#meat ​substitute i tried was awful and the guy was just like Worry not heres how you make things out of canned goods thats Good. smile :)

[cuntstable]

gonna try to cook a recipe a random dude at the store told me on the tuna isle the other day. im placing my tastebuds into this strangers hands….

[seancekitsch]

I was Never Young: A Klaus x Reader fic

Anyways uhhh heres my fic based on the Klaus spin off series!! I made sure not to really spoil anything in the series if u guys haven't finished it yet but it does take place after the series events. there's no smut which is weird for me bc i usually write just smut but like yolo this is where it went.

Klaus had been through the ringer. Los Angeles seems to just be more of the same, so why even leave home? Right, he’d been kicked out and cut off. Well, at least one of those problems has disappeared, he thinks as he pats the ugly little satchel full of money at the side of his hip.

He meanders down the street, no real direction or motive as he shuffles down. The diazepine is starting to wear off, and he’s going to need something to dull the corners of his mind in about an hour. A neon green sign draws his eyes, looks as sick as he’s about to be.

‘Cobra’s’ the sign says, and this one is probably as good as any.

The bar has exactly six people inside of it, he realizes as he pushes the door open. It’s hazy, full of the stale and welcoming scent of menthol tobacco. Perfect, Klaus thinks.

The bartender is a stern looking man, like he used to be a wrestler. Maybe this is what Luther or Diego will look like in thirty years if they don’t eat their wheaties.

There are two other men sitting in a booth by the corner, deep in conversation with one another. They’re boring suits, no one that Klaus could have for company. He’s just looking for someone alive to have a conversation with while he numbs himself. Someone alive, he clarifies to himself. His last friend left for heaven’s greener pastures, which he’s happy for him, but maybe the guy could have stuck around on this plane of existence for a weekend longer.

There’s a couple at the end of the bar that looks like they're on a date. In the middle of the day? Wonder if their spouses know they aren't at work. Klaus laughs out loud, poor bastards.

And then there's you, with your mixed drink, absentmindedly swirling it with your little stirrer. You seem like a safe bet, so his feet drag him over to sit down at the middle of the bar near you. He more or less throws himself into the chair, his feet immediately feeling the relief. He’s still clammy and feverish in the come down, his stomach hurts, but that’s nothing a little booze and sugar can’t help.

You notice the guy as soon as he walks in. Of course you do. After a few years, you start to recognize people even if you don’t know them. You don’t recognize him. He looks paranoid, fresh off a set and worried about what a job will do, for and to him. Poor thing. Probably one of those River Phoenix types. Young, pretty, and overwhelmed.  In teen mags one day, in the obituaries the next. All preventable, hundreds of people that could step in if money meant more than the people around you.

“Hey,” the guy next to you greets you, his voice uneven, watery and cautious. His hands shake a little as he pulls a stack of cash out of his threadbare satchel, pulling a few bills from the rubberband holding it together and flattening them out against the bar.

“Hey, yourself. You new here?” He looks surprised as the words leave your lips, but is interrupted by the bartender approaching.

“Yeah, whatever that special is for today, that’ll do,” he orders like he doesn't really know what to do at the bar. He turns back to you, looking ever so boyish and lost with his big green eyes.

“How did you-?”

“How did I know you're new here?” You throw the rest of your drink back, carelessly placing it at the far end of the bar from you, “Because you don't look absolutely beaten down. I mean, you look a little twitchy, but you look fresh.”

Fresh? That’s not at all how Klaus would describe his look, having not slept in days and having been using an extreme amount of controlled substances, even for his standards.

The bartender slides a glass towards him, and he scrambles to catch it. There’s a total of two umbrellas, a flamingo stirrer, and two straws in it. In all, garish and hard to look at. The bartender takes the money, and they nod at each other.

“You look kinda young to be here,” with that remark, Klaus takes a long sip of the fruity cocktail he ordered, a sickening blue color so intense you bet it could substitute as hair dye.

“You do too,” you quip. You’d been working in this town for a few years now, on and off movie sets and bartending clubs with live acts. This boy? He looked fresh. Like he’s just been taken for his first ride. He looked rough and unused to it.

“How old are you?” he asks,  he can’t place your age or accent. You look just as young as him, if not younger. You sound southern- Boston- Chicago- western and somewhere European he can’t place. Is that what Hollywood does to people's speech patterns? Is that gonna happen to him? But you seem to be as much an anomaly here as he does.

“How old are you?” you mimic back.

Klaus stares in awe as you rest your elbow against the bar, making sure he sees that as you snap your fingers, a cigarette materializes between them. You quickly shift the rolled tobacco to rest between your index and middle finger, ready to place it against your lips.

“Listen, I’m old enough.” That's all you have to say about that.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Sometimes I think I was never young.”

You exhale sharply through your nose, the hint of a laugh.

“Yeah, alright.” You fish around in your jacket pocket for the lighter and ask, “Do you wanna get out of here? Only smoking bar in town, but it ain’t got hotdogs.”

Hotdogs, Klaus thinks, He remembers having sausage back home, but he’s never had a hotdog.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that? You never been to a baseball game or something?”

He shook his head, no. Klaus hadn’t ever seen a baseball game. He knew the history of it, the impact it had on American society. All from a very clinical and academic standpoint. Sports weren’t really his thing.

“Nah, I always preferred activities with a bit more... uh, substance.” He laughs at his own joke, whether you get it or not really doesn’t matter.

“Right, right. So River, what’s your real name?” You talk with the cigarette but between your teeth, lighting it quickly, before the lighter in your hand vanishes from sight.

“It’s….. uh, It’s Klaus.”

You give him your name, and he repeats it, tests the name out on his tongue.

You take a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

“So Klaus, wanna buy us some hotdogs?”

You leave as soon as he finishes his drink, and he talks in a way that he thinks might be too much. But you listen. You’re the first living person that’s actually listened to what he had to say since he got here. He asks about you, your story, but he doesn’t get as much as he wants. You like your smoking, you’re a special effects designer, you dropped out of high school to come out here, and you fucking love Alonzo’s hotdogs.

“Hey ‘Lonzo!” you shout, interrupting Klaus mis sentence, raising both arms above your head, the baggy sleeves of your jacket falling closer to your elbows.

“How’s my kid doin?” The man shouts back. A tall man, with heavy brows and a mustache. “And who’s this?”

“My friend Klaus here just directed a movie! With Vivian Clarke, and the kid’s never had a hotdog! Can you believe it!” Your footfalls come quicker, starting to jog as you clear the end of the block, Klaus starts to shuffle quicker to catch up. When he gets to see the man up close. clear chocolate brown eyes greet him. He looks pretty trustworthy, Klaus thinks, Like Santa Claus, or John Stamos. Basically, like anyone but Dad or Viv.

Alonzo asks all about Klaus’ recent accomplishment, not exactly something he wants to talk about, but he likes that Alonzo is genuinely curious and polite. The only thing you say is “extra relish, on both. Big shot director pays.” during the conversation, focusing more on finishing your cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of your boot. Klaus looks down and the cigarette butt leaves no trace on the concrete.

