#my edible kicked in as i wrote this and i had a shit day so i apologize if this doesn't make sense

[lesbeet]

i have a question about the list about zionism and antisemitism, the one that's dont "tell Jewish Israelis to "go back where they came from". i understand that there are jewish settlers that will have difficulty moving somewhere else, but doesn't this still perpetuate that colonizers have more of a right to the land than the people who they killed to take it? like the assumption is if we don't tell colonizers they should leave, then they have can stay and continue to occupy the land and resources that were stolen from palestinians

i feel like a palestinian person (or someone else who has been victim to colonization) can answer this better than i can, but i personally have never seen actual palestinians calling for all jewish israelis to remove themselves from the land completely. i don't think the only options are "jewish israelis stay and continue to oppress palestine" or "all jewish israelis vanish from the land without a trace" and imo suggesting so only perpetuates the idea that all palestinians/muslims hate all israelis/jews and have no interest or willingness to cohabitate in a scenario where all people are treated as equals (i'm not the person to ask regarding HOW to make this happen tho)

also like......i know this isn't the problem or responsibility of palestinians who lost their land to colonizers, but where should the jewish israelis go "back to"? setting aside the argument of jewish indigeneity altogether, as that post mentioned, many jews who initially relocated to israel (like post-shoah, not present-day) did so because they were being persecuted in the countries they were coming from. many of those countries are still not particularly safe for jews, and would DEFINITELY not become so in the event of a mass migration. i feel like you're picturing a country full of european and american olim who made aliyah in the last several decades bc of israeli propaganda/intentional annexing of land, but that's not the majority by any means.

again, that's not to say "oh well, they're already there so it would be pretty shitty to make em leave, palestine will just have to deal" but like. it's not realistic and it's also not what anyone is asking for. palestinians just want equal rights and to have stewardship over their ancestral homeland. and yknow, not to be physically and emotionally and socially eviscerated for the crime of existing in a politically frought (and politically advantageous) region. probably some reparations, and rightfully so. nobody is going to forcibly expel the israelis - if anything, some will leave on their own bc they're too racist to give up their privilege and continue to live there as equals, and the rest will be people living in a multiethnic, multifaith country

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congratulations on 700!! May I request Magenta Rooster? Our lovely Corazon is so clumsy to begin with and I really wanna see how clumsy he can get during drunk/high sex (I'd love to see him high af tbh) some fluffy smut would just be 🤌🏼 chefs kiss

When I read this request from @firefistussy I screamed because it's the cutest thing I've ever heard in my life. As a stoner who loves dorks and high sex, this was the perfect set up.

Under The Influence (18+)

Pairing: Corazon x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Drunk/High Sex

WC: 2000

Warnings: I wrote this high on 20mg of edibles (I felt it was appropriate for this occasion, but sorry babes if it sucks ass) high sex, marijuana usage and mention, p in v sex, unprotected sex, OKAY JUST LIKE A BRIEF SECOND OF BUTT TO V BUT DONT DO THAT, ITS FUNNY FOR THE PLOT, fingering, creampie, breeding, clumsy idiot cora, awkward sex, cute cora tho.

— —

It was a hell of a day. 

From sun up you had been busy with paperwork and handling purchase orders for the Don Quixote family. You hated being associated with such an infamous family, but they always paid your salary on time and that was what mattered. Being a member of a notorious pirate family came with another perk… you never had to worry about running out of weed. The Don Quixote family was dealing in markets much darker than marijuana, so they had no problem keeping your supply full. 

All you wanted was a hot shower and to lay up on your couch with an obscenely large joint. And so, you made plans to do that after retiring to your quarters for the day. You rolled yourself the perfect marijuana cigarette and set it down on your pink mirrored tray (a “gift” from your boss) next to the lighter. Next, you stripped yourself of your sweaty clothes and started the shower. 

Once hot enough, you stepped through the foggy glass door and submerged yourself under the water. You let out a long sigh as the hot water soothed your tired body. You take the time to tenderly massage your scalp while you shampoo and condition your hair. Once the products were rinsed out, you lathered your body in the sweet vanilla scented body wash that the men around you always commented on. 

After your shower, you hopped out and dried off before you wrapped yourself in a short, black terrycloth robe. You towel off your hair and return to your bedroom where you flopped onto your loveseat and grabbed the lighter. You bring the joint to your lips and light it carefully so that it burned evenly. 

You throw your head back against your velvet throw pillow as the first clouds of smoke hit your lungs. You kick your feet up entirely so that you can recline on the couch as you continue to smoke. You weren’t sure how many minutes had gone by before you heard a gentle knock on your door. 

*tap tap*

“Come in…” You shout as you exhale smoke. 

The door opens but you don’t turn around. 

*thunk*

“Shit-“

You hear the lamp on your end table rattle. 

“How did you know I was up, Rosi?” You smile and take another hit off your joint, knowing exactly who it was without sitting up and turning your head.  

“The whole place can smell that you’re up. You’re not exactly discrete.” Corazon says with a smirk as he walks towards the couch. 

“I wasn’t trying to be.” You grin and tilt your head back on the pillow so you were looking up at his imposing figure upside down. You hold the joint straight up so that it was near Corazon’s face. “Come take a hit?” You asked. 

Corazon shook his head but didn’t back away. 

“I shouldn’t. I’m still on the clock.” 

“You’re always on the clock… with that monstrous brother of yours… come on, a few puffs won’t hurt.” You coo as you wiggle the marijuana closer to him. Corazon sighs before plucking the joint from your fingers. 

“You know I can’t say no to you…” He huffs as he sits opposite your reclining form on the loveseat. His large stature requires you to put your legs up and crossed on the back of the couch to make room for him, your robe riding up your nude thighs a bit. Corazon catches himself ogling your exposed skin and adjusts his gaze. He takes a long drag from your joint and you raise your eyebrows expectantly. 

He starts coughing immediately, violently.  

“Gods, Rosi take a drink.” You giggle as you hand him your glass of wine. He chugs several sips and then catches his breath. 

“It’s been awhile…” Corazon chuckles and tries to cover for his inexperience. 

“You’re so cute. Just shotgun it from me.” You smile and take the joint from his large, outstretched hand. His huge fingers made it look comically small. 

“Just… what…?” Corazon looks up at you with his brows furrowed. 

You laugh again and sit up to cross your legs in front of you on the couch facing the blonde man. 

“I’ll smoke, and blow it in your mouth. It’s less harsh for you that way. Come here.” You say as you straighten up and beckon him closer. 

Corazon looks nervous as he leans closer to your much smaller frame. 

You suck in a large hit and reach out to grab the back of his head and gently pull his mouth to yours. You breath the smoke out slowly into his open mouth, lips just barely ghosting each others. Corazon inhales the smoke and breathes it out much easier this time. 

He pulls back and smiles down at you. 

“That was better…” He laughs. 

“I liked it too… come here.” You whisper as you take another long drag. You pull Rosinante by his hair back to your lips, pressing them together lightly this time before exhaling the intoxicating smoke. 

“If I was speculating… I’d say you were trying to get me high, Miss y/n.” Corazon says as he breathes out another cloud of smoke in your face. 

“Hmmm and what would be so bad about that?” You muse as you prepare to give him another hit. You deliver the thick smoke straight to his lungs while darting out your tongue to swipe across his bottom lip, teasingly. “Afraid you might not be able to resist your subordinate with your guard down?” You whisper into his lips. You unfurl your legs and rest them on either side of Corazon’s body. 

Corazon blows out his smoke. He shifts his body so he’s hovering over you. 

“Who says I’m resisting?” Corazon smirks. 

“Kiss me, Rosi.” You softly plead in your dazed state. You drop the almost finished joint in the ashtray beside you. 

Wordlessly, Corazon presses his lips firmly onto yours as he cups your cheek gently with one hand, the difference in pressure sent your mind swimming. He tasted like both tobacco and marijuana. He slid his tongue past your lips to explore the rest of your mouth sensually. You sighed in approval and he slipped his hand up your bare thigh to rest at the juncture of your leg and body, squeezing your flesh teasingly. 

You buck your hips with need. 

“What do you want, y/n?” Your massive blonde lover asks you. 

“Touch me…” You say quietly as you spread your legs fully beneath him. 

“As you wish…” Corazon whispers as he moves his hand from your hip bone to swipe two fingers down your slit and back up, wetness from your hole coating his large digits. He circles your clit gently, and you whimper, the marijuana heightening every sensation. 

“M-more, Rosi.. w-want to feel you inside…” You plead as he teases your clit with soft pets. 

“You know how I feel about saying no to you…” Corazon smiles before plunging those two fingers into your quivering hole, a deep groan leaving you as he crooks them upwards immediately into your favorite spot. 

“Shit.. yes… just like that…” You say as you grip the blonde locks at the back of his head, bringing his head closer to your chest. Corazon uses his other hand to rip your robe open as he balances carefully on his knees, he then delves into your right breast with an eager mouth. He suckles desperately at your erect nipple as you melt into his touch. 

“Just a little more, yes, fuck Rosi!” You thrust your hips up into his palm so that it would rub against your clit while the pads of his fingers hammer into your g-spot. “Shit, right there… I’m gonna cum, fuck!” You pull harshly on Corazon’s hair as you see stars and gush all over his large hand. 

You breath heavily and loosen your grip on the back of Corazon’s scalp. You sooth over the patch that you pulled on with soft strokes of your hand. 

“Good, love?” Rosinante pulls away from you and asks. 

“Yes, just take me to bed now, please.” You demand with a wicked grin. 

Without needing another verbal reminder of how he’d always tell you yes, Corazon picks you up in his strong arms and carries you to the bed. 

“Fuck-“ Corazon huffs as he trips over your discarded high heels and flops the both of you onto your purple comforter unceremonious. 

You can’t help but giggle up at him, shocked he’d survived this long on earth with how clumsy he is. Choosing to ignore his misstep, Corazon attacks your neck with nips and bites, sending you immediately back into the mood. Your head was still so fuzzy from the weed and now the orgasm, that you shivered under his rough kisses. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” Corazon whispers into your skin.

You gladly obliged and sluggishly toss your robe off and position yourself on your hands and knees on the bed. It took far longer than it should, due to your inebriated state, but it gave Corazon the time to strip himself of his own shirt and pants. He comes up behind you wearing nothing but his pink love-heart printed boxer shorts. Swiftly, he tugs down his underwear and lets his painfully erect cock spring free and prod at your soft skin. Corazon’s head was swimming with intoxication and arousal as he smoothed one large hand over your spine and nudged the head of his cock into you with the other. 

“Fuck me, Rosinante…” You coo as you push you ass back into him. 

“Yes, mama… Anything you want…” Corazon pushes his hard member into you and sinks about two inches in before you yelp and push your hands back against his abs. 

“Cora! Wrong fucking hole!” You grit out as you whip your head around at him. 

“Gods! Sorry! Fuck!” Corazon jumps back in surprise and pulls himself out of your ass, even though he had just dipped his tip in. 

“Lower!” You hiss out. 

“Right, shit, sorry baby…” Cora grips his hard cock and shifts it lower and finds your drooling hole without any more difficulty. 

“Yesssss…” You moan out as Corazon bottoms out inside your wet walls. 

“Fuuuuck…” Corazon groans as he begins to thrust his hips against yours, lost in the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. 

“Harder! Fuck, Rosi, harder!” You yell as your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Anything for you… OOF-“ Rosinante grunts as he loses his balance on top of you and ends up pinning you to the mattress on your stomach, slipping out of you in the process. 

Frustrated, you groan. 

“Get on your fucking back.” You push him by the shoulders and flip his body over. You straddle his waist and align his weeping cock up with your clenching hole. 

“Please give it to me, mama…” Corazon whines at you. 

It was such a beautiful sight, high out of his mind, drooling on himself trying his best not to slam his hips up into you. You oblige and sink yourself down on his massive cock. You grin stupidly as your pelvis reaches his, his public bone tickling your clit. 

You brace your hands on Corazon’s massive torso as you begin to grind yourself back and forth on top of him, making sure his length was rubbing against your g-spot with every movement. You couldn’t help but moan as you begin to get closer and closer to your second peak of the evening. You grunt like an animal as you grind yourself to the edge of another orgasm.

“I can feel you getting close…” Corazon whispers out as he grips your ass with one hand and wraps the other gently around your throat. “I’m close too… want you to cum so you can milk me dry, baby… just let go… use me…” 

With those filthy words you finally snap and release all over Corazon’s thighs and abdomen. 

“Fuck!” You cry out and throw your head back. 

