person's bank accounts. So many people bug you about your wedding in so many weird ways, but a lot of people were truly kind to us too. I just wouldn't do it again.

Krista: Hopefully, it will be your last.

Judy: Regardless of how things go with this one, it's my last! I don't understand how people can go through all that crap multiple times. I guess some people really like weddings. But I wouldn't worry about being an old bride at all. That’ll be the least of your problems—your family will make sure of that.

Krista:  How long have you lived in Jackson Heights? I feel like you are similar to a lot of my friends where they have lived in Williamsburg for eternity, almost the entire time they've lived in New York.

Judy: I’ve been here a little over three years. I lived in Manhattan for a long time, for six or seven years. I was living on the Upper West Side with a boyfriend who dumped me for his coworker. I was in school fulltime and had no money, so a friend found me a house share in Williamsburg, on North 7th between Bedford and Berry. The entire house was $900—with a yard. Moving to Brooklyn definitely felt like a demotion. I grew up in New Jersey and Upstate, so to me, New York City was Manhattan. I felt like I had failed when I had to leave it.

Krista: It feels weird to be the old-timer in a neighborhood. When I moved here in the late '90s I would see crazy old people in their rent stabilized apartments, and then 20 years later, somehow you've turned into that person.

Judy: Oh yeah, there was a coke bar across the street and I would call the cops on them all the time. The owner threatened to sue me because I called it a coke bar on my blog. I was the crazy old lady in the window. "God damn you kids!" But now I'm the new young person even though I'm old.

Krista: Yeah, I was old for Williamsburg and now I'm young for Jackson Heights. I'm not sure if that's better or worse.

Judy: I like being not as old, not as fat, not as unattractive.

Krista: When I bought my place in Jackson Heights, my friend said, "Oh, it's good your apartment is on the first floor because when you get old you're not going to want to walk up all the stairs." Are you crazy? I'm not going to live here till I die. That's someone who lives in a rent stabilized apartment. I thought I might live here 5-10 years.

Judy: Now that rents are so crazy and apartment prices are so high, I wonder what my long-term plan is. I don't know. I don't really have one.

Krista: So, you don't think you'll live in Jackson Heights forever?

Judy: No, I don't think so. Every day I get email alerts for apartments in Chicago, LA, New Orleans, and Kingston.

Krista: Do you consider yourself middle-aged?

Judy: Yes. Or more.

Krista: Really?! At what point did you think that you were middle-aged?

Judy: Because my mom died in her early 50s, I've always thought middle-age was probably like 30. Once you hit 40 you are definitely middle-aged. Once you hit 50 you are kind of kidding yourself that you are middle-aged.

Krista: No!!! For me, it's 40-60 because you're not elderly yet.

Judy: You're never going to be 120.

Krista: It's more colloquial than literal.

Judy: I told Spyro that I was doing this and he asked what you were interviewing me for. I said "Some middle-aged lady blog." He said, "You're not middle-aged!"

Krista: So, he was implying that you are older?

Judy: No, that I'm younger. Because he likes to think of me as cool.

Krista: I decided arbitrarily that 45 is middle-aged, and now I am.

Judy: It's really arbitrary, but there are certain things you can't kid yourself about anymore. Sometimes I still forget how old I am, and there will be a cute guy walking down the street smiling, and I'll think "yeah." He's not looking at me. Or he's looking at me because my fly is open or I have lipstick smeared all over my face or something.

Krista: I said that I was 45 at a bar last night and people were freaked out. I mean, if you're in your 20s, 45 sounds really old.

Judy: That's why I don't get women in their 20s dating men in their 40s. I thought those guys were so old and gross when I was that age.

Krista: When I was using dating apps, I matched mostly with guys in their early 30s. In my mind, I think I'm late 30s, but I'm not. Is there a big difference between late 30s and mid-40s? I guess there is.

Judy: My friend told me the best story about getting old. One of her friends was turning 40, and so a group of her friends all went out to dinner. They were drinking and egging each other on about how great they looked, as women do, and then one of them pushed it too far. When the waiter came over, they told him it was their friend’s birthday and asked, "Guess how old we are?" He shrugged and said, "I don't know, 40?" Derp.

Krista: You don't want to solicit that because you're just going to be disappointed.

Judy: ALWAYS.