“So back there,” he says as you wait for your dogs to be handed over, “That cigarette business, are you a magician?”

“Nah,” you say, not fully meeting his gaze, “I’m a Libra.”

You nod at the guy as he finally pulls the dogs over the edge of the cart he operates. Extra relish, just like you asked. When he places the hotdog in Klaus’ hands, the redhead’s eyes go wide. Guess he wasn’t kidding about never having relish, you think.

“Huh,” he starts, dumbfounded by the hunk of grease and meat and relish in his hands, “I’m a Libra too, actually.”

“Guess that’s something about balance or something,” you say, effectively ending the conversation again by opening your mouth as wide as you can to accommodate the sheer mass of one of Alonzo’s hotdogs.

He looks at the meal, his first and probably only for today, and then takes your lead, opening his mouth as wide as he can before finally chomping down on a huge bite of it. The bite is… heavenly. Pickled vegetables and chutneys exploding on his tastebuds, the coolness of it contrasting with the fresh off the grill meat. No offense to mom or Pogo, but none of their cooking could ever hold a candle to this street hotdog.

“Good, yeah?” Your voice, distorted by a mouth full of food, breaks his almost nirvana like trance.

“So good,” he tries to say, mouth just as full as yours. He finishes chewing, swallows with a huge gulp.

“You got any more food spots to show me?”

[infernalshadowtheif]

Synthetic Blood

After taking over her father's company, Lena Luthor spends her time trying to develop a safe man made synthetic blood for medical science and maybe for herself and her kind too of course. You see, Lena is technically human but she is also technically a vampire, well more of a half vampire that's more or less human except for her extra abilities and vitality. As she tries to develop a Blood substitute her brother Lex attempts to steer her away from the light and back down a dark path that has always beckoned her to walk down.

[Look, vampires are kinda cool and I've been meaning to finish this idea that I literally dreamed about last year so let me know if you guys like it, hate it, or have ideas for it yeah? I'll post it on Ao3 later.] Words: 3,036K 🙃

Lillian took the cold metal brush handle in her hand, making it up to her hair, and started to brush through the already smooth tresses of hair on Lena's head.

"On to more pressing matters, it seems we won't be hunting for a while, seeing that the humans are now more aware of our kind since your brother started his little war with the Kryptonians." The aimless brushing continued a bit rougher than before but not painful.

"How are we to feed then mother, how are you going to feed? I am obviously already prepared but I know you prefer straight from the source." There was a slight hesitation in the last stroke of the cold brush.

Lillian set it down slowly almost methodically as she turned away and towards the moonlit window behind them.

Lena looked after the older woman cautiously.

"Mother?"  Wearily she stood from the vanity mirror and closer to Lillian’s side. 

She received a click of a tongue as an answer before she sighed.

"I hated how it reeked on his body, your father I mean, I hated how the smell of artificial blood was always stuck to him, it reminded me of that awful white meat substitute that some humans love in place of real meat."

"Tofu mother," Lena added helpfully as Lillian sneered further at the window and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. 

"Yes, that was it. He always smelled of his fake blood, you already adopted his tendencies to not want to drink from the source of what we need to survive, which is fine but I’ll never understand it." She turned her head to Lena almost puzzled.

“Well mother I know that this situation will be harder but I’ll try and figure something out for us. I'm sure I can maybe synthesize something more to your preferences if need be." 

Lillian wasn't the warmest parent compared to most others but after Lex went on with his blood-war with the aliens, she saw that Lena was more stable than she originally thought, especially compared to her son. So through great effort and shattered pride, she tried her best to bridge the gap between her and her daughter as best as she could, trying to make up for years of neglect and misplaced scorn.

With a defeated sigh Lillian finally turned to look at her youngest,

"Thank you, dear, I know you'll try no matter how many times I say I'll be fine. I just want you to  use that brilliant brain of yours for more than just little old me, I'm content with the choices and endless amount of repenting I have waiting for me when it's time." Lillian never smiled at Lena, at least not often, especially as a child, but the one she gave her at that moment was the best one she'd ever seen.

“I think we all do mother. Thank you for taking care of me and letting me wait out the sun for today, I lost track of time again.” Lena lightly skims her thumb over the still healing blemish on her arm, if she were a full vampire like the rest of the Luthors in her family she would have lost it or simply turned to dust as her father did.

“Any time dear, this is still your home too, no matter what your brother claims.”

Lena almost cries, such simple words that her past self would have never dreamed of hearing from the woman before her, Lena simply nods in acknowledgment and heads back out to her car to get back to her apartment.

The drive back to National City is quiet, the long highway back lets her mind playback the hellish day she had, to say she’s dreading the minute she has to see the cities resident Super would be an understatement.

She saw me, I know she saw what I’m capable of. Or at least that I'm definitely NOT human. 

Lena’s thoughts turn darker as she imagines the red-caped hero’s look of repulsion and utter hate when she does truly figure out that she’s a creature of the dark, or, at least half of one.

Her mind spirals further down the dark hole of fear of what she will do with her, so much so that she missed the new set of headlights quickly coming closer in her side-view mirror.

When it finally caught enough to slam into her back bumper she quickly snaps out of it and tries to keep her own car on the road and away from the sheer drop of the mountainside to her right.

“Fuck! Now, what!?” The vehicle sways again as the car behind her clashes into hers, she took one of her more pedestrian cars today so her usual horsepower she’d use to escape is severely lacking this time as another hit on her life is in motion again this week. 

So much for going incognito.

The shattering of her rear window makes her jump, the side of her car slamming right into the metal railing, seeing the lack of ground on the other side has her heart drop right into her stomach as she tries to get control again. 

Big nope to that.

Another pop was registered in Lena’s brain as she finally lost control of her car, her vision spinning just as quickly as the car itself.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I swear, I'm going to stake you myself when I deal with your pets, Lex!” Sweating out of panic, Lena decides that trying to outspeed them won’t happen while in her brick ford car, she figures that she just might have to use some of her power for this one.

Her car makes a sudden stop as the front end crashes through the metal railing at the edge of the road, she was lucky the car became wedged into the twisted metal otherwise she would have had a very unfortunate freefall over the cliff.

Dizzyingly, Lena pries her hands from the steering wheel, her death grip making her bones ache as she tried for her seatbelt next. The sound of car doors slamming shut jumpstarts her heartrate, flooding her system with adrenaline. 

The shadows in the headlights get closer, the sound of a gun reloading, four sets of boots crunching on gravel as they round her car on both sides. 

She is actually scared now, her right shoulder twinges painfully as she tries to rip out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Ah, shit.” They actually hit her it seems, her white blouse is starting to bleed red down her arm the more she struggles on the belt.

A balding man crouches down into her window, his eyes are glazed over, his face is twisted into a sickening grin. “Hello halfy,” He sneers. “Your big brother wanted us to check in on you this fine night, he was deathly worried for your health as of late.” 