“There it is, stay there and take all of it…” Corazon grips you by your shoulders and pushes you impossibly far down on his cock, causing you to whine at how it pushes against your cervix. 

“So… full…” You sigh as you collapse into Corazon’s shoulder. 

You can hear laughter rumble from your lover’s chest. 

“I’m tired, too.” Corazon says. “Best we go to sleep before we raid the kitchen.” 

You immediately pick your head up from the crook of his neck. 

“Oooh, kitchen?” Your eyebrows raise. 

Corazon rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll fix you a snack.” 

— — 

Hope you enjoyed!

Xx Mo 

[hime-memes]

                       * Chaotic Besties V-Day Edition *

These starters have been created by request: “ Could you make some platonic valentine's day starters for muses who are chaotic friends? “ So, below are my best attempts at some chaotic best friends doing the absolute most to be menaces on Valentine’s day ! 

As always: Feel free to change anything within these starters that you see fit to make it work for your muse & the receiver’s muse !

Recommended For: Chaotic & platonic muses/plots/timelines.

Trigger Warnings For: Alcohol use mentions, swearing, slight innuendo. 

“ Come on, ( Name ) -- we should go to that art gallery you like so much ... The tickets are half price for couples ! ... We can even make fun of the stuffy old people using pretentious artist jargon to repress their horny in the nude statue exhibit ! “ 

“ I bought some chocolates for us to split for the occasion ... but, if I’m honest -- I got hungry on the way here and ate them all. I saved you the pretty box though ! See ? It’s sparkly ! “ 

“ As much as I’d love to stick around in your weird nerd den with anime in the in the background, and Mrs. Tinkles the teacup chihuahua growling lovingly from her hell perch, but ... I’m gonna go do something destructive in the name of platonic love and set fire to your ex’s station wagon. “ 

“ I hate how the radio plays all the dumbest, corniest, and unbelievable love songs all in one day ! And what ? They just expect us to not call them as their power company and threaten to shut everything down if they don’t give us a break from the madness ?! “

“ Listen ( Name ), I know someone ... Codename: Clementine. Word is, if we supply the time ... they’ll guide us through a minor petty crime. So, wanna commit a little valentine’s day mayhem with me ? ” 

“ If I eat another candy or chocolate covered something -- I’m gonna be si -- !!! Oh ! Are those chocolate covered strawberries ?! I love those ! “ 

“ Listen, you said you never got a love note before: so -- I wrote you one. Hey ! Shut up -- It’s a love letter minus the kissy-kissy smoochy-smoochy stuff ! “

“ They say people do reckless things in the name of love ... so, I think we should go wreck some shit to take our minds off this holiday ! “ 

“ Look out your window ! I spray painted a valentine’s day mural in your yard ... with your spray paint ! Before you look though -- just know: your car was in the way.“ 

“ Oh, that’s not fruit by the foot you’re eating. That’s edible underwear and you’re lucky you grabbed the one on the left because that one wasn’t use -- Oh my god ! Spit, ( Name ) -- you grabbed the wrong box ! “ 

“ I wrote you a really sweet song and set it to some music ... of course, I’m gonna beatbox it, ( Name ) ! You know me almost as well as I knew you’d love this ! “

“ We could go see a movie ... but, the only things playing today are rom-coms and you’re going to get kicked out for good if you throw your drink at the screen again and heckle the protagonist. Promise you won’t do that ? “ 

“People think we’re two halves of a whole idiot and I think that’s real love, actually. “ 

“ We can always find a cringy bit of erotica to read out loud. We could even trade off reading the characters, and give them voices, and everything ... You know what ?! Let’s make it a little party ! I’ll start making snacks ... you find the worst rated erotica and we’ll get this party started ! “ 

“ I got us matching stuffed bears ! Ignore those kids crying in the corner -- they traded fair and square ! “ 

“ I tried to make us a nice little dinner, but ... considering all the smoke pouring out of my oven, we should probably just get some take-out for our valentine’s day shindig. “ 

“ Happy Valentine’s Day ! ... Hey, don’t cover the camera while I facetime you from the comfort of my toilet ! That cheap candy you gifted me put me here ! “ 

“ There was this person at your door, dressed really nice ... had some chocolates and flowers in hand. Don’t worry -- I told ‘em to get lost because this is our Pal-entine’s day ! “ 

“ I’m gonna help you get a real date, ( Name. ) I can’t stand sitting here watching you play a dating sim and crying when the wrong character falls in love with you. It’s sad ... and not in an endearing way. “ 

“ Oh ... so I misunderstood the concept of ‘ love-bombing ‘. This is, uh, pretty embarrassing for me considering I’m usually the smart one. “ 

“ We could always get matching tattoos -- I think the tattoo parlor is doing mystery valentine’s day ones for, like, $200 or $250 a pop ! I’m gonna get a lipstick print on my butt cheek so Valentine’s day can always kiss my ass ! “ 

“ What did Saint Valentine do that was so great anyway ? He was a physician or some shit that got murdered in the 3rd century. Wow buddy, everyone dies eventually ... you aren’t that special, you don’t deserve a day for yourself ! “ 

“ The champagne at this Valentine’s Day dance is only complimentary if you drink it quickly and secretly enough ... so, don’t get caught and don’t get any on that outfit I brought you because I only rented it. “ 

“ I hate that people only think of romantic love on valentine’s day. Yeah, maybe we’re only friends, but emotionally ? ... It’s like our souls are naked & playing Xbox in the same room. That’s beautiful to me ! “ 

“ Hey, we don’t have to be dating for me to show you I love you. What says ‘ I love you ‘ more than my mixtape with all the music that reminds me of you ? ... I didn’t even put ‘ Rack City ‘ on there as a palette cleanser. “ 

“ Listen -- at the risk of being cursed or turned into a tree ... you look prettier than Aphrodite ! “

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Ghost Wedding: The Remix

So, uh, here’s the first actual fanfic I’ve written, and the first full length piece I’ve written in literal years. I wrote it for my own amusement, after weeks of eating up various bits of TWST lore and scenes and going “But, how would the whole Ghost marriage story have gone with a Yuu who was more like me a goth bisexual disaster?

What follows is a series of vignnetes, starring a Yuu who’s the only girl in NRC, with deeply questionable taste, told in the second person. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, I crave positive feedback and like when other people enjoy the things I like.

Contend warnings for blood, body horror, emeto, coarse language and pretentious word choices.

You've been here a while. En-Arr-See wasn't precisely a safe place, what with your dorm being a condemned hellpit of tetanus and black mold, and powerful magicians having mutagenic psychotic breaks only curable by kicking their ass so hard it flies out their mouth. But certainly, it wasn't boring, and you'd made friends. You had your scrappy ginger Ace in the hole; your serious mamas-boy Deuce; your funny little not-a-cat Grim. Hell, you even have your Horned Boy, he of the poison-coloured eyes that never seem to leave your face when you talk about fun things like books and music and the moral imperative of dissolving the monarchy. And, you were on speaking terms with a good chunk of others. So, when your favourite little robot came up to Crowley, yelling something about ghosts kidnapping his brother, you took his hand and said, "Ortho, show me what's going on." After all, you won't let anything happen to Idia. You have plans for him yet.

~*~*~*~

Some beauties might launch a thousand ships, and in your (objectively correct) opinion, while Idia's beauty wouldn't lead to a ten year siege of Troy, he'd certainly convince everyone attending Whitby Goth Weekend to haul off into the sea with a beat of his lashes. The first time you'd seen him, you'd simply stared in slack-jawed awe. He was luminescent; even leaving behind the fiery hair that flashed and swelled behind him, his eyes were a bright clear amber, and his skin translucent, with his own blue veins serving as the detailing in the marble. Add in the deeply circled eyes and the bluish discolouration of the lips, and the figure he presented was arresting, astounding, more beautiful and unreal than anything you'd conjured up after staying up all night reading ghost stories. "Magnificent," you'd said to yourself, and if your friends gave you a strange look, well, fuck 'em. They have no sense of beauty or taste.

Unfortunately, the intensity of your gaze proved too much for him, and he'd fled. You'd had no time to pursue the object of your infatuation either, class would soon begin, and Grim was yelling. Later, then. There's all the time in the world to ask after the fine young man with the lamplight eyes.

~*~*~*~ "Oh no," you said when Ortho showed you the video. "She's really hot."

Grim gawked and Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you take from this?"

"You're the one with an all-boys school. What's a girl like me to do when a pretty girl pops up?"

"She's a ghost, Yuu."

"That's the best part."

"My brother-"

"I'll help you, dear." You set a hand on Ortho's shoulder. "He must be so frightened, right? I'll do what you need." 

Before anyone could say anything else, a racket started up outside, and things got a little busy.

~*~*~*~ "Do you mind if I sit?"

Idia looked up at you. starting at the intrusion. His face was awash in blue from the conjured screens around him, his lips gone black. "...Why?"

"Tables are full. I'd rather not eat standing." He didn't explicitly say no, so you settled across the table, a few chairs down. He made a fascinating tableau as you picked at your lunch, flicking through and typing at the screen. Lines of code, schematics for all sorts of tech, occasional comics all flit across the pane of light in a million shades of blue. Until...

"Could you pretend I'm a bug?"

You squinted. "What." What the actual hell did he mean by that.

"Pretend I'm not here. I'm beneath notice."

You stop for a moment and smile, faint enough that he can't see the devil in it. "You want me to treat you like an insect."

"Yes." Hard to see in the light, there was a small twitch by his temple, a barely perceptible shake in his long fingered hands.

"Alright." With that, you slide down the table to directly across from him, settle you chin in your hands, and stare at him unblinkingly.

"?!?!?" The squawk he made was undignified and deeply, deeply endearing. "What are you doing?"

"You asked me to treat you like an insect." You smile at him, full of mischief and good cheer. "So I'm looking at you very closely. I'm taking in every sweet action, and delighting that the day has conspired to put something so wonderful in front of me."

Oh, who would have thought that this blue boy could turn so pink! As he pulled his hood up, you chuckle and move back to your tray. "I'll let you be," you say, and did indeed, for the amount of time it took him to close up shop and flee back to the depths of Ignihyde. When you waved at him as he went by, he nearly tripped in his haste.

~*~*~*~ "Stop laughing."

The boys did not listen.

"May others show you the kindness you've shown Idia if you're in a bind."

"You're just mad because she's gonna kill your-"

"Grim? Shut the fuck up. Now; who's helping."

After a chorus of 'no's, you drag your fingers through your hair. "I hate all of you so fucking much right now... Ortho, your ideas?"

Ortho's idea was deeply enticing but Crowley would not have the school leveled, and thankfully, the two of them threatened and guilted the others into helping. You'd have to say thank you later, but god, then Crowley might think you actually liked him instead of just finding him funny, and who needed that in their life?

"Alright, so... A plan?"

~*~*~*~ As badly as he might've liked to have escaped, there was only one empty seat in the class, and it was by him. So, Idia threw his hood up, along with his headphones, and started blatantly ignoring you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." A faint grunt and he turned away from you.

"Shroud," you intoned in the most sepulchral tone you could, setting you hand in his field of vision. He whipped his head at you, the fire in his eyes nothing compared to the changing colours on his head.

"WHAT."

You raise your hands in supplication, trying to still your racing heart. "I'm sorry dude. I wanted to ask where you got your screens?"

"My screens?" His eyes flicked back to his schoolwork, hovering in the air. "I made them myself."

Your face lit up in awe. "That's amazing dude, holy shit. How'd you do that? It's a damn miracle."

"Ah... well..." Two sides warred within him - pride that someone recognized his tech genius, and his deep seated anxiety that anyone trying to be nice was just fucking with him. Fortunately for both of you, pride won out. "It's certainly something complicated for a magicless normie like you to understand." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you really want to hear?"

You fixed him with a level look. "Never call me that again. Now, start like I'm five and go from there."

He stared back at you, and you stared right back. "Indulge me, Idia."

He gave you a smile full of sharp, crooked teeth, and while you tried to still the palpitations the sight of them gave you, he started with very basic theory, and went from there.

~*~*~*~ "You are not going to seduce the ghost bride, Yuu."

"Why the hell not?"

"You're a girl?"

"You're kinda plain."

"You're fat."

"She's probably straight?"

You point in turn at Leona, Azul, Vil, and Kalim. "So?, no I'm plenty hot actually, get fucked, and... Okay, That is a good point. But Kal, you have no idea how many straight girls I've managed to kiss."

