#they'll both be in a room full of people and only look for each other

[inklore]

THEY'RE ACTUALLY IN-FUCKING-SANE FOR THIS

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[tealvenetianmask]

Blitz is dyslexic (petty post about why I'm right with proof from recent episodes)

Disclaimer: I don't have dyslexia, so I can't speak from personal experience, BUT neurodivergent people tend to find each other, and I've been very close with a few people with dyslexia, to the point where I've extensively edited their writing. I've also learned quite a bit about dyslexia while working in the education field. Okay- let's go.

I hear way too often (yes, I'm referencing a certain youtuber here) that Blitz can't have dyslexia because we sometimes see him reading and we sometimes see him writing without errors. So when he shows spelling and grammatical errors in his texts and notes to self, that must just be him being rude/trying to be cute/being lazy.

And if the errors were just slang and abbreviations, maybe the people making those arguments would have a point. But they're not. And I'm convinced that he has dyslexia. So what gives? Why the inconsistency (assuming it's an intentional choice on the part of the writers)?

Most dyslexic adults CAN write correctly with extra effort. It's just harder. In the learning disability world, we sometimes call it self- accommodating. With any disability, that means doing work that neurotypical people don't have to do in order to overcome the obstacle that the disability poses- and often, no one else sees that work or understands that it's necessary. For people with dyslexia, that often means that they have to check and double check their writing.

When YOU AND I (if we're both non-dyslexic people) write casually and don't put in effort, our spelling is going to be mostly correct. And if we use slang and abbreviations, it's a choice. When someone with dyslexia shoots off a quick text, it's going to look messy, and they'll probably only do it in a text to someone they're comfortable with. THAT IS THE DIFFERENCE.

Let's look at some recent examples from Helluva Boss.

Blitz is writing notes to himself here, so he doesn't have any need to make them presentable. Cute inside jokes with himself are possible (i.e. the horses and nicknames that we sometimes see), but the spelling mistakes here don't really make sense as jokes. They also wouldn't be easier to write than the correct words for someone who isn't dyslexic. Mok(backward S)ie isn't shorter than Moxxie, and remembr isn't much shorter than remember. The spelling is also phonetic, which fits with how many people with dyslexia spell in initial drafts. He just isn't watching for and correcting his mistakes, because why would he in this situation?!

Okay, different situation . . . the apologies. I would argue that Blitz IS putting in physical effort here, even if it's not emotional