His gaze snaps to her bloody shoulder fixated on it for a second or so as he takes a deep breath of warm fresh blood, his dull eyes start to pool red as he takes another lung full of bloody air.

Lena shudders in disgust tilting her face away from his, he reeks of death and rot, ghouls were her least favorite creature that her brother had in his employ.

“Enjoying ourselves are we?” She mutters as his eyes roll open again.

He hums in delight. “He did say your blood was more or less mortal, it's almost humanly sweet.” his smile widens, some kind of old meat seemingly stuck in his teeth and gums as he appraises the state of her and her battered car. “Shame you didn't drive your nicer car, we could have stripped it for parts, but ah, oh well. We’re only here for you tonight then sadly.” 

A creaking noise shook the car as he ripped her driver’s door clean off its hinges, Lenas heightened smell was shocked by a wall of death the bald man oozed when he leaned in to free her of her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car by the scruff of her blouse.

Still dazed and newly freed from the metal deathtrap, Lena saw this as her last chance to try and escape from her brother’s lackeys. “I may smell human but by no means does that mean that I’m weak like one.” Latching onto the ghoul’s arm with shaking hands, Lena uses his own weight to counterbalance them both into the loose dirt and flipped herself over again to grab for his throat. She hates to use it but her power has to be used now before what little blood she does drink wears off and leaves her completely defenseless, she’ll have to kill him quickly.

His body starts to convulse as she uses her hand to tear into his fragile throat, black rotten blood oozing over her fingers as his body finally stops thrashing about. She’s still aware of the three heartbeats of the other goons as she finally stands up, her glowing eyes lock onto a man with mousy brown hair, his own eyes are terrified. They all are.

These ones are all human, two are just boys compared to her own age, and they’re all frozen stock still like rabbits to a fox.

Lena is shaking, she doesn’t kill humans, she won’t stoop to her brother’s level. “Leave, go home and forget about this whole night, I don't want to kill any of you. This man was not human, he likely would have eaten you all after my death so take this as an act of mercy. Please.”

The youngest is seems to want no part so he tossed down his weapon and dragged the other two back to their vehicle, the older ones still frozen and staring at the rapidly decaying body of the now-dead ghoul. “Let’s get the hell out of here guys!”

The car ripped out and back onto the highway leaving a wobbly and drained Lena in the dust, “Ugh!” She shrieks in anger as she kicks the rotten body in her rage. 

Before she can take out more of her frustration on the dead ghoul she hears a familiar chime of her phone’s ringtone, or more specifically, Karas ringtone. 

“Shit. Movie night, I was supposed to be at Karas tonight.” Grumbling as she whipped her bloody hand on her jeans, she bent over to pick up her cracked phone to answer her friend.

“Lena?” Lena sighed, “Hi Kara, I'm sorry for not calling you back, I seem to have run into some car trouble on my way to yours.” Glancing over to her clearly totaled car she winced at the sight of it, “Well more like it's completely totaled now.”

On Karas’s end of the line, she heard a crash and rushing of footsteps, “Ohmygosh! Are you okay Lena?? Where are you, I can come to get you or send my friend to help? Please tell me you’re okay..”

The brunette felt her eyes well up with tears, she really didn't deserve this human known as Kara Danvers, she really didn't. 

“I'm off of creek falls and the main highway near the cliff drop, I'm no worse for wear sort of, I'm standing on my own two feet at the moment so I’d say ok, for now anyway, I definitely need a shower and a lot of sleep after this though.” Lena tried to joke but didn't hear Kara anymore, just a rush of air against the microphone.

Confused Lena checks the line, “Kara? Are you still there?” 

“Y-yeah Lena I'm still here, um, please don't be mad." Now that made Lena pause. "What? Why would I be mad at you?" 

The wind in the earpiece lighted up a bit, "I'm almost there, I'm picking you up, I called Alex she'll be on her way too okay? Was there another car involved or an animal run across the road?" Panic gripped at Lena, Kara can't see this mess! Let alone the rotting ghoul body at her feet, she wouldn't understand!

"Kara, wait, it’s alright I already called the authorities and everything, it'll take a bit but I'm fine right now, also don't drive while on the phone! I don't want to be the cause of yet another accident tonight." Lena hear Kara scoff into the phone, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm definitely not driving, I don't even have a permit." She chuckled at her own expense.

Another pause.

"I'll be fine, just promise not to be mad when you see me? Yelling is fine but don't hate me, please." Anxiety wasn't a common thing for Lena but right now she can feel it clawing up her throat and she swallowed down her guilt of having her sweet fragile Kara seeing what her own monstrous hands are capable of. 

She trusts Kara with her life, she'll have to trust her with her dark secret now. "Only if you promise me the same, it’s a mess over here and I'm certain that it'll be horrific for you to see why." 

Kara hummed in thought for a second, "Well duh, I could never hate you Lena, or any other bad emotion towards you really." She said carefully like if she said it louder Lena wouldn't believe her.

"Ah wait, I think I see you? Oh." Kara whispered then the line went dead.

Lena was sitting hunched against her busted car, looking around confused at the lack of vehicle, Kara nowhere in sight. Letting out a ragged breath Lena let her head fall back with her eyes closed, praying that Kara would listen to her explain the scene before her.

The brunette’s eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand on her good shoulder, to say she almost shit a brick would be putting it very lightly because right before her was Supergirl, but in Kara Danvers' sweats, T-shirt, and a very red cape with no socks or shoes to top it all off. Being shocked would be a very light word for how Lena is at that moment. 

Super- uh, Kara is pretty much herself while she looks Lena over,  making soft cooing noises as she checks over each scrape and bruise, she all but balls her eyes out when she shifts Lena's shirt to check the gunshot wound. 

"Lena, Rao, I should have listened further out for you, if I was listening I could have stopped this." Lena was a bit slow to process her words but she quickly bounced back and stupidly asked, “Kara? You’re not human?” Kara stilled her hands, “Yeah. I'm sorry I kept it from you ‘till now, I just could never find the right moment to tell you. I was going to try again tonight if that’s  worth anything.” 

Kara did look nervous, wary that Lena was angry about her lying for so long, but instead of being angry Lena just full body laughed at their predicament.

As light tears started to form in Lena's eyes Kara nervously held the brunette's hand. "Lena? I don't know if laughing should make me feel nervous or happy right now." 

Lena chuckled a couple more times and pulled the blonde into a relieved hug. "I've been an idiot, I've been trying to bring up the fact that I'm not human either for the past year Kara, so right now I think it's a bit ridiculous that you've been worrying about the same thing." Lena definitely didn't miss the full bodied twitch Kara did after hearing her say this, she understood though, Lena is technically human but only partially. It was briefly a one sided embrace until Kara hugged her back with almost all her strength, leaving Lena only mildly squished but overall content.