"I think you'd die, Shrimpie," Floyd said as he flopped heavily over your shoulders, giggling as you attempted to untangle yourself. "And you're short."

"Yeah, but you have no idea how hot I am when I'm actually try- Shut up, Vil - Like, I clean up so good you guys. I even made a suit a couple weeks ago -"

"That's convenient? Weirdly so?"

"I found suiting that wasn't moth eaten and decided to have fun, at least-" You finally escape from the noodly arms of Leech the Wild One. "Let me suit up and show you? I can be so sexy, you guys. Come on."

In answer to the confused silence, you took your keys out of your pocket and chucked them at Deuce's confused face. "Adeuce! Grim! It's on the vanity in my room!"

"But ghosts?"

"Say you're clearing out things so that we won't bother... No, actually just go the balcony way."

"You can't unlock the balcony from the outside without a lockpick, it only locks from the inside."

A moment of silence. "Lilia, what the fuck?"

He shrugged. "I moved everything two inches to the left once to see if you noticed."

"I wasn't imagining things?!?"

This'll take a moment to sort out, and the clock is ticking...

~*~*~*~ You truly liked the woods! Green and quiet. Full of things that crawled and scurried, little friends that squeaked and croaked and hissed. The occasional precious treasure of a small bone or edible mushroom. So, you were quite surprised when you found Idia, miserable, crouched beside a fallen log.

"... Skipping gym?" Going by the uniform, the most likely answer. "Or did you finally realize that outside doesn't always bite?"

He scowled at you, and you stifled a giggle when you realized that yes, he was actually covered in bug bites. "They should replace this with a mall."

"You hate malls. Too many people." You reached out a hand, and pulled him to his feet. Idly, you wondered if he'd let you try and fit your hands around his waist, but thought better of asking.

"Game stores are alright. No one bothers you in one, or in arcades. And." He stopped, as he brushed the dirt from his legs, before continuing in a mumble you only got the gist of.

"Me and Ortho will be your big, scary guard dogs?"

"... Who'll notice me with both of you?"

"Everyone." Because he's the most beautiful person in the room, and they'd be mad not to look. "Because you show up so rarely. It makes it all the more noticeable when you are out, so everyone pays attention." You held out a hand. "I'll take you out the back way so you don't get in trouble."

No dice. He held his hands in close. "I'll just follow."

"Alright. Why'd you go out this far in the woods with no map, anyways?"

"There's no cell service..."

"Clearly, we need to turn your blood into a wi-fi signal, instead of liquid sugar."

He huffed, but he did follow you, and was actually approaching a good mood once you escorted him through the Ramshackle gates.

~*~*~*~ "Hey, what did I miss?" It took entirely too long to get a single lock of hair to to a perfect insouciant flip over your forehead, even with the eternally stylish Sam's help.

"She's slapped everyone who went to propose, and when she does you're paralyzed for 500 years."

"Christ," You say as you adjust a pin on your lapel. "We have to get Idia back, he'll get what? A week before he gets the hand."

"She's so fussy!" yelled Grim. "You have to sing and have a dog and she hates poison flowers."

"Clearly, she has no taste." Honestly,you thought her taste was just fine, what with thinking Idia was the finest of the bunch. He was very princely, if your tastes ran to exquisite corpses with the personality of a neurotic goblin. "Who wouldn't want poison blossoms?" Tie? No tie? Tie? No tie? No tie. And unbutton. Leona wishes he had this chest.

"We know she has no taste because she chose Idia."

You chose to ignore that, and clapped. "Okay, Round Two!"

~*~*~*~ The truest tragedy of this school was that it was all boys. Not that boys were bad by any means, you certainly enjoyed them, but... girls. Tall girls! Short girls! Busty girls! Petite girls! Butch girls! Femme girls! Fat girls! Girls!

So many kinds of girls, and you, in all of your plump and handsome glory, were the only girl in an entire high school. Welcome to hell.

You accepted no gifts that came unvetted. You had friends ward the everloving bajeezus out of your dorm room. Grim was more than happy to test your food and drink for tampering, but it was exhausting. You at least knew that any food you ate at the Mostro Lounge was clear, but that was only because everyone was too damn scared of the eternally hovering Floyd to try anything while there.

 So, you eat a lot of vending machine snacks.

You've been standing there for fifteen minutes, trying to figure out the best combo with your limited funds, when someone coughed behind you.

"??? Oh, hey Idia." You stepped aside while he shuffled up to the glass and peered in. "Anything to recommend? I got this." You waved your bill in the air.

He only looked at you a moment before looking back at the machine. "That won't get you much."

"Ah, don't I know it. But it's all I got."

He still wasn't looking directly at you, but a smile started to creep across his face. "Get your bag."

"Wha-" He was already tapping out a beat with the keypad, blue sparks flying from his fingertips, the machine starting to groan and shiver. With a final note, the snack machine gave a final heaving shudder - and every single snack fell to the bottom of the machine.

He was so proud as he smiled at you, reaching down and pulling a single bag of gummies from the spilled mess. "You first."

And, as you stuffed your schoolbag and pockets full of thieved goods, praising his genius, his cleverness, his skills, he just glowed.

~*~*~*~ "I guess you were ahead of the game, Yuu. She hates that no one's dressed up properly. And..."

"And? You raised an eyebrow at Ace.

"You do look stylish. But you need backup."

"Of course. You'll all rescue people while I distract her!”

"But what if she slaps you?"

"You'll step in if that happens. But we have to dress you all up."

"Did you makes spares?"

"No." Tragic, everyone would look so cute in summerweight green wool. "Let's ask Sam, he's got everything."

~*~*~*~ "Okay, Ortho, you see?" You held his back to your chest, and raised your hand in front of his face, palm away from him. As you wiggled your fingers, you could see movement on the back of your hand. "Those are tendons. Those, and the muscles, are what move the bones, make your hands move. If you put your fingers here," you say as you place his fingertips over the moving lines, "you should be able to feel it."

"I do! They go up and down. What's the popping?"

"That's my faulty joints, we'll cover those another day. Now," you flipped your hand over, and moved his fingers to your wrist. "You feel that?"

"That is your pulse! It's not as string as it should be."

"I'm not always in the best of health. So, Ortho. My hand moves by muscles and tendons when I think of it. My blood moves through my body, one beat at a time, and you can feel it. Right?"

"Right."

"You," you say, as you take Ortho's other hand. "Your hand moves by motors and servos, when you think about it. Electricity and magic moves through your body, in beats so fast we can't perceive it, and it's as measurable as my pulse."

"... Because I am a robot."

"Because you are a bit different. But we're both alive, we're both real, just in different ways." You turn to look at Ortho directly, and he looks back at you with yellow eyes that are actual, real lamps. "Don't let anyone ever say you're not real, or alive, or good enough, just because you're different."

And though you can't see it, you can feel Idia smiling from the corner of his room.

~*~*~*~ Alright. No more time for memories, only the here and now. You've got a heart full of love, a pocket full of ring, and a head full of stupid. You're as prepared as anyone else who went in. Start on your left foot, and...

"Hello? Excuse me?" You make a cursory knock at the doorframe before stepping in. "I heard there was a wedding."

The bride - Eliza - whirled on you, and stopped. She was even more of a vision in person, airy translucence and fine, sweet features currently arranged in confusion. "Ah- Yes! I'm getting married to my darling Prince Idia! Right away, so-"

Not if I have my way about it, you thought to yourself as you arranged yourself in a perfect bow, one hand behind your back. You pretended not to notice Idia trussed up with rope, but you filed the sight away for later. "How wonderful. I wish you only happiness. But it must wait."

Before she could get her hand ready, you straightened and fixed her with your best smile. "My dearest princess, I cannot let this happen until I dance with the most beautiful person in this room. It would be improper to do so with a newlywed, and I cannot know peace until I dance. Would you be so kind, my fair princess?"

She was still baffled. "Aren't you a girl?"

You keyed up the brightness. "I am, and I dance very well. Would you indulge me, my dear?"

You could see her considering it. "You... are rather princely. Can you lead?"

"Of course. May I?" Again with the bow, and to your delight, she returned with a flawless curtsy. Hand in hand, you began.

~*~*~*~ It was delightful, to dance with this silly ghost girl. Everywhere your bodies touched, from her hand in yours to what would have been a fine chest, but was instead a clean and elegant ribcage festooned with pearls, heat seeped away and left only a chill as cold as clay. Her footwork was flawless, considering she no longer had feet, and she was so easy to chat with. She asked you about your dog (none currently, but you'd love to have one, and there was Grim in the meantime), your singing, (little voice to speak of, but that was what vocal coaches were for), and why you wanted to dance with her (because when would the chance ever come again? Unless fairest Eliza considered her for forever and a day.)

"But what of dear Idia?" She'd almost looked towards where Idia no longer was, having been unknotted long ago, but you drew her back in before she could notice the chaos around her.

" 'Dear Idia', though as beautiful as the moon in the sky, has cold feet, my love. He's afraid of dying. But I? I'd cherish you for all of eternity." You leaned in closer. "I am not afraid of dying, beloved. To journey with you through realms beyond mortal reach. I can think of nothing more exciting than to cross the barrier to the other side, hand in hand with you. In the words of a fine sir from my home, 'to die by your side/the pleasure, the privilege is mine'. Please, please consider me, please..."

Here's how it should have gone: She said yes, and you put the ring on her finger, and all was well. But you'd awakened such a sweet hunger in her, she could not wait for propriety. Instead, she grasped your face and kissed you with the passion of five hundred years search, found.

~*~*~*~ It was so pleasant at first, that you couldn't help but return it. When had anyone ever kissed you with such passion? But quickly, the chill began to overtake you. It could have been bearable, but after that was pain. You started to shake, uncontrollably, as every nerve in your body was scraped away with a rusty blade, and as you weakly tried to push away, as blood began to flow from your eyes, your mouth, every pore and orifice, she still would not let go. All you could think was it hurts it hurts it hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts and, as you slipped to a grey place beyond where pain could touch you, you barely noticed the cacophony around you, or something hurtling towards the two of you from the corner of your eye.

Something blue.

~*~*~*~ When you finally woke up, through a drugged and painful haze, you couldn't tell where you were. When you jolted up, the pain of it sending you into a nauseated fit of blood-flecked coughing, a familiar yelp sounded, and you turned to see Idia, little the worse for wear.

"You're up, uh..." He fumbled something onto the table, behind his back. "I."

You just looked. At him, at the surroundings. A hospital bed, with gifts and flowers (most filched from the wedding venue, but someone had stuck Jade's poison blossom into a vase and set it in the far corner). Idia was the only one present, seeing as it was the middle of the night.

"Ortho's getting things you might need. I... I hate hospital scenes..."

"Hurt's over.” You tried to settle yourself more comfortably, failing miserably. “Here comes the comfort." You reached out a hand, as he looked anywhere in the room but you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." More silence.

"Shroud." He hesitantly placed his hand in yours, tinting pink as you pulled the sleeve up. The sight of it made you gasp. His fine wrist, so small even you could put your fingers around it, was mottled with deep bruising, blacks and purples set so deep into the skin that there was crusted blood on the surface, despite being unbroken. It was so, deeply, incredibly...

Beautiful. It was all you could do, not to press your lips to his wrist and taste his pulse as it flitted under his skin. To clean the blood away with your own tongue and cover the marks that your hungry ghost princess had made with your own teeth. Not hers. Yours.

Really, no wonder you'd been so enchanted with Eliza. You're cut of the same cloth.

"It must hurt."

He jerked his hand away, making you both wince. "What the hell is wrong with you? They only reason you're not dead is everyone pouring so much healing magic into you that it exhausted almost everyone. I." You could see flickers and flashes of orange sparking along the full length of his hair. "I'm not worth dying for. Why?"

What do you tell him? That it was the right thing to do? That you wanted to prove that you could woo a pretty girl? That you didn't want him dead? That you were a possessive bitch that couldn't stand the idea of someone else having him, even if unwilling on his part? All were true, but what do you say?

It proved a moot point, as when you opened your mouth to say something, anything, something shifted within you, and the only thing Idia received was a gout of blood square in his face.

~*~*~*~ After you'd slept, you reached for your phone in the thin morning light. Your friends where texting well wishes and condolences, and explanations of what happened after you went down (It seemed Idia had tackled Eliza clean off of you, and after some chaos she ran off with her retainer, rending this entire day moot). Even more interestingly, you found a text from an unknown number:

- I'm still mad at you.

You huffed to yourself, and after a bit of thought, start to text back.

- Dude I'm so sorry about the uh. blood puke. - I'll pay for cleaning - Also you know, you could have just asked for my number a long time ago? - Like a normal person? - Who doesn't break into phones to steal said numbers while I was unconscious next to you, what the fuck dude - That's not what this is about though. - You've got every right to be mad - That whole day was traumatizing, and you didn't deserve any of it - I'd rather sort this out in person but if text is easier for you right now we can do that - One last thing though

You stopped, and thought Do I actually do this? and went what the hell.

- I still need that dance I went in to get from you

[jaskiersvalley]

I'm loving all of your fics

Hearing that makes me super happy, Nonnie! Thank you! Have a little ficlet as thanks for being so sweet!

Word had come in advance that Geralt was returning for the winter. Not only that, he was bringing someone with him. It wasn’t just anyone, it was his bard. The bard. The one who had sung songs about witchers to turned the tide in their favour. The one who followed Geralt on his path without fear or prejudice. For the first time in decades, there was an air of excitement in Kaer Morhen. It was prepared with as much care as three witchers could muster up. They wanted Jaskier to feel welcome, wanted the bard to like them.

By the time the two were spotted on the last stretch to the keep, Lambert was almost vibrating with excitement. A human who liked a witcher, Geralt at that! It could mean someone who might extend that friendliness to other witchers too. Next to him, Eskel was only a little more sedate in his anticipation, more shy and self conscious than Lambert. Even Vesemir looked like he’d brushed his hair and made a bit of an effort.

One final sweep of the living areas of the keep and they were satisfied. The pantry was better stocked than it had been in decades, a couple of treats on the shelves for their visitor. Cobwebs had been blasted from the corners and fires set to keep the rooms warm. There was the telltale clang of the door and the sound of voices.

“You really grew up in such a dusty old keep? It’s so drafty, not even spiders want to live in the corners.” An unfamiliar voice drifted through the halls and Eskel slowed a little, uncertain all of a sudden. It wasn’t the warm excitement he had imagined, of a bard with a love of everything, finding beauty and poetry in his surroundings. Lambert looked to him similarly discouraged for a moment.

Meeting Jaskier was underwhelming. His eyes lingered on their scars, even if he didn’t say anything, there was still a silent judgement in his gaze. Self conscious, Eskel turned a little and Lambert began hassling Geralt to hide his disappointment.

Dinner wasn’t much better. They’d tried to outdo themselves for a first shared meal, Vesemir had even brought out a jar of preserved cherries, one of their most treasured and rarest of treats.

“I was at the court of Countess de Stael last winter, she had managed to import the most exquisite of fruits.” Jaskier sighed and looked at the cherries in  small bowl in front of him.

“Maybe you should have spent winter with her again then,” Lambert spat. It had only been half a day with Jaskier but all his hopes had already been dashed. Someone kicked him under the table and he looked down, a little sheepish. “Did I tell you about the selkimore I encountered back in the summer?”

That had Jaskier perking up. “Geralt took a contract for one a few months back. Only, there were two! I wrote a great ballad about it.” And he was off, recounting the most embellished tale of Geralt’s heroics. All the witchers around the table knew it was utter bullshit, half the things Jaskier was spouting, even Geralt looked a little uncomfortable. As soon as the story ended, Eskel excused himself from the table, telling himself Jaskier was just tired from travelling.

Not that the next day was much different. If anything, it was worse. Trying to impress Jaskier and show that Geralt wasn’t the only competent witcher, Eskel decided to train with Geralt. It was going so well too, he’d managed to land a blow to the back of Geralt’s knee and twist the blade from his grip. Eskel’s blade tipped Geralt’s chin up and he looked to Jaskier for approval. He didn’t expect the glare, or Jaskier stomping over to fuss over Geralt. For a few seconds Eskel stood to the side before beating a hasty retreat, knowing he hadn’t impressed Jaskier at all. In fact, he’d managed to become the least favourite witcher in one fell swoop.

That wasn’t to say that Lambert was faring a lot better. After training, he had walked wanted to go get a snack. From the distance he could hear Jaskier’s bright laugh and Geralt’s soft rumbles. Yet it all came to a stop as soon as he stepped through the door. Frustrated, Lambert grabbed the nearest edible thing and stomped out the room. He made a beeline for Vesemir’s room like a wounded pup and knocked impatiently before barging in. It wasn’t even a surprise to find Eskel there too, looking suitably miserable.

From an outside perspective, there was probably something funny about the fact that at over 100, Lambert was the youngest one there and yet he and Eskel were still like sad little children when the new kid didn’t want to play with them.

“Why doesn’t he like us?” Lambert asked, feeling far too lost all of a sudden. “I thought he’d be different. He seems to like Geralt, why not us?”

There was no answer that Vesemir could give. He was just as clueless and disappointed as the other two, the only difference was that he could hide it a bit better.

The biggest issue was that it was obviously having an impact on Geralt. He seemed to realise something was wrong, even started trying to shield Jaskier from the others. He was irritable during training, spent less time with the others in favour of keeping Jaskier company. The one time Eskel made a jibe about getting some fresh air, Geralt had snapped in a way that was usually reserved for Lambert. Usually, Geralt was much more even with Eskel, not because Eskel couldn’t take it but because there was a mutual respect between them.

In short, things were tense and getting worse. Dinners weren’t filled with laughter and song like they’d imagined. In fact, they barely heard Jaskier sing and if they crossed paths in the keep, there wasn’t even a fabled sunny smile sent their way. Because they’d all heard about the bard that travelled with a witcher. More often than not, people were disappointed to find that the witcher coming to answer their call for help wasn’t the famous White Wolf.

“Is he disappointed in us?” Eskel asked, staring morosely into his mug one evening. He and Lambert were huddled away in a dark corner of the cellar, absolutely hiding from the world at large. “Are we more hideous than even he can tolerate?”

“Fuck him,” Lambert spat. “You’re gorgeous just the way you are.”

“I just hoped-” Eskel cut himself off with a wave that encompassed everything he felt. It was something Lambert understood all too well. He pressed his shoulder against Eskel’s in support.

“I know. I hoped too.” Sighing, Lambert emptied his tankard.

There was the sound of the cellar door being pushed open and footsteps approaching. The two of them stayed silent, waiting for the trespasser to leave. It definitely wasn’t Jaskier as there wasn’t any fumbling or the light of a lantern to illuminate the way. Which meant either Vesemir or Geralt.

“Why are you hiding down here?” That was Geralt, perching himself on a crate of potatoes next to them. Before he could be told to fuck off, Geralt headed that delight off with a “Vesemir told me to come here.”

Meddling old man, Lambert was not best impressed with being ratted out like that. Especially not when Geralt said “I thought you two had been sneaking off to fuck.”

At least that got the two spluttering. Truthfully, neither of them had been in the mood since Jaskier had shown up with Geralt. In the end, Eskel was the one to try and delicately raise the issue.

“We know Jaskier is your companion, bard, whatever you call him.”

“My fiance.” Stunned silence settled in the cellar. “And I don’t know why you hate him so much. After this winter, I don’t think we’ll be returning to Kaer Morhen though.”

“We don’t hate him.” Eskel replied, only to be drowned out by Lambert’s indignant “He hates us!”

The problem with three emotionally compromised idiots trying to talk about feelings was that it was never going to end well. Even in the dark, they stared at each other, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“But you hate him.” Geralt scratched the back of his neck. “You didn’t smile at him when he arrived, Lambert you told him he should have spent winter elsewhere that first night. Eskel, you glared at him and waved your sword menacingly after besting me in training. Vesemir told him to shut up when he was composing a new song. You don’t want him here and we’ll leave as soon as it’s safe.”

“That’s not what happened!” Lambert was adamant. “He thinks we spend winter in a crumbling piece of shit not even spiders want. Then food wasn’t good enough for him.”

“He hated me for winning that bout,” Eskel cut in.

“And when I interrupted him and you, he stopped singing and laughing.”

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told him the place was unusually clean and tidy. And that he had been offered the best food we could provide. He was trying to find a moment to apologise and make amends. The singing only stopped because he was trying to write a drinking song about my dick.”

The three of them stared at each other, trying to make sense of how they could have all gotten the wrong end of the stick.

“He looked disgusted by my scars,” Eskel mumbled, finally airing his biggest hurt.

“You should have heard him in the evening when we retired for the night,” Geralt snorted. “Trust me, he was captivated by your-” he obviously steeled himself for saying it “-natural, rugged beauty enhanced by the bravery you wear on your skin.”

There was a small titter and Eskel smacked Lambert in the shoulder.

“Could we try again?” Geralt asked quietly. “I don’t want to lose my family.”

That sobered things up quickly and they all took a moment to look each other over before Eskel nodded. He stood up and offered Lambert a hand. The quiet “thank you” from Geralt was so out of character, Lambert had half a mind to press a silver dagger to his neck.

They made their was back to the small hall where Jaskier was sitting, poring over a book with Vesemir. He looked up, eyes darting from Geralt to the other witchers, guarded and worried.

“Jaskier,” Geralt approached. “These idiots are my fellow wolves, Lambert and Eskel.”

Instantly there was a marked change, Jaskier was getting up from the bench and bounding over with a wide smile. “It’s a delight to properly meet you both.”

There was a moment of awkwardness where he stood opposite them, bouncing on his toes. Eskel made the executive decision to pull him in for a hug which was instantly returned.

After a rocky start, Lambert and Eskel were delighted to discover that actually, Jaskier was nothing like they had imagined. He was so much better.

[laurasinele]

And today, in The Most Obvious Choice For A Fic Title Ever.... This Fic I Wrote For My Hubby After Rewatching Venom The Other Night :D

In which Venom takes action after months waiting for Eddie to do something about That Kiss (TM).

He had a day off and he knew exactly what to do with it. In preparation, he'd been talking Venom into letting him skip their nightly hunt for edible bad guys, he'd cleaned the apartment thoroughly, he'd had just one beer for a change, and he'd turned in early. The next morning he found himself, awake, fresh and rested at the break of the day and, man, wasn't it something. He could get used to it.

Venom was nothing more than a quiet, kind of comforting presence in the back of his mind today, and Eddie was deeply grateful for that.

He took a shower. There was nothing but calm and relaxation. He shaved his beard clean, well aware that he would have a nice five o'clock shadow in a few hours, but enjoying the motions of it that he usually found a pain in the neck. Everything was fine. He brewed some coffee, had a couple of PB and honey toasts and, yes, life was good.

He went out to grab some healthy groceries, and he marvelled at the familiarity and simultaneous wonder of such a simple chore. On his own, like a functioning adult, no pressing work matters, no conspiracies to unveil, no sudden alien voices making him jump. Just a deep, contempt rumble in the back of his mind, right where he last felt it. He whistled mindless tunes while he walked the isles.

Back at home, groceries put away, apartment smelling fresh and clean, he dropped on the couch with the satisfied grunt of someone used to an old, wonky piece of furniture, and not yet accustomed to land on brand new, plush cushions. He grabbed the controller, switched on the TV and proceeded to his self allotted three hours of DC: Ultimate Alliance gaming binge.

Everything was fine. More than.

Eddie!

Forty-five minutes into the game he almost dropped Batman off a cliff during a scene that wasn't even a fight.

"Jesus, what do you want?", he mumbled as he regained his composure and his control over his video-game character.

We need fooooood!

"We've already had food, just wait a little, mate".

Venom's face materialised from Eddie's shoulder, half-covering the TV screen. Eddie kept his eyes on the price. Batman was kicking the shit out of Solomon Grundy now.

That was hardly enough sustenance for an hour, Eddie. We. Need. FOOD!

Eddie was impassive, knocking buttons as if he had a personal grudge against the controller. Venom chuckled. That was no good. That was never good and Eddie should have known better than keeping ignoring them.

Eddieee… They sing-songed, eerie floating head dancing in mid-air. We need food… mate. They quoted him, right before another, longer, self-satisfied chuckle that Eddie missed the chance to heed. Speaking of mates… YOU SEEM TO NEED ONE!

Many things happened at once. Accompanying his last words, Venom wrapped some of his tendrils over Eddie's groin and gave him a gentle but unrelenting squeeze. Eddie jumped on his seat and dropped the controller, suddenly aware of his very serious case of blue balls that he had been meaning to address, he really had, but, you know, when do you find the right time to have the birds and bees talk with your Symbiote? Next, Batman suffered a disgraceful defeat at the hands of good ol' Solomon. And while all this was taking place, Venom was cackling maniacally at Eddie's stupefied face.