Their little bubble was immediately burst when a black SUV pulled up to blind the two of them, a bedraggled Alex dressed in her own pajamas and combat boots holding a shovel, "Kara. Tell me why did you text me 911 please  bring a shovel! At 1 am Kara- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??" 

Alex is out of her car and right by Kara's side almost instantly when the once thought to be dead ghoul flips onto its side to drag its to Lena, grossly gurgling its black blood as it crawls over to the trio.

"That would be what's left of my brother's newest hit and sent to check in on me. He's a ghoul so I probably should have made sure to take the whole head off inside of ripping her throat out." Lena extracts herself from an equally shocked Kara and tugs the shovel out of Alex's limp fingers, "Please pardon me, I'll give it right back." 

Alex looks at her dumbfounded, Lena shrugs as she turns back to the ghoul clearly annoyed beyond belief. "I would say have a nice trip given that you're going straight to hell but I really don't appreciate what you did to my car, " she glances over at the once upon a time pristine white paint job and cringes at the many bullet holes and scratches.

"Actually I'm more pissed that I had to meet you at all, so, bye now." 

She raised the shovel as high as she could with her good arm and swung down with all of her might, the ghoul let out one last hiss as the head fell from his body. 

Exhausted Lena looks back at the gawking Danvers sisters, "Help me clean this up and I'll get you both whatever food you want and could eat for a month?" She was almost certain Alex was going to shoot her up until that offer was in play, both sisters bolted up and came over to help.

"You're also going to fill us in about whatever the hell that thing was and why he worked for your brother." Alex stated as she waved her hand in Lena's direction in an almost protective voice.

"And about the not human thing." Kara mumbled as she grabbed the creatures legs over to the deepening hold Alex was currently working on.

With a big sigh of relief Lena nodded, vowing to answer whatever her two friends asked her.

"Deal."

[csauce-and-chips]

The Tipsy Side

Word Count: 2,032

Featured: Thomas Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remy Sanders

Pairing(s): Prinxiety, Logicality (though not mentioned).

Universe: Human AU

Synopsis: Thomas has to make sure his friends have a safe time drinking at a party. What he discovers about his intoxicated friends is shocking.

_______

Thomas had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

Being the youngest amongst his group of friends had its advantages and disadvantages. One disadvantages is not being old enough to drink. Of course this sucked for him, and Patton had apologized about it many times before the party really kicked in, but Thomas had just said it was fine.

"You sure, kiddo? I can just hang out with you if you want!"

"It's ok, Patton. I want you to have fun! Someone's gotta be responsible."

How naive he was.

It took only half an hour for the party to really kick off. If you could call it a real party. There was at most 20 people there, however, that didn't stop them from getting wild. Particularly a certain group of four Thomas kept his eye on.

Shockingly, the very dramatic and Disney fanatic got drunk first. Thomas wouldn't have expected him to be a lightweight, but it only took him two shots to get him going. At first, he was laughing and shouting at the house's Alexa to change it to different Disney songs. And then, Thomas delved into the madness of his drunk friends for the first time ever.

A usually flashy and ambitious Roman stumbled over to Thomas at his spot on the couch. It had been about an hour and a half since the party had started and Roman was a mess. Thomas, of course, was a little concerned.

"Roman-" Thomas took his hands to carefully sit the older man next to him, trying to make eye contact with the wasted prince. "Woah, hey now.. you ok, Ro?"

For a moment, all Roman did was blink at Thomas like he was talking in rhymes. Then a goofy, soft grin spread across his drunk face. Thomas stared at him in confusion as Roman flopped against his shoulder, laughing softly.

"Hi Thomas~ you're warm.."

"Uh.. Roman?" Thomas chuckled as his concern mixed with his amusement. "Maybe you should take a nap?"

"Whaaaaat? Thomash- Thomas??" Roman paused in confusion as he squinted at Thomas' jeans as if they contained all the answers. "What was I sayin..?"

"I said you should take a nap?"

"..." Roman broke out in a slurred giggle fit, patting at Thomas' leg like a silly child. "I love you, Thomas~"

Thomas chuckled as he tried to think of what to do next with Roman to take care of his silly drunk friend. That was, before he heard a very loud shout from the kitchen.

"FUCK YOU- NO, NO, SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!"

Thomas let out a soft sigh as he stood carefully, moving a pillow to where he was sitting so Roman could lay down.

"Stay here, bud. I'll bring you some water, kay?"

"Thomas, you're so nice to meeee," He could hear Roman start up again as he had already left to push through the small crowd to the kitchen.

Knowing his friends, Thomas was pretty sure that Logan was behind all the screaming. Though Logan was a really intelligent and calm person, he had a temper he's seen jump out on many occasions. Different shouting sprees, but he always managed himself quickly. So this had to be Logan, unable to contain himself with alcohol in his system, right?

Wrong.

Stepping into the kitchen, Thomas was surprised to see Patton, who was pushing at a familiar face with an usually pissed off look on his face. He had a bottle in hand and it was clear that he was drunk.. still... this was a bit unbelievable for anyone who's met Patton.

"YOU'RE- YOU ARE SO FUCKING MEAN!" Patton was half shoving, half swatting his victim into the counter behind him. "YOU JUST MAN- MANIPULATE EVERYBODY AND IT'S SO FUCKIN RUDE-"

"Patton- uh- friendo-" Deciel had his hands up defensively as he bared the brunt of Patton's drunken rage. Can't say he didn't deserve it for what he's done in their high school days, but he's proven himself better since then. Patton seems to have forgotten about.. All of that.

"DON'T FREE-ENDO ME PAL! DO YOU WANT ME TO FIGHT YOU?? I'LL FUCKIN FIGHT YOU RIGHT HERE, IT'LL BE PHYSICAL-"

"Uh, Patton?" Thomas placed a hand on his friend's shoulder carefully, unsure of what his friend was capable of in this state.

"WHAT-" Patton turned quickly, maybe too quickly, but catching himself on the counter at the last second. He squinted angrily, his bottle clanking against the counter.

Thomas sighed as he rested a hand on his friend's arm and cut him off. "Patton, it's me, Thomas. You're getting aggressive-"

"THOMAS HE HURT-"

"I remember, I remember, that was back in high school, remember?" He made eye contact with Patton and rubbed his arm. "Remember how it's been six years since you've been in high school, dad?"

One thing that really seemed to draw him back into the moment is the way Thomas called him dad. Patton opened and closed his mouth a  few times before he let go of his bottle and he sighed heavily.

"..'M drunk."

"That's right. You got it pops." Thomas lead Patton to the kitchen bar and sat him in a seat, grabbing two glasses and filling them with water. "It's ok. Just try to take it easy, kay?"

Patton nodded as he took one of the waters. "M'kay.."

Thomas gave him a smile and a pat on the back. "Thanks Patt."

"Thomas!" Thomas looked up and was surprised to see Remy, who looked pretty drunk himself- however, Remy was excellent at handling his liquor. "Hey Rem. What's up?"