Give us food, Eddie. And we'll give you releeease. If you want. They added that last bit  like a second thought, as if they had read something about consent only very recently and found that it made sense, but still weren't used to ask for permission to take anything they wanted.

"Wa-wa-wa-wait a second", babbled Eddie, scrambling up the couch and out of Venom's vice on him, sitting on the backrest in a fruitless attempt to put some distance between them. Venom seemed to find his efforts endearing, because he chuckled mischievously, crept closer and licked Eddie's earlobe. To his utter shock, Eddie didn't dislike it, but he was a man of principles, and there was so much to be addressed in this situation before even considering that it was actually happening.

"Wo, wo, wo, okay man, pull the brakes, will ya? I'm not that easy".

Venom blinked, which he rarely did, and said matter-of-factly:

You are.

Eddie babbled again, 60% incredulous, 35% freaked-out and a growing 5% aroused?! C'mon, Brock, get it together!

"Okay, first of all, where do you get that idea from? Uh? Because, I haven't had sex since I met you. In case you haven't noticed, I haven't even wanked in months. And whose fault is that, by the way?!", he all but screech as he climbed off the back of couch to avoid Venom's slithering advances and headed to the fridge. He was incredibly thirsty all of a sudden.

Venom retreated into Eddie's body very slowly and cautiously, giving him goosebumps. They used to favour an 'erupt and splash' kind of movement, and all this softness was very disconcerting.

"And secondly", kept on Eddie after chugging down half a carton of apple juice, "the hell do you know about human sex?! Or sex at all, for that matter".

As soon as he uttered the question and felt the tell-tale prickle on his chest that meant Venom was excited , he regretted having even woken up.

We know your sex, Eddie. We don't need to know more.

Eddie shuddered and looked at the ceiling, as if waiting for an answer. To what question exactly, he wasn't sure. Arousal was at 15% already and he was running out of reasons to consider this conversation a very bad idea.

"Okay. Okay, buddy, pal, amigo. Assuming I was into it…"

You are, Venom snickered.

"Assuming I was into it", he repeated louder over Venom's rumbling laughter, "what would you get from it? And don't say 'food'", he flinched at the thought.

Eddieee, we've told you before , crooned the alien, and they sounded patronising? There is no me, there is no you, there is only usss , they said as Eddie felt their breathing on his cheek and shut his eyes tightly, bracing himself for whatever happened next.

Not for the first time since that particular exchange began, Eddie was surprised at the tenderness of it all. Venom lifted Eddie's arms, surrounding his hands with gooey tentacles that were entwining themselves with his fingers clumsily —and what was that about? Venom was anything but clumsy. Instead of just taking control of Eddie's body from within, they wrapped some more tentacles around his legs and gently pushed him to make him walk towards the coach. First of Eddie's thoughts was Venom was mocking him by making him walk like some tacky Frankenstein monster, but then Venom materialised their head in front of him, lower than they used to and kind of ducking, all the while sporting a sly smile. So Venom was coaxing him into the coach. While trying to look cute! Eddie stifled a laugh.

"Hey, V. What are you doing?"

Let's talk about this, Eddie. Let's talk about us , they answered as they unceremoniously dropped Eddie on the couch and joined their foreheads.

You are mine, Eddie, as I am yours. I keep you alive, so do you for me. We fight the bad guysss. You let me feed, I protect you. There is nothing we can't do. There is nothing we can't be. Tell me, Eddie, what is it that you want? We shall give it to you.

Eddie shuddered.

"I didn't know this was on the table"

You did. You were just too scared.

Venom grew a torso, two not-completely-human-like arms and two thick, muscular legs. They promptly wrapped themselves around Eddie's tense form.

Tell me what do you want, Eddie. You shall receive it.

Eddie scoffed, momentarily overtaken by his caustic reporter self.

"If you know I'm horny, and you claim to know that apparently I knew this was on the table, then you must know what I want already".

Venom grunted in frustration and backed up a little.

You change your mind too quickly! You never let yourself think about it long enough for us to chase it. It's hard to know exactly what you want, Eddie. Just. Tell. Me , they said punctuating each word with a thrust of their whole sinuous body. Or just. Letyourselfthinkaboutthekiss.

Eddie sputtered.

"The kiss?! Was it… was it actually you?! Annie wasn't bluffing?"

Venom shook their head and inched even closer.

You were hoping it was us, said Venom with a glint in their eyes.

Eddie stuttered an excuse but Venom seemed to have gotten all the information they needed from that instant he spent lingering in the memory. They caught Eddie's lower lip between their massive teeth with a gentleness that made Eddie shiver, and promptly licked into his mouth, temptative and sweet, catching Eddie off-hand. Before he could think about it, his hands slid up Venom's sides, appreciating the effort they had put in this particular corporeal form. He dug his fingers in their flesh and returned the kiss with hunger, his own enthusiasm taking himself by surprise but not Venom, who chuckled with satisfaction inside Eddie's head, their taloned hands cradling Eddie's nape. He moaned, delighted, and then immediately second-guessed all of it.

Wait , he thought, because Venom had taken hold of his mouth and he couldn’t use it. Then he leaned back and said it outloud.

"Wait".

What is it, Eddie?

They sounded impatient, like those times when Eddie would talk them out of eating some random dude in the middle of the street, but there was something in the way they made sound Eddie's name. Actually, he could not remember a time it hadn't been there. Whether they were impatient or demanding, or angry, or reluctantly compliant, there was always a hint of that in the way they said 'Eddie'. He was thinking now that it was something weirdly close to awe.

"Y-y-you, I mean. What is this? Is this how you guys reproduce or something?"

Stupid Eddie. We are not a sexual species. This is for your pleasure.

"Then what do you want? What do you take from this?"

As far as pointed looks can go in a browless, lipless, eyelidless face, Venom did a remarkable job.

"Oh", said Eddie.

Yes. Oh, retorted Venom.

"You want me?", asked Eddie in a mix of smugness and shock.

Venom nodded coyly?! They're playing coy?! Then they nestled their head against the side of Eddie's neck and nipped at it once, playfully.

Eddie jumped a little, but tightened his embrace around Venom's back. Sitting on his couch, straddled by the alien lifeform that lived inside of him, considering his life-choices, Eddie Brock realised he hadn't been holding back because he didn't want to have sex with Venom. He had been holding back because he could not fathom the possibility of Venom wanting to have sex with him. From his lap, Venom practically purred.

So you finally got there, genius.

"Why wouldn't you just say?!"

Why wouldn't you just say?

Eddie stood up and started to peel his clothes off as Venom crept back under his skin. And weren't they always under his skin? He felt the familiar sensation of Venom taking over his motor function, making them leap into the bedroom and onto the bed. Lying face up, Venom materialised on top of him and licked slowly along his neck, from his chest, through his Adam apple, to his chin, where they bit down with purpose. Eddie thought briefly about their previous demand of food, but it seemed pretty obvious Venom had forgotten about it. 

Are you a good guy or a bad guy, Eddie?

A shiver shot through his body.

"I am a very good boy, you know? I just have this voice in my head that always wants to do very bad stuff".

Eddie could feel the low rumble he got from Venom all over his body. Venom's tendrils held his wrists together over his head and pulled his legs apart. Their mouth appeared over Eddie's stomach like the Cheshire Cat's, and the last thing Eddie wanted to do right now was to think about children's literature. Venom was quick to distract him from that topic, their obscenely long tongue coiling out of their mouth and down Eddie's navel.

Reports are contradictory. I'll have to taste and see for myself.

[kayistiredt]

Here’s something I wrote about my roommates

"Hey, can everyone NOT leave a bunch of fucking dishes and food out in the open? So we won't get ran out of our own house by a bunch of fucking gnats? Is that possible for everybody? Can we all agree we don't like gnats?" I'm standing in the middle of the living room. Shouting all of this. It's a bright day. Maybe people look down on those of us who wake up a few hours past noon, but at least we wake up just in time to enjoy the day and the sunset. That's not bad. I know everyone who lives in this house is home. I continue to shout, "I think we all don't like gnats all over everything so from now on, lets do better."

 There's more authority in my voice than anger. I'm commanding. This isn't really up for debate. I'm not even sure what the debate could be. For gnats? For not cleaning? I can understand within your own personal room, hell there's garbage bags in my room that have collected colonies of gnats of their own. But Jesus, how can you stand it? They're just buzzing around, on any and everything. You can't look anywhere without seeing not just one, but two or three. How could you possibly look at the sad pile of a rag on the counter, holding God knows how many and just ignore it? I can't. I'm sick of ignoring. Of not speaking out for things that make my skin crawl. I'm coming into the realization that I just may be more powerful than swallowing my disgust. I walk around the corner to Genesis' room and bang on the door. Her six-foot-something dreadhead boyfriend could answer the door and I anticipate that, squaring my shoulders and clenching my jaw. I need to see the child in him. I need to see through him to the child in him and scare that child. That's how you intimidate a six-foot-something boyfriend. Easier said than done, but I'm powerful enough. I realize that now.

He swings open the door and I meet his eyes immediately. "I'm going to clean the kitchen. I need these bags on the porch out of here. Call up who you gotta call up, do what you gotta do. I need that shit gone. Asap." He's stunned, I think. I don't give him time to respond and turn around in the tight hallway to round the corner into the kitchen. I suppose I'm taking a pretty big risk. This man has a shotgun or rifle or something in the room, I've seen that. There's also a machete that I'm not sure is real or fake. I know they get up to some fraud activities but I don't know how much violence they get up to. My hands should be shaking but they're steady. I'm grounded. My guides love to see me in my power so why wouldn't they assist me as I stand up for my space? It's actually our space. You would think I would be appreciated for putting my foot down and insist that we all take care of it. In any case, it doesn't matter if they appreciate this move or not. I’m in control. I've had enough of feeling uncomfortable in a space I used to claim as my own. 

Sure, I'm leaving soon. I've resolved myself to that fact. I'm leaving. I'm getting out of here and although I cherish and value this space for all that it's given me, it's time to let it go. So that said, should I really make such a big fuss over all of this? 

"You fucking tripping," he says. High pitched in disbelief. I take a deep breath and call on the most powerful, intimidating spirit that wants to see me do well in life. I feel the power surge from the ground up. My footsteps sound like thunder as I step back around the corner. I feel taller than the man in front of me as I say: "I want the patio cleared. I want the trash gone." His eyes widen and he doesn't seem to be looking at me but something taller than me, which feels incredible. "If y'all had just taken the trash out instead of piling it up out there in the first place, I wouldn't have to do all this." I take a few steps back and turn around the corner to open the glass doors to the back patio. "Let's go!" I say, in a voice that doesn't sound like mine. A sound that booms out of my chest and seems to make the floor vibrate. He walks quickly around the corner, stepping outside in his socks to start putting garbage bags in the cardboard box that managed to make its way out there.

I know where it came from and decide that since I haven't felt the power drain out of me yet, I'd tick something else off my to-do list. I trust in whatever entity is currently with me to pull the reigns if I get carried away. I bang on Cynthia's door twice. She opens swiftly. Most likely standing nearby and fiddling nervously as she listened in, knowing that she dropped off a giant cardboard box and a few garbage bags of her own at the make-shift landfill just yesterday. According to her, her ankles are weak due to a disability, so maybe she just couldn’t find it in herself to do more than walk the four or five steps from her room to the back patio door. However, since I’ve seen her walk to the front door, which is a considerably longer distance, I’ll call bullshit on this behavior. Darion, the boyfriend, knows all of this too, but he's too scared and confused to argue and continues to work with his head down.

It feels like my energy is spreading through the room. In my mind I can see the tendrils of powerful energy spreading across the walls and floors. Maybe it'll even reach the second floor and my neighbors will stop throwing themselves around like test dummies. 

Cynthia opens the door and the sight of her brings a reaction so visceral out of me I have to keep myself from lunging at her. She's trembling. Good. I want to scare her. I want to repel her. I want her energy as far away from me as possible. Whoever this spirit is agrees. The way she attempts to befriend me after having threatened to get me arrested and sued is irritating to me. No apology. Just trying to skip right to the part where we’re good roommate-buddies. I resent her for even thinking that’s a possibility. 

She brings out the shadowiest tendencies from me. I've had dreams that I've screamed at her. Threatened her. I was hostile. I kicked her. I'm practically a bully. Yet, I can't help but feel it's warranted. Not just because of what she did to me, but the way she was so sure in what she was doing. I don’t trust her whatsoever. But, I do hold a certain empathy for her. I don't know what the rest of her life holds but it feels bleak. It feels full of disadvantage. Strife. You could understand why I'd want to keep that away from me. The fact that she tries so hard to impose or connect herself to me just feels like confirmation. My energy is probably very tempting for her. Maybe she brings out the dark sides of me ego as well.

"Stop putting your trash on the patio. Put it outside the front door." My voice is level but strong. Again, leaving no room for argument.

"Okay. I will do that," She says. The way she speaks sounds stunted. If you heard her speak, you would think she definitely had some kind of developmental disability. She has that kind of speech impediment that makes her R's sound like W's. Together, she sounds like someone that most people would assume couldn't match them intellectually. But I give her more credit than that. I'm sure there's certain things she can't control. She's middle-aged. There's things she's grown into that'll be hard to break. But I know that she has more critical thinking skills than people think. 

I nod my acceptance of her answer. She nods in return and takes a meek step back to close her door but I step forward and push it back open. "I want you to hear this." I step back. "If y'all see the trash can empty and there's no trash bags in sight, just use one of the trillion plastic bags in the laundry room." I could say more about how there's no reason to put trash in an empty can with no liner. That it just makes life difficult in the long run. About how idiotic it is to throw trash in an empty can when there's plenty of bags that will hold trash. But this energy doesn't need to be elaborated on. I don't need to hear an answer of compliance. I know they'll listen. They watch as I walk around the room, spreading my energy around to every corner. Claiming the space. Reclaiming it, rather. I walk back to the kitchen entrance. Genesis is standing in her doorway. Eyes wide. I feel bad for her in a way. I'm not sure what her own personal aspirations are but I'm sure this can't be it. I relate.  "I need to borrow the car to make a copy of the mail key." I push my energy onto her and stare through her to the little girl cowering in fear. The energy softens. "I need to have a mail key to turn in when I move out." For some reason, the mail box locks got changed. My key hasn’t worked for months. I don’t expect mail often anyway. She nods and turns back to get the keys. I make a mental list of other errands I need to run while I have a set of wheels. 

While I wait for her, I turn to the kitchen and get to work, spraying every non-edible surface down with bug-spray first and foremost to kill all the gnats that have settled on the various surfaces. It was all getting cleaned anyway. She comes back and puts the keys on the counter then pauses. I notice and straighten up. The spirit I called hasn't left yet. I wonder to myself if maybe this was a permanent fusion but get reassured otherwise by a thought that doesn't seem to come from me. "Listen, we're sorry we let it get out of hand," She says, smile easy-going. A tone I had heard before. I wasn't in the mood to put on the act of tolerance. 

"You should be. Y'all spend the most time out here. But I wasn't exactly sparkling clean when you moved in so there's only so much to say." I must have surprised her face into a non-reaction, like she was browsing for the appropriate reaction and parked her face in Neutral. "And just so we're all on the same page," I said as Darrion passed by the both of us, I'm assuming on his way to put on shoes, "I realize y'all still haven't paid me back for my Playstation. I'm telling you right now, if you move out of this apartment without paying me what you owe, you'll never make anything of yourselves for the rest of this lifetime. And you'll have to work damn hard to do something with yourselves in the next life." 

I felt the universe confirm what I said. I felt in my gut that they believed me. Whether they were willing to admit that or not was none of my concern. "Trash can needs a liner. I'm cleaning out the fridge when I get back." I take the keys and walk to my room. I still need to get dressed. I close the door behind me and take a breath. This would normally be the time a person would collapse after such a long display of power. But I feel clearheaded. All of this is for nothing if I crumble behind closed doors. I glance at myself in the mirror hanging from my door. No visible changes. I just feel different. Interesting. 

When I step out again, ready to brave the outside world, I notice the quiet that still lingers even through the rustle of the trash bags Darion is gathering and the water running in the kitchen as Genesis rinses dishes and loads the dishwasher. "I'm not mad. Just so y'all know. I'm just tired of looking at trash and battling gnats in the kitchen. Somebody had to do something." They nod like reprimanded children. Hopefully this part will ease the fear I struck in their hearts earlier. I don't want to traumatize people. They just needed to be scared into some discipline. "Wait," Darrion calls out as I open the front door, "I need the car to run the trash." The spirit spun me around faster than I could think. "No. You don't," I said lowly. Energy flaring out of me in what felt like a bright flash. The man took a step back. Thoroughly intimidated. I may have been imagining it, but I could've sworn I heard confused thoughts as to why he was so afraid. I spun back to the door and walked out of it. It may have been petty to make him walk the trash to the dumpster. Chalk it up to character building. I had errands to run.

[lady-divine-writes]

Coldflash one-shot - “Illusion” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Barry needs to find a way to fix things. To change things between him and Len. To stop the inevitable. But as smart as Barry is, with all of his super powers, are there some things that just can't be changed?

Notes: This is kind of a re-write of a one-shot I wrote for another fandom. Also, it has a twist to it, so you've been warned.

Read on AO3.

Pop …

Sizzle …

Crackle …

Whir …

The intense silence in the kitchen amplifies the sounds of breakfast cooking, but Barry’s mind has wandered so far from this room, the noise barely chips its way in. He’s working on autopilot, meandering from stove to sink to counter, paying no attention to where his feet land, his hands powered by déjà vu, not a thing pulling his notice – not the bacon, smoking in its oil, needing to be flipped; not the toast, popped in its slots, cooling for over thirty minutes; not the eggs he’s been whisking so fast they’re becoming meringue. A groan from upstairs jars him out of his stupor, and he finally looks down at the bowl of frothy pale yellow on its way to becoming white peaks. He glances over at the staircase, a huge lump settling above his Adam’s apple, then back at his eggs, and sighs. He was never that good at cooking anyway. Most of his adult life has been spent existing off of cold cereal and ramen soup when he wasn’t living with Joe and Iris. Of all his talents as a scientist and a superhero, whipping up pancakes or frying an egg wasn’t among them. Funny since cooking is basically science, a factoid that his boyfriend points out every morning Barry overcooks oatmeal.

Just this once, for this breakfast, Barry had wanted to get something right.

Labored footsteps cross the floor overhead and Barry continues whisking. He’s in no danger of making anything out of the eggs at this point, but he can’t think of anything better to do. It’s not actually about the breakfast, it’s about this moment. He’s been waiting all morning for it, and now that it’s arrived, he’s not ready to face it.

Thunk, thunk, thunk – the sound of one-hundred seventy pounds of lean muscle making its way to the kitchen kicks Barry into overdrive. He zips around, collecting up the edible elements of the meal and laying them out on the table. If he’d been searching for self-satisfaction, he’d have to admit that the spread he comes up with – a stack of toast and another of waffles, the original pound of unburnt bacon, and a farmer’s market worth of diced fruit – is impressive, especially considering he doesn’t remember making any of it.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Len grumbles to the streak of red lightning serving up food. “The infamous Flash making breakfast for little ol’ me? Whatcha tryin’a do, Red? Fatten me up before you drag me off to Iron Heights? My last decent meal as a free man?” He runs a hand over his shaved head, suspiciously side-eyeing the wall clock as he makes his way to the table. “12:30? So, either you let me sleep late on purpose or you’re still not talking to me.” He takes a seat, reclining with his arms locked behind his head. Silver-blue eyes watch Barry hop between pans on the stove, preparing what looks like a colossal meal.

Big meals mean people, and Len’s not exactly in the mood.

“Are you expecting guests for breakfast, Red? Iris? Joe? The CCPD, perhaps?”

“No,” Barry says, cursing the hoarseness in his voice. He turns off the bacon, gives up on the eggs, and sets two empty plates down on the table. Barry has yet to look at Len, spread out in his chair, observing him curiously. He’s been on the edge of tears all morning and if he looks at his face, that smug smile and those mischievous blue eyes, he’s not going to make it through breakfast. Crap! He should have done this another day.

“So, you’re not still mad at me for last night’s little escapade?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Even after I did something you expressly told me not to do? Something you said would destroy our relationship if I did?”

“Yes.”

Len’s eyelids narrow. “What about everything you said last night …?”

“I don’t care about that!” Barry slams his hand on the table hard, catching the lip of his plate and smashing it to bits. “I don’t care about any of it! Just forget it! Please? I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for what I said, for every fight we ever had! Please, just …!”

"Barry?” Len gets up from his chair and takes Barry’s hand, bleeding from a long cut down the palm. It’s also healing up fast, pushing pieces of ceramic out of his skin as it does. But Len still leads him to the sink to wash it off. “Barry, what’s going on with you? You’re acting like a moody teenager. You’re usually not this weepy over me pulling a job. You’re usually more punchy and jabby.”

“I don’t like this,” Barry admits, looking Len in the eyes for the first time since he came down to breakfast. “I don’t like what’s going on. I haven’t for a while, and I don’t … I’m having a hard time handling it.”

“And what’s that?” Len asks, lips pinched tight in defiance even though his eyes still brim with concern. “You and me? Is that what you’re talking about?”

“No, Len!” A tired breath accompanies Barry’s words because it always comes back to this. No matter what the argument, Len brings it back to them being together as Barry’s ultimate issue, as if running off on the Waverider at a moment’s notice to places unknown where Barry can’t contact him only to come home and pull jobs he swore off, with Barry eventually hunting him down to make sure he doesn’t end up dead – or arrested - would be less stressful than the two of them being together as a regular, every day couple. But that’s not how Len thinks. The everyday and the normal seem to be more of a burden to him than the shit he puts Barry through. “I … I just … I’m scared, Len! Scared you’ll walk out the door one day to a place I can’t go, I can’t find, and never come back! I don’t think I could handle it if you disappeared – blinked out of existence on another Earth or in another dimension!”

Len grins, his tight lips and concerned eyes melting into a cocky grin. “Oh, baby. We’ve been over this. I’m invincible, remember?”

Barry stares at his boyfriend, tears and screams and pleas threatening to split his skull, begging Len to see the truth. But Barry knows it’s no use. Nothing he can do, nothing he can say, will ever change what happens next.

Barry was right. He picked the wrong time for this.

“Yeah,” Barry sniffs sarcastically. “Yeah. You’re invincible.”

Len wraps his arms around Barry’s shoulders, confident he’s won this argument. And, of course, that means to the winner go the spoils.

“Say,” he starts, and Barry sighs, knowing where the conversation goes from here, “I know you spent all morning on this fantastic breakfast, but whaddya say you and I leave it for now, go upstairs, and maybe work up an appetite?”

Barry takes another look at Len’s handsome face, longer than the last, and shakes his head.

“Not today.” He takes a step back, the confusion on Len’s face heartbreaking, but Barry can’t. Not today. “Gideon? Pause simulation.”

“As you wish, Mr. Allen,” the melodic voice of the AI responds. The scene around him shifts, goes fuzzy. Except for Len’s face, which is crystal clear everywhere for Barry – here in STAR Labs and in his memory. Those memories have haunted Barry ever since the day the Waverider came back without Leonard Snart. Barry has been reliving those days within the confines of this program he’s created, mostly out of guilt, drudging up the details of how they left one another – Barry seething over a heist that didn’t matter in the long run, and Len, self-righteous as always, taking off without so much as a goodbye. Because Len wholeheartedly did believe he was invincible. He never would have conceived of the Waverider returning to Earth without him on it.

But what could Barry have done? How could he have changed things? If he could nail it down, then go back in time, maybe he could fix it. He created an algorithm inside Gideon’s programming to help him isolate it. He’s giving himself one shot. Considering how badly he tends to mess up timelines, he’d only take the one chance. Two if it seemed warranted.

But he hasn’t gotten to the point where he can will himself to take that next step.

Barry has an eidetic memory. He doesn’t need Gideon to regurgitate the same scenes from his final days with Len over and over until he tears his eyes out. All this is is an exercise in lying to himself. Because as much as he wants Len back, he wouldn’t have said the things he said to his simulation. He wouldn’t have completely absolved him. He couldn’t go against his principles, put the greater good in danger, for the man he loved.

Because Len and the things he did were dangerous.

But is there an alternative? In months of searching, Barry hasn’t found one. He’s not helping anyone by doing this. He’s torturing himself by giving himself hope that Len will come home one day and he can fix things between them.

But Len is gone. Dead and gone.

And Barry, with all his powers and all his talents, will never see him again.

[brokehorrorfan]

Event Report: Rock and Shock 2018

The Rock and Shock horror convention and concert series invaded the DCU Center and The Palladium in Worcester, MA last weekend, October 12-14. This year marked the 15th annual event, boasting a decade and a half of the biggest names in horror movies and alternative music descending upon New England every Halloween season.