"What's up is that your friend has been in the bathroom for like-fourty minutes and I'm seriously going to snap his neck if you don't get him out of there!"

"Friend?" Thomas circled around the counter to Remy who lead him upstairs. His first idea was that it was Virgil, because his anxiety probably got to him, and he decided to hide out in the bathroom. Of course, just his luck, he was wrong again.

"Logan?"

Logan sat in the bath tub, curled up into himself. He had his face buried into his arms which were wrapped around his knees. His hair was a mess and his tie was dangling from the edge of the sink. So, yknow, it was weird to think that this was his friend Logan.

"Thomas..?" Logan lifted his head out of his arms but still had to rest his cheek against his forearm. His face was caked with tears, his eyes red and his skin blotchy from crying.

Thomas felt awful seeing him like this. Remy had already abandoned the bathroom for now, so he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Lo.. what's going on? What's wrong?"

It was clear by the way his bottom lip quivered at the question that that alone had bothered him. Thomas plopped himself on the toilet seat, prepared to listen to his drunk friend.

"I'm drunk Thomas.. imma mess"

Thomas waved it off and put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Don't worry, Lo, everyone else is a mess too-"

"B-but that's just it!" Logan's voice cracked ad he looked desperately at Thomas through half-lidded eyes. "I'm- I'm supposed ta' be reshponsible! I'm supposed ta' be everyone's mom! What.. what am I supposed ta' do if I can't- can't-"

At this point, Logan was a bumbling mess of sobs and drunken slur. The bottles in the sink and on the counter surface suggested that Logan's drank the most so far. It hurt Thomas' heart to see his friend like this, to see him try to drink his troubles away to only get hit 10x harder with it in this state.

"Logan. You don't have to be responsible for the others all the time."

Logan sniffled as he frown heavily at Thomas, looking ready to cry again. "What'aya mean..? I need.. I need to know you-" a hiccup, apologies "-you, you guys are all acc- accounted for-"

"Look Logan, it's ok if you aren't being the responsible one all the time. We appreciate everything you do for us, you don't need to stress yourself out with us all the time."

His glossy eyes stared at Thomas' clear ones with drunken surprise as a "really..?" Slipped. As if he didn't know that they all appreciated him.

Thomas smiles gently. "Of course, Lo. We may not say it all the time, but we appreciate you. We love you so much. You do know that, right-?"

He fell quiet as he saw Logan had his eyes closed, his breathing still shakey but evenly rhythmatic. Thomas sighed as he stood from the toilet seat, adjusting his friend so that he was laying down in the tub rather than bent over and worse for his back when he inevitably awoke. A towel yo substitute as a blanket wasn't that bad either..

Just as he had placed the deep green material over Logan, someone crashed head-first into the bathroom.

At first, Thomas expected it to be a party-goer he didn't know that was hurling in the toilet he had been sitting on moments ago (thank god for wanting to get up). But instead he found the face of his final drunk friend, hair messier than usual and his shirt.... gone?

"...uh, Virgil?" Thomas asked in lingering surprise as his friend finished loudly vomiting, just the sight of it making him sick to his sober stomach. "You ok?"

Virgil huffed over the toilet bowl as he turned his head to look at Thomas. Every move he made seemed to make him dizzy. However, he didn't seem mad, or upset at all from hurling. What surprised Thomas the most was the perverted grin plastered all over his friend's face.

"Mmm.. hey Thomas~" Virgils voice was the heaviest with alcohol, a hum of pleasure behind it. His eyes were dazed and intent on looking over Thomas' entire figure like he was a hungry animal. "Mhmmm, I'm fuckin' faaaaantastic!"

Before Thomas could say anything, Virgil had shoved himself to his feet. However, it wasn't very steady as the boy stumbled, practically throwing himself into Thomas' arms as he pushed his hands onto his younger friend's chest with a look of stupid desire.

"Virgil..!" Thomas had a red tint to his cheeks as he tried to hold up Virgil's weight so suddenly, while feeling extremely uncomfortable by his actions. "Virgil- please just-"

"Jus' what, pretty boy~? Ya.. ya seeeeexy peice'a meat, hmmm?"

My God, if this wasn't the most uncomfortable thing ever, Thomas wouldn't know what was.

Thomas took a breath as he pulled on a stern tone. "Virgil, your boyfriend wouldn't be so happy if he found out you were flirting with me. Or am I wrong?"

Virgil fell quiet and his smirk dropped. Something seemed to shift in his eyes as he frowned, gripping slightly at Thomas' shirt.

"Wha's- where's Ro?"

"He's on the couch." Thomas sighed ad he realized what was going on. He hated seeing Virgil anxious again, slipping back into himself, but it was much better that when he was being touchy-feely. Plus, he knew Virgil wouldn't want to hurt Roman like that on purpose. "I'll take you. Here.."

Thomas adjusted himself so that he had an arm around the slightly smaller man, flushing the toilet on the way out. He made sure his fumbling, highly intoxicated and highly anxious friend got down the stairs and to the couch safely, glad to see that Roman was well passed out on the couch- oddly curled up with an innocent expression he never seemed to wear.

Virgil seemed to focus more when he spotted his sleeping boyfriend. Thomas let go as Virgil stumbled a little to lie a tad awkwardly next to Roman on the couch. Virgil seemed happy enough but well on his way to passing out hard.

"Mmm.. thanks, Thomas.." Virgil mumbled softly as his eyes closed contently. He would be glad the next morning when he figures out he didn't do anything unscenely with his youngest friend.

Thomas couldn't help but smile, relieved. He glanced around at his friends on the couch and in the kitchen. All asleep, all taken care of and accounted for. He made sure that he had set out a water bottle for each of his friends, along with ibuprofen, for when they all inevitably awake the next morning.

Needless to say, taking care of drunk idiots isn't easy. You never know what to expect. But if there's one thing that Thomas learned tonight was that no matter what surprises come his way, his friends were still his family- still the people he loved more than anybody else in the world.

Thomas made a mental note to scold them all in the morning, anyways.

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 3: My experiment is tested by weekend socializing

Hi friends. Happy Saturday night! Tonight I’m blogging about the events of yesterday, which I think was probably my most uneventful day so far on this dietary adventure... at least in terms of shopping and prepping interesting new meals. Both breakfast and lunch were covered by leftovers - we still had half the burrito bake left and then we polished off the salad and zoodles for lunch. According to the order of recipes as given by Dr. G, our next dinner would be spinach and mushroom black bean burritos. I took a look at the recipe. It looked like one of the simplest ones yet. A can of black beans, some minced onion and garlic, some chopped mushroom, a few handfuls of baby spinach... and then some seasoning in the form of savory spice blend (already prepped), cayenne pepper (duh of course I’d have that), summer salsa (already prepped), and then Dr. G’.s “Healthy Hot Sauce (see page 8)”. Psh. This was going to be nothing after all the cooking I’d done yesterday. Today would actually feel like more of a “normal” day where all I really had to worry about cooking was a quick dinner. It felt good and right for a Friday. Time to unwind a little, you know? We also had plans that night to meet up for a game night with some friends who had recently moved back to CT after a few years out west. 

The one thing I’d have to stop and prep before throwing together these vegan burritos was the “healthy hot sauce” but I didn’t think that’d be a big deal. I had purchased several big handfuls of fresh red chiles at Big Y that morning. The guy bagging my groceries had raised his brows. “Habaneros? Oh, man. I wouldn’t eat those,” he shook his head. I smiled politely and thought to myself, Shit. I had never cooked with habaneros before. I hadn’t realized that’s what these peppers were; the bin had only been labeled “hot chiles.” (Does anyone else’s grocery store have this tendency not to specify which fresh chiles are which?? It’s annoying honestly!) I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll just... use less or something if I need to, I thought doubtfully. The cookbook hadn’t specified what kind of chiles to use, it’d just specify that they be “fresh hot chiles, a single type or mixed.” I had gone for the red ones because I’d liked the idea of a traditional red hot sauce. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about my choice, but no turning back at that point. 

Oh, and in case you wondered how my second trip to the grocery store this week went - MUCH easier! I didn’t end up needing nearly as much stuff the second time, in part because I still had tons of produce left over from my earlier visit this week and I also had less pantry items to purchase this time (didn’t need to return to Whole Foods, thank god). I did end up picking up a big container of unsalted roasted almonds and then lots of blueberries from the farm stand because I was really going to need more fast snacking options if I was going to make it through these two weeks without stuffing granola in my face. Even with two pints of blueberries and 22oz of almonds, my bill was definitely improved from last time. I’ve still spent a lot more on groceries this week than I normally would, but I had expected as much. Hard to avoid it when you’re replacing cheap staples like eggs and toast with a heaping plate of fiber every morning. 

Alright so back to the point aka what I expected to be a totally easy day of food prep. All I needed to prep that night were some simple burritos, this “healthy hot sauce” alternative, and then a snack to share when we went to see our friends. I had decided on the edamame guacamole recipe in Dr. G’s book. Since you obviously want your guac to be as fresh as possible when it’s eaten, I’d wait until we got pretty close to our planned departure time to throw it together. I figured it’d take like ten minutes maybe. 

Sam got home early and was eager to help me prep dinner like the gem that he is. “Honestly, we can probably wait another half hour or so,” I told him. “This isn’t going to take that long to prep or cook.” So we got started around 5:15. We wanted to be at our friends’ place for 7:00 so that seemed like plenty of time to cover a quick dinner and then throw together the guac. 

Except then I flipped back to actually read the “healthy hot sauce” recipe more carefully. I blinked as I realized it wanted me to cook down the chiles for nearly half an hour and then “allow them to come to room temperature.” Would have been no big deal at all... if I had bothered to read this an hour earlier. Whoops. Shit, I thought. Within ~10 seconds I decided screw it. I really wasn’t feeling too confident about those habaneros anyways and we still had a big jug of Frank’s hot sauce in the fridge. Definitely not a whole food, but what the hell was the harm of adding a tiny bit of a normal condiment here or there? I looked again at the burrito recipe. It said to just add hot sauce to taste. We could probably just skip it entirely then. Great. Problem solved. I’ll use those chiles and try to make the hot sauce another day, I thought, doubting myself even as I said the words in my own head. 

As expected, the spinach & mushroom black bean filling was super quick to prepare and cook. One thing I’m realizing is that the cooking process for a lot of these meals is honestly a lot simpler than meat-based meals (or at least so long as you have your fancy hand-made condiments, salsas, sauces, raw cashews, etc etc prepped in advance...). The vegetables often only need a few minutes to cook down, you don’t have to stop to wash your hands every time you handle a piece of raw meat or egg, and, of course, you don’t have to worry about actually cooking any animal protein. Just cook those veggies down some, season them to your liking, and you’re golden. And speaking of seasoning, I did end up adding a bit of Frank’s to the mixture in the pot. But just a splash okay! 

Aw yea. And then here’s a burrito topped with the salsa before it got devoured (it was super messy btw): 

The verdict for this one? Tasty... but again, it needed salt. I haven’t been tasting the food for saltiness before sitting down to eat it because I’ve been trying to stick to Dr. G’s sodium substitutes/replacements but I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last! I actually would have liked to see what it tasted like with some fennel seed added in; I always remember one black bean taco recipe I made ages ago that I loved mainly because of that spice’s inclusion. It’s a nice way to trick your brain into thinking you might be eating sausage. 

We cleaned up the kitchen and it was a little after 6. Our friends only lived 15-20 minutes away. “Let’s wait until like 6:30 before we put together the guac, so that it’s fresh,” I told Sam. 

This was to end up being a major mistake on my part. So, first of all, it was definitely a risky move to decide to bring something like “edamame guacamole” to a social gathering. People are really freaking opinionated about what guacamole is supposed to taste like (myself included, admittedly). I’d had edamame before and I figured its addition would go mostly unnoticed under the flavors of lime, cilantro, jalapeno, etc. 

Looks like the right set-up for the makings of a perfectly normal and tasty guacamole, no?

Sadly, it really just didn’t come out good at all. I tasted it and actually winced. There was a sharp bitter flavor that took me completely aback. “I think the edamame is throwing me off,” I told Sam, who had also tasted it and looked as uneasy as I felt. I wasn’t sure what else the issue could be if not the obvious interloper ingredient. I’d even insisted we add in some kosher salt even though Dr. G, of course, called for his “savory spice blend” instead. Guacamole without any actual salt is a freaking crime, I’m sorry Dr. G. “Add more lime juice maybe?” I suggested to Sam, as he was the one who had thrown it together (have I mentioned that he’s the best?). I also added a bit more salt. 

We tried for a long time to salvage that guac. We added plenty more lime. More tomato. We even decided to blend up another avocado to try and mask the admittedly weird presence of the edamame. I tried it again and still winced a little. It still had a bitter bite to it that we couldn’t seem to mask. “I think it might not even be the edamame... it seems like it might be the jalapeno,” I told Sam. Well. This sucked. I’d just bought a handful of jalapenos fresh from the farmstand that very morning. For maybe the first time ever, Johnny Appleseed’s had let me down, and they had let me down hard. 

We were running pretty late at this point. We hemmed and hawed about if we should stop at the store and pick up something else to bring but in the end we decided to grin and bear it, and off we went to see our friends, subpar homemade guac and freshcut veggies in tow. Our friends were perfectly polite about the guac (we had told them why we’d been late), but let’s just say it definitely wasn’t the hit of the evening. Sigh. Our first foray into sharing a Dr. G recipe with friends had not exactly gone well, but it’s hard to say whether it was the recipe itself or the bitterness of that pepper. I do know that if I made that recipe again, I’d add even more salt, cause honestly Dr. G, if even a metric f@*!-ton of vegetables every day isn’t enough to save my arteries from hypertension, I’m not sure they deserve saving anyways. 