I had the honor of hosting two panels on Friday night. The first featured New England Horror Writers members Jack Haringa, Rob Smales, Trisha Wooldridge, and Steve Van Samson. Their discussions of their writing careers, their approach, and their experiences with small press provided invaluable insight to the aspiring writers in the audience. For my second panel I was joined by Dawn of the Dead with stars Scott Reiniger and Gaylen Ross to celebrate the film's 40th anniversary. The old friends reflected on the landmark zombie movie and working with the late, great George A. Romero.

Saturday kicked off with a panel with the charismatic Ted Raimi (Evil Dead II). He opened with what was essentially a 10-minute standup routine about the Worcester/Boston area before answering questions. Fittingly, he even received a special microphone so he could stand up to address the crowd rather than sit behind the table. The actor spoke highly of Deadwax, the Shudder original series on which he recently worked, stating that he didn't want it to end. He also revealed that Lunatics: A Love Story, the 1991 comedy/romance film in which he stars, is finally coming to DVD for the first time soon.

Raimi's panel was followed by an equally entertaining but entirely different session with author Joe Knetter. It was billed as a reading from I, Survivor, the new Victor Crowley tie-in novel that he co-wrote with filmmaker Adam Green, but he only read a brief passage. The rest of the time was filled by Knetter - who admitted he was “floating on an edible” - musing from collaborating with Green to playing the killer in the upcoming Hanukkah alongside horror icons Sid Haig, Caroline Williams, and P.J. Soles. His raunchy and self-deprecating humor extended to his longtime girlfriend, indie scream queen Sarah French, who watched from the audience. It was a unique and hilarious experience.

Later in the day, Malcolm McDowell took the stage to answer fan questions. He discussed his seminal roles in Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange and Rob Zombie's Halloween films. (After admitting that he his still never seen John Carpenter's original Halloween, a fan gifted him with a VHS copy the next day.) The gregarious Brit spoke about some of his less publicized performances as well, including the recent fun he had doing Lunchables commercials. "Thank God they paid me a shit load of money," he mused.

On Sunday, Bill Moseley (The Devil’s Rejects), Andrew Divoff (Wishmaster),and R.A. Mihailoff (Leatherface: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre III) took over the panel room to discuss their legacies as icons of horror in a Q&A, which you can watch in its entirety here. Moseley was unfortunately unable to disclose any details on Rob Zombie’s Three From Hell, but it was a fun chat nonetheless. Divoff shared a particularly enlightening story about being an action figure.

For various reasons, several beloved Rock and Shock traditions were absent this year: the costume contest, the film festival, and the supergroup cover band The Rocking Dead. I hope to see them all reinstated in the future, but Sunday saw the launch of a new favorite tradition: a children's costume contest, hosted by Fiona's Fright Shoppe. A gaggle of adorable children dressed as killers from movies they've (hopefully) never seen proudly showed off their cosplay. Chucky took home first prize, with Dani from Hocus Pocus and IT's Pennywise placing second and third, respectively. It was truly heartwarming.

Next door at The Palladium, concerts took place throughout the weekend, beginning with a sold-out kick-off show from Ice Nine Kills on Thursday. Horrorcore hip-hop duo Twiztid headlined on Friday. Saturday offered a night of Swedish/Finnish metal featuring Amorphis, Dark Tranquility, and Wintersun. Two different shows took place on Sunday: downstairs was headlined by heavy metal titans Trivium, while hardcore stalwarts Terror brought the mosh upstairs.

In addition to the aforementioned names, other celebrity guests who met with fans throughout the weekend included Linda Blair (The Exorcist), making her Rock and Shock debut, along with Derek Mears (Friday the 13th), James Marshall (Twin Peaks), Dana Ashbrook (Twin Peaks), Jeremy Davies (Justified), William Forsythe (The Devil's Rejects), and Kelli Maroney (Chopping Mall), among others.

Per usual, the vendor room was loaded with horror DVDs, Blu-rays, toys, shirts, collectibles, artwork, handmade goods, tattoo artists, and more, but it was laid out differently this year. The floor space itself was smaller, but the configuration of the booths made it feel just as full. In addition the regulars, I was happy to find quite a few new faces and products among the vendors. I hope to see the Rock and Shock family to continue to grow in future years.

Click here to see all of my Rock and Shock 2018 photos.

[shallow-end]

Joy and wisdom

So I thought of telling you a bit about the state of things. I haven't written anything in a long time. Most of the times I think about writing are when I'm in bed and it's 1am, and that's not really appropriate, or comfortable. Writing is indeed a way to cope with how you feel, I remember writing an awful lot of things back when I slashed my arm, I wrote a lot in deed. Diana started to get a little angry because she saw me writing long paragraphs in Notepad++ and she had no idea if I was sending them to somebody or what. But I do miss writing. I just don't have many ideas about what to write. Sometimes they occur to me, but they usually come at times where I am busy at other thing, I'm outside, or I am just too sad to write about them.

So anyway, I'll talk about life without drugs, because why not? I can't talk about this to anyone. They really wouldn't understand. So here I go: I have been drug free for over 6 months, I was a hardcore user of THC for something close to 6 years. And by hardcore I mean, there wasn't a single day where I wasn't popping pills into my mouth.

I never smoked it, I took pills that contained THC oil, so in a way I did edibles everyday for six years. From what I've read, edibles kick the body way harder than smoking it. And it's no joke. Very quickly I got used to being high as a kite, every afternoon for six years I felt the anticipation and the urge of getting fucked up in the night. I became VERY dependable of it. And I couldn't stop using. The longest I went without using was 8 days. What a joke. It was terrible. The few days I didn't consume I became cranky, annoyed, and impatient. My poor wife had to deal with a lot of shitty moments and disappointments because of my drug addiction.

For six long years she put up with my crap. She got pregnant. And during pregnancy I consumed. Every day, after the birth of our lovely daughter I consumed, and I kept doing it, it was truly a sorrowful spectacle. Seriously, recalling all of this I feel truly sorry for all the pain I have caused to her. It was something that really made her uncomfortable but I just chose to ignore her, I just thought being high was more important.

I got used to going outside high, getting high after work. I remember back in 2016 I did something really stupid and it was getting high during work. I got high at 10am while I was working at Amadeus. It was probably the worst experience ever with drugs, I got so high and I tried to stay still in my desk, eyes fixated on the screen. Trying to hide from my coworkers that I was in another plane of reality. Then my boss called me to the desk of some coworker, and I was barely able to walk, I was very dizzy, my eyes surely injected with blood, and I couldn't understand shit.

I can't believe to this day they were so fucking stupid and didn't notice I was doing drugs in the office. They were dumb as fuck. After that god awful experience, I stopped doing it at work. It wasn't fun. Well. I kept doing it. But at work I only did it 30 mins before finishing the work day.

So for example. In 2018 when I work at IQ Outsourcing. I used to pop a pill or two at 5:30pm. So then after thirty minutes or so I would start feeling... Groovy. I no longer do drugs, and I want to stay away from them, but I gotta tell you, those days were amazing. Popping a pill, leaving work, and taking the bus back home, oh boy, it was beautiful! I remember I used to stick my head out of the bus the whole way home and just enjoy the scenery, the city at night, the trees in the dark, the tall buildings, oh shit, buildings look so beautiful when you're high. We kinda get used to them because they are everywhere now! But when I was high, looking at them it was as if I had never seen one before in my life. They were magnificent, specially in the mystery of the night.

But anyway, yes doing drugs brought a lot of good things, I got very invested in many subjects. I discovered many interests that before were waiting to blossom. Drugs allowed me to find my love for anthropology, biology and many other related subjects whose knowledge would have been definitely more difficult for me to grasp without the help of narcotics. I learned an awful amount of things about human behavior. Something that stuck with me for good, and became part of me. Even after I stopped using.

They allowed me to see human beings as what we truly are. Our manners, our behaviors, our biases and flaws. I learned to pay less attention to their words and more about the intentions those words carry. Incredibly valuable information. Last six years I've made great leaps understanding human behavior, and it is a knowledge I value more than any other knowledge. It has brought me a couple of problems with some members of my family, my wife and my sister Paula included, they accused me of getting too obsessed with those subjects, because I kept bringing them up to almost every conversation I had with them, and well, I'm not gonna lie, I did. I did a lot. And I even did the awful thing of using biology to justify my awful behaviors, such as cheating on my wife. Simple awful tactics I regret right now.

So yes, drugs and learning is a good combination. It is true that you'll forget most of the things you learn while you are high, but it is also true that when I was high I used to read a thousand times more than being sober, so I still learned more those days than from the little I read now. And the knowledge from those days is still in me. And for that I'm grateful.

But, as the reader surely knows, not everything was joy and wisdom. Addiction brought me a gigantic amount of problems, I became low confidence, my social anxiety grew enormously, and so my paranoia. Waking up early became impossible, my face became uglier, I looked ill all of the time, and my wife after many years of tolerating my drug abuse and cheating, decided to find support in other men. And this is when I started to realize I needed to quit that shit. The news of her cheating with some other man hit me so hard, I slashed my arm several times with a knife. I believe this was the trigger that motivated me to say bye to that devil, drugs give you joy for a while, but they leave you fearful after the fun. They say you don't quit alcohol or drugs until you truly want to quit, after you've finally reached the bottomest bottom, and for years I wondered what moment was going to be that one for me. For a long time I pictured many scenarios, like the sudden death of my daughter, a sick wife, or an accident.For years I wondered, and on April 13th 2021, I finally got the answer, I finally sank into that bottom to which I never want to return, no sir no more.

Life is still painful, but despite all the flimsy joy narcotics gave me, life was still painful then. It never stopped being like this, with or without them. So I just prefer this way. I am less creative, less funny, I talk less, but it has less consequences. And those six years, well, they still look small next to the more than 25 I've lived without them.

I do this for me, for my wife, for my daughter. They deserve a husband and a dad in his five senses, one that is available 24/7 and not only after 2pm. I don't want my daughter to remember me as a stoner, and I don't want my wife to see me as an unattractive red-eyed dopey. They deserve my best version. And I deserve to be better, I deserve to have better health.

Fabian

November 6th 2021

[washedouteyes]

ok here we go! all 99 questions from the “unique question” asklist for anon. i love you, whoever you are

i really hope this read more works

1:Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? 

closed. have to keep the gays in            

2:Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?    

depends how nice they are          

3: Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? 

out. i kick            

4:Have you ever stolen a street sign before?      

i wish        

5:Do you like to use post-it notes?         

i guess?    

6:Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?      

no        

7:Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?  

gimme the bear            

8:Do you have freckles?     

ideally        

9:Do you always smile for pictures?            

no, but im socially obligated to  

10:What is your biggest pet peeve?          

when people are condescending!    

11:Do you ever count your steps when you walk? 

during anxious days            

12:Have you ever peed in the woods?         

yes    

13:What about pooped in the woods?           

probably  

14:Do you ever dance even if theres no music playing?        

yes. my default dance move is “dumbass”    

15:Do you chew your pens and pencils?    

definitely. someone had to physically take my earbud out of my mouth last week          

16:How many people have you slept with this week?    

my small stuffed elephant doesn’t count          

17:What size is your bed?    

full?          

18:What is your Song of the week?

cut a hole by radiohead              

19:Is it okay for guys to wear pink?      

why is this a question? yes?        

20:Do you still watch cartoons?    

on occasion           

21:Whats your least favorite movie?    

never really hated a movie because i have a fairly good instinct for knowing what im going to like, but i guarantee if it has guns, the american flag, and plot device women im probably not going to like it          

22:Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?   

throw that shit in the ocean          

23:If you're a girl, bra size? If you're a guy, pants size?       

no      

24:What do you dip a chicken nugget in?   

ketchup?          

25:What is your favorite food?       

i love instant noodles and i am sorry      

26:What movies could you watch over and over and still love?    

donnie darko       

27:Last person you kissed/kissed you?

love you mom              

28:Were you ever a boy/girl scout?      

yes        

29:Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?   

my body is gross           

30:When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?  

hnggh... a year ago maybe? i gotta change that            

31:Can you change the oil on a car?      

i cant drive        

32:Ever gotten a speeding ticket?     

i cant drive        

33:Ever ran out of gas?       

i cant drive      

34:Favorite kind of sandwich?          

the edible kind? no mayo    

35:Best thing to eat for breakfast?          

cereal    

36:What is your usual bedtime?    

it probably averages around 1 or 2 am          

37:Are you lazy?     

very        

38:When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?      

a vampire (consisting of plastic fangs, jeans, white shirt turned backwards to hide the snowflake on the front, and a cape that was way too small)        

39:What is your Chinese astrological sign?     

no        

40:Are you horny?               

no

41:Do you have any magazine subscriptions?     

i am poor        

42:Which are better legos or lincoln logs?           

legos? i guess?  