We had a nice night seeing old friends and meeting some new ones. I will say, though, that I was agonizingly tempted by the cookies that were set out for any guest to grab. They were the huge chocolate-chip/M&M ones from Stop and Shop and anyone who’s ever been at a party with me knows I love those things, damn it. I tried not to stare too jealously at everyone else as they ate their cookies and instead I ate a couple of slices of watermelon. I’ve actually never been a watermelon fan, but at that point I was willing to take whatever acceptable form of sugar I could get! And you know, it was honestly pretty good. 

We got home around midnight and I kicked off my shoes, still sighing at Sam about how badly I had wanted one of those cookies. Unsurprisingly, he had no sympathy for me and my self-imposed first world problems. It was past our bedtime but I didn’t want to go to bed, I wanted to plop on the couch with a cookie and a beer, or maybe a nice glass of wine. Just yesterday I was writing about how surviving my first complete day of only plant-based whole foods hadn’t been that hard, but now it was Friday night, a night when Sam and I normally celebrated the end of another work week with some sort of indulgence - a dinner out, a trip to the ice cream stand, a bottle of wine or a six-pack... hell, sometimes all three. I changed into my pajamas and thought about the fact that all of my favorite vices in life seem to involve putting large amounts of sugar and/or a few drinks into my bloodstream. It admittedly didn’t seem awesome for my longterm health to be doing that even as often as once a week. And we’d still had fun that night without any of that, right? Right. 

I dutifully stuffed a final late night snack of some unsalted peanuts into my mouth and ten minutes later brushed my teeth and went to bed. Survived another day and managed to cheat only a tiny bit with my defiant pinches of kosher salt and splashes of Frank’s red hot sauce. 

Hope you’ll be back for Day 4′s write-up tomorrow, friends! Here’s a bonus: an action shot of Sammy the Sous Chef getting our veggie platter ready: 

Gadget rec of the day: A good blender! Most of us already have a blender I think, but if you really want to incorporate more whole foods and produce into your diet I think a good blender is an absolute must. I’ve only been following this diet for three days and I’ve already used our blender more times than I can count on one hand. 

Music rec of the day: “Sophia” by Laura Marling

[thelastspeecher]

NaNoWriMo ‘17 Day 12 - Wild Woman

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

Summary: Stan comes across a werewolf in the forest.  Inspiration from here.   Word count: 1918

Part 2

               Splash!

               Stan looked to the left, startled.  Nothing was there.  He was still the only person sitting by the stream.

               Probably just a fish.  Stan scowled at his fishing rod.  But if it was a fish, why the hell haven’t I caught one yet?  He had decided to take a break from helping Ford out with his research, and try to catch some fish in the stream he’d spotted last week.  I deserve a break.  I also deserve to catch some fish.  Where’d they all go?  He sighed and reeled in his line.  Maybe there aren’t any.  Figures that I’d find the only stream that doesn’t have any-

               “Pfft!”  Stan’s head whipped around.  He gaped at the sight of a completely nude woman, climbing out of the stream, sputtering.  She collapsed onto the bank across from where Stan was sitting and closed her eyes.  

               “What the fuck?” Stan whispered.  The woman’s eyes snapped open.  A crimson flush spread across her face.  She and Stan stared at each other in silence for several moments.  “Uh…you okay, lady?”

               “That’s a loaded question,” the woman said carefully.  Stan frowned.

               “Not really.  What, did you escape from a mob hit?”  He shook his head.  “Nah, that can’t be right.  There’s no way there’s a mob here in Gravity Falls.”

               “Gravity Falls,” the woman repeated.  “Where- uh- which state is Gravity Falls in?”

               “Oregon.”

               “Sweet sarsaparilla.”  The woman sat up.  “How on Earth did I- hey!”  Stan’s gaze had traveled south of her face.  “Eyes up here, sir!” she snarled.  

               “I mean, it’s not like I can see much.  You’ve got so much mud caked on you, it’s like you’re wearing clothes.”

               “But I’m not, so stop it,” the woman said firmly.

               “Fine.  But seriously, lady, are you all right?”

               “…No.”  The woman groaned and put her head in her hands.  “I remember what happened, I just- I have no clue how I ended up so far from home.”

               “Sounds like you don’t really remember what happened, then.”  The woman glared at him.  “Okay, geez, chill.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “Maybe…maybe tell me your name?”

               “Angie.  And yours?”

               “Stan.  My brother’s got a place not far from here.  If you want, I could take you there, get you some clothes, a shower.” Stan’s stomach rumbled.  “And food.  I mean, I’m hungry.  In the state you’re in, you’ve gotta be starving.”

               “Hungry like the wolf,” Angie deadpanned.  

               Kinda weird way to say it, but whatever.

               “You’ll have to come over here.  His house is on this side of the stream,” Stan informed her.  Angie bit her lip, clearly hesitant to follow a stranger somewhere.  She let out a sigh after a minute.

               “Okay.”  She crossed the stream, but stumbled on the bank while she tried to climb up.

               “Here.”  Stan held out a hand.  Angie took it with visible relief.  He pulled her up.  “Um…you look cold.”

               “I’m covered in mud ‘n water, but not much else.  What do you expect?” she asked, shivering violently.  “Which way’s yer brother’s house?”

               “That way,” Stan said, pointing.  Angie turned around.  Stan eyed her figure.  “But, uh, if you’re cold, I guess you could take my jacket.  Don’t really need it right now anyways.”

               “Really?”

               “Yeah.  It needs to be washed, though, just so you know.”  Stan slid off his jacket and handed it to the shivering woman.

               “So do I.”

               “Heh.”  Angie zipped Stan’s jacket up.  It was exceedingly large on her; it nearly reached her knees.  “Hey, bonus, you’re not flashing the entire forest anymore. Or maybe that’s a downside.”

               “Definitely a bonus,” Angie said.  She hugged her arms close to her chest.  “It was this way, ya said?”

               “Yep.”  

               “And is it just a straight shot there?”

               “Yep.  Let’s go.” Stan grabbed his fishing rod and tacklebox, then the two of them set off, Stan close behind Angie.

----- 

               Stan hummed to himself as he made lunch.  

               Nothin’ like good old-fashioned scrambled meat.  There was a small cough behind him.  He turned.

               “Those clothes all right?” he asked Angie.  She nodded silently.  Freshly showered and wearing some clean clothes, she looked more human than she had in the forest.  “They were the closest thing to your size I could find.  Looks like they’re still too big, though.  You’re a lot smaller without all the mud and twigs and leaves.”

               “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Angie said idly.  “It’s better ‘n prancin’ ‘round in my birthday suit.”  She looked down at her feet.  “Thank you, again.  Ya didn’t have to help me like ya did.”

               “I know,” Stan said with a shrug.  “I coulda just pointed you in the direction of the road, sent you on your way.”

               “Why didn’t you?”

               “I know what it’s like to end up in a strange place, with jack shit.  It sucked.  I coulda used someone to give me clothes or let me shower or whatever. And I can’t really leave a pretty girl with a nice ass like yours alone in the woods.”

               “Lord,” Angie mumbled, rolling her eyes, but still cracking a tiny smile. Stan eyed her.  

               “I also know what it’s like to be targeted by the mob.”

               “It wasn’t a mob hit.”

               “Dammit.  I was hopin’ you’d cave in if it said it like that,” Stan muttered.  He grunted.  “Go ahead and take a seat at the table.”  

               “Mmkay.”  Angie sat down at the table and gazed around the kitchen with interest.  “What does yer brother do?”

               “Research.”

               “Oh, he’s a scientist?”

               “Yup.”

               “And you help him with his research?”

               “In a way.  I’m muscle. Help him carry things, or fight off monsters and stuff like that.  The person that helps him with his actual research is his assistant.  Skinny, twig-like guy.  He’s the person who owns the clothes you’re wearing,” Stan said, nodding at her.  She pursed her lips.

               “Don’t seem like he’s got much of a sense of fashion, then.”

               “Oh, hell no.  You should see the clothes I passed up for that.  Ugly-ass green splotches, bell bottoms.  I mean, I don’t care about fashion, but I do care about how messed up his style is,” Stan said passionately.  Angie giggled.  Stan stared at her.  

               Fuck.  That was cute.

               “Where’s yer brother and his assistant right now, then?” Angie asked. Stan looked back at the stove.

               “Fuck if I know,” Stan mumbled.  The front door opened.

               “Stanley?” a voice called.

               “In the kitchen!” Stan shouted back.

               “All right, we’ll come meet you, then,” Ford said.  Stan glanced at Angie.  She had picked up a plastic spoon, and was staring at it with unbridled interest.  

               Sweet Moses, please tell me she knows what a spoon is.

               “Oh, uh, just so you know, we have a guest,” Stan said loudly.  

               “What?  Stanley, don’t invite people over without consulting me first,” Ford said grumpily, walking into the kitchen.  He sighed upon seeing Angie.  “What on Earth is going on here?”

               “Found her in the woods,” Stan said.  

               “You found her in the woods?  Stanley, she could be any number of dangerous magical creature!” Ford said angrily.

               “Or she could be some girl who got lost and needed help,” Stan ground out.

               “Stanford, be reasonable,” another voice said.  “Stanley’s got good intuition.  Now, mind gettin’ out of the way so’s I can see our guest?”

               “Very well.”  Ford stood to the side.  “You’ll be angry too, once you see that Stan dressed her in your clothes.”  A silence fell.  Stan looked over at Angie.  She was staring slack-jawed at Ford’s assistant.  Stan frowned, looking back and forth between the two.  His eyes widened.

               “Holy fuck.”

               “Angie?” Fiddleford squeaked.  The plastic spoon Angie was holding fell from her hands.  She nodded silently.  “Lordy!  You’ve been missin’ fer three months!  Where have ya been?”

               “Places,” Angie mumbled.  She looked down at the shirt she was wearing.  “Should’ve known these were yer clothes.  Yer the only person who likes shirts as awful as this.”

               “Do we have to discuss fashion now?” Fiddleford asked, sitting at the table next to her.  She eyed him warily.  “Angie, we were so worried!  The baby of the fam’ly, just up and disappearin’?  Ma ‘n Pa were apoplectic.”

               “Wait, Fiddleford, this is the missing sister you’ve told me about?” Ford asked.  Fiddleford nodded.  Ford stared at Stan.  “And Stanley just so happened to find her in the woods?”

               “Don’t say I never did anything for you, Fiddlenerd,” Stan said. Fiddleford didn’t respond, instead continuing to stare at his sister.  She leaned away from him, her eyes wide.  “Okay, dude, chill out.  You’re scaring her.”

               “Don’t tell me how to act ‘round my sister,” Fiddleford snapped.  Stan rolled his eyes.  Fiddleford abruptly reached out to take one of Angie’s hands.  She let out a small shriek and fell off her chair.

               “D-don’t,” Angie stammered.  “Don’t move so fast.”

               “Wha- sis, what’s wrong?” Fiddleford asked.

               “Fiddlenerd, I found her in the woods, naked and covered in mud.  She looked fuckin’ feral,” Stan informed him.

               “Feral?  Naked? My baby sister?”

               “Yep,” Stan said with a nod.  “But she insists it wasn’t a mob hit.”

               “Of course it weren’t,” Fiddleford said firmly.  “Angie, what happened?”

               “Don’t wan’ talk about it,” Angie mumbled, still on the floor where she had fallen.  

               “We should give ya a checkup.  I’ll find ya a doctor,” Fiddleford said.  

               “I can take her vitals,” Ford suggested.  Angie eyed him suspiciously.  “It won’t substitute for a proper doctor’s visit, but it should let us know whether to take you to the hospital right away or not.”

               “Okay,” Angie said reluctantly.  She climbed onto her chair again.  Ford sat down next to her.  She held out her wrist.  “Fer my pulse.”

               “Of course.”  Ford rested his fingers against her wrist.  He frowned.  “Very rapid heartrate.  And your skin feels warm.”

               “I just showered.”

               “Still.  If you continue to feel warm, we should take your temperature.”  Ford fished around in his pockets and pulled out a small flashlight. “I’ll check for a concussion.”  He shone the light in her eyes.  She blinked.  “Stop blinking.”

               “My eyes don’t like the light.”

               “Hmm.”  Ford frowned at her.  “Would you mind rolling up your sleeves?”  Angie seemed confused, but did as she was told.  Ford nodded silently.  “As I suspected.  Fiddleford, look.”

               “Lord!” Fiddleford gasped, staring at a large bite mark on Angie’s forearm.  “What happened?”

               “I suspect she was bitten by a werewolf.  That would explain her disappearance; initial transformations can last months until the individual is sufficiently shocked enough to turn human again.  It would also explain the reports we’ve been hearing of a large wolf.”  Ford shone the light in Angie’s eyes again.  She grimaced.  “Werewolves have eyes sensitive to light, and their eyes will glimmer in a distinctive way. The rapid heartrate and high temperature are also signs of lycanthropy.”

               “Angie, is this true?” Fiddleford asked, aghast.

               “I doubt she recalls anything of her time as a wolf-” Ford started.

               “It’s true,” Angie interrupted.  She looked down.  “It’s true.”

               “Damn.  I was way off,” Stan said.  Angie pulled her sleeves down again.  “What made you turn back human?”

               “I fell in that stream, tryin’ to catch a fish,” Angie mumbled.

               “Okay, I get why you didn’t wanna tell me the truth,” Stan conceded.

               “Yer all just acceptin’ this?” Angie asked.  “I- I just confirmed that I’m a werewolf.”

               “We’ve seen stranger things in the woods here,” Ford said.  Stan nodded.

               “So far, though,” Stan said, “I think I like stumbling across a naked woman the most.”