43:Are you stubborn?        

very      

44:Who is better...Leno or Letterman?           

what  

45:Ever watch soap operas?  

nah            

46:Are you afraid of heights?      

nah        

47:Do you sing in the car?    

all the time          

48:Do you sing in the shower? 

all the time but doubled and echoing loudly off tile            

49:Do you dance in the car?     

occasionally         

50:Ever used a gun?  

yeah            

51:Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?        

no      

52:Do you think musicals are cheesy?     

la la land is a beautiful movie        

53: Is Christmas stressful?  

i am broke and i have seven friends, so yes            

54:Ever eat a pierogi?     

a what        

55:Favorite type of fruit pie?    

pie is nasty and thats the tea          

56:Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?        

a chemist? and i think a zookeeper at some point      

57:Do you believe in ghosts?

yeah              

58:Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?     

more than ever        

59:Take a vitamin daily?     

im supposed to        

60:Wear slippers?          

catch my feet being cold as fuck     

61:Wear a bath robe?         

no, what a luxury    

62:What do you wear to bed?  

underwear n oversized tee            

63:First concert?       

twenty one pilots

64:Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?  

target is the superior capitalist             

65:Nike or Adidas? 

i havent exercised since 1879            

66:Cheetos Or Fritos?     

fritos are made out of desert sand and corn        

67:Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?   

sunflower seeds. cronch          

68:Ever hear of the group Tres Bien?

no              

69:Ever take dance lessons?  

yes            

70:Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?     

soul reaping! ha ha ha        

71:Can you curl your tongue?     

no, but i can flip it upside down        

72:Ever won a spelling bee?    

second place. my school then proceeded to spell both my first and last name wrong          

73:Have you ever cried because you were so happy?     

trees was a 50/50 of sad and happy        

74:Own any record albums?  

nah            

75:Own a record player?       

i wish!      

76:Regularly burn incense?      

on occasion        

77:Ever been in love?        

i think?      

78:Who would you like to see in concert?

glass animals again would be sick, the neighbourhood and possibly idkhbtfm? which might happen actually              

79:What was the last concert you saw?    

glass animals! they’re fucking fantastic live          

80:Hot tea or cold tea?      

ice ice baby        

81:Tea or coffee? 

both are good!            

82:Sugar or snickerdoodles?   

sugar          

83:Can you swim well?    

not at all          

84:Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?   

yes!          

85:Are you patient?  

hmnggh... not really            

86:DJ or band, at a wedding?   

i was a flowergirl once but i fucked up the wedding so          

87:Ever won a contest?     

poetry        

88:Ever have plastic surgery?

no              

89:Which are better black or green olives?     

olives are for the weak        

90:Can you knit or crochet?  

does making rainbow loom bracelets count            

91:Best room for a fireplace?    

living room          

92:Do you want to get married? 

ill get back to you on that if im still alive in about 5 years            

93:If married, how long have you been married?  

no            

94:Who was your HS crush?        

no      

95:Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? 

i think... sometimes            

96:Do you have kids?      

no        

97:Do you want kids?        

no      

98:Whats your favorite color?      

i would say black but then everyone tells me its not a color so        

99:Do you miss anyone right now?   

a lot of people          

[oh-sufferingsappho]

Helping Hand

So my trashy ass wrote another OC x Guzma ficlet; they’re gonna kiss for real one of these days.

This time about Leda trying to fill her pokedex during one of her off-days; but Wimpod are hard to catch and you can’t catch Golisopod in the wild (Leda’s certainly not going to raise one herself). A certain ex-Team Skull boss gives her a hand.

Word Count: ~1800

Leda doesn’t like bug types, not really. She’s a bird girl herself, as if that wasn’t obvious by the ones she filled her team with. She just liked all their lovely plumage and their sharp beaks and their fast attacks. She liked that they were tough. However, due to this favoritism, she’s missing more than few entries in her pokedex. It was her day off, she was going to fill in more of these pokedex, if only to bring up those percentages that Rotom kept spouting off at her. (It was frustrating to know she wasn’t at more than 60% on each of the four islands.)

She’d been filling out most of Melemele’s dex for the last month or so, now she was over on Akala. The problem, however, was these damn Wimpod. Rotom wasn’t fast enough to scan them with how quickly they scampered away. She was going to need to coax one into a fight, but that seemed near impossible, they were far too scared.

The other choice she had was to physically catch one.

That was turning out to be a challenge too. A couple of her Pokemon were sitting on the sidelines; Orion, her midday Lycanroc, and Zephyr, her Decidueye, sat watching her scramble around. There was a touch of jealousy in their eyes as Leda dropped a handful of beans into the sand, then ducked behind one of the large rocks. Peeking around it, she waited for the Wimpod to sneak out again.

Fifteen minutes later, she was still waiting, cheek pressed against the sun-heated stone. Orion was laying down, paws padding in the sand, Zeph was preening his feathers. Both seemed as bored as their trainer was.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she repeated to herself. She lifted her head again to see the twitch of antennae coming out of me of the wall holes. A gasp caught in her throat and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. The bug crept closer to the small pile of pokebeans. She was almost bouncing on her feet.

Finally, it reached the beans and Leda leapt out from behind the rock. Her shoes slipped in the sand, scattering it everywhere. The Wimpod’s antennae shot up, eyes widening. Hands outstretched, she scrambled to try and grab it. She was mere inches away when it slipped easily back into the hole. Propelled and feet slipping in the sand, Leda fell.

Her shoulder hit the wall, hands shoved roughly against the sand. She felt the little sand bits and rock shards dig into her palm and knees. She groaned weakly.

“What the hell are you doin’?”

Shit.

She moved to sit up, instantly regretting pushing her hand against the wall as sand pressed harder into her palm. Well there was a familiar face with a confused expressipn to match.

“Hey, y'know, just … relaxing on the beach?” Guzma just cocked a brow at her. She dusted off her hands, plucking a rock that was particularly embedded. She sighed, head dropping back as she leaned against the wall. “I’m tryin’ to catch a Wimpod. Not like catch with a pokeball, just y’know catch so I can get the stupid dex entry.”

“Ya never gonna get one like that,” he said. Of course he’d know, she’s battled that Golisopod of his enough times.

“What'dya suggest then, Guz?”

He took a few steps over to her, offering a hand to help her to her feet. She stared at him for a second, from hand to face to hand. If he dropped her, Arceus help him. She took his hand, staring at him warily. He rolled his eyes then just pulled her to her feet.

“C'mere,” he said, dropping her hand then grabbing one of the beans from the sand. He shook it off before grabbing her hand again to press the bean into it. She just stared at him, letting him pull her down into a crouch a foot or so from the Wimpod cave. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Orion and Zephyr move to stand, protective of their trainer at the sight the ex-Skull boss. Holding her wrist, Guzma pushed her hand out towards the cave.

“What are we-”

“Shh.” She frowned. A curious expression rose to her face as he started making soft clicking noises in the direction of the little cave. She felt stupid, crouching there with sand covered knees. His hand was still curled around her wrist, eyes focused forward. He made a few more clicking noises with his tongue and she saw the tips of antennae poke out of the cave.

Slowly, the Wimpod crept closer, staring warily at Leda. Guzma gave a small nod, another few clicks, and gave her hand a slight tug closer to the nervous Pokemon. It took another few steps and then gently took the bean from her hand. Surprisingly, it didn’t immediately race away. Even more surprising, Guzma reached out and easily traced his fingers down its back without so much more than a small flinch from the bug pokemon. What did almost make it run was Leda’s Rotomdex suddenly starting up as it leapt from her bag.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Guzma hushed as it moved to run. A few moment later, the dex popped up in front of her face to spit out the entry. Rotomdex’s screen lit up with the slowly spinning 3D wimpod figure.

“Wimpod; the Turn Tail pokemon. - bzzt - This Pokémon is a coward. As it desperately dashes off, the flailing of its many legs leaves a sparkling clean path in its wake. Its habitat varies from beaches to seabeds. - bzzt - A natural scavenger, it will gleefully chow down on anything edible, no matter how rotten.” With that, it shut off and popped away back into her bag.

When the Wimpod finally finished the bean, it looked between the two and then ducked away back into its hole. Leaning back on her heels, she noticed that Guzma’s hand was still curled around her wrist. She just smirked lightly, sliding her hand up to grab his hand. He looked at her confused for a second, but she just stood up, pulling him with her.

She expected him to pull his hand away immediately, but he didn’t. The champion just flashed a winning smile his way, tucking her free hand into her pocket.

“So…” she started, rocking on her heels, “Can I see your Golisopod for a minute? Y'know, tryin’ to fill the dex, don’t think I can find one of those anywhere.”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, leting go of her hand to grab his pokeball. With a flash of red, the familiar (uncomfortably large) pokemon stood beside Guzma. Her face went pale as she had to lean back slightly to look at it fully.

“Why’s it so b-big?” she said, swallowing thickly. Guzma looked at her, brow raised a moment. Then he grinned widely.

“You scared?” he said, then laughed; the Golisopod just glanced between them. Her face flared red and she crossed her arms tightly.

“W-what? No! I’m not!” A complete lie. She wasn’t scared of all bug pokemon, just the really big ones, and the Golisopod stood more than an entire foot taller than her. Guzma just laughed again, louder. Her brows drew together in annoyance, frowning as she reached to grab Rotomdex out of her bag. She started him up, waiting for the Rotom to scan the giant bug. It dinged and the scanned Golisopod popped up.

“Golisopod; the Hard Scale pokemon. With a flashing slash of its giant sharp claws, it cleaves seawater – or even air – right in two. - bzzt - It battles skillfully with its six arms, but spends most of its time peacefully meditating in caves deep beneath the sea.”

Leda glanced up at the Golisopod. Well, those were two entirely different things. Is it a calm meditating pokemon or a skillful, likely very dangerous, battling pokemon? She frowned slightly. Guzma looked at her, mouth falling into a frown.

“He’s not gonna hurt you or anything, ya know?” He pet the Golisopod on the head as it leaned down. “He’s a big softie.” Leda just laughed, though it was half a snort. He looked back at her, confusion lacing his features at her sudden outburst.

“Like you?” She lifted a brow at him. He choked. She could swear she saw a glimpse of blushing on the tips of his ears. “Aww, big bad Guzma, you’re a real softie ain’t ya?”

“Am not!” She was the one laughing now, however she was interrupted as someone bumped up against the back of her thigh. When she glanced down, Orion had her bag in his mouth and there was a buzzing from it. Her phone. She leaned down to take it out, flipping it open. Guzma stared at her curiously as she flicked the phone open.

“Hey - uh huh - but I’m -” she sighed softly, “Okay, okay, I’ll be there. Gimme an hour to get back.” She clicked the phone closed, turning back to Guzma and his Golisopod. She gave a small wave with the phone. “Champion problems. Some trainer’s kicking up a fuss about me not being there.”

“Not an easy job, eh?” he said. Leda just shrugged, shoving her phone into her bag and taking it from Orion. She pet the rock wolf in thanks before putting him and Zephyr back in their pokeball.

“It’s not,” she said, but smiled anyway. “It’s fun though, battling trainers that are so powerful. Really makes you think about what you doing. It’s a real thrill.”

She hiked her bag up onto her shoulders, pulling her ride pager out. Charizard would be a good one, it’d certainly get her back quickly. Clicking in the choice, she watched the little orb light up. It was barely two minutes later when a familiar roar came from the sky and the Charizard landed in the sand.

She turned to look at Guzma once again.

One hand on his shoulder, she pulled him down a bit then leaned up on her toes before pressing a swift kiss to his cheek. She barely paused to look at him, or note the red flushing his face, before twisting on her heel to go hop on the Charizard’s back.

“Oh, and thanks for the help. With the Wimpod and Golisopod and all.” She flashed a grin back at him. He shoved one hand into his pocket, the other throwing up a small wave. She smirked then threw a two-finger salute in goodbye. “See ya around then, huh?”

Then Charizard took off into the sky, the girl’s blue hair flaring out behind her.

“Yeah, see ya around.” Guzma murmured, watching her disappear back to her mountain. He shook his head, fingertips touching the spot on his cheek she’d kissed. He looked at Golisopod and sighed, hands tucking back in his jacket pocket, “Let’s go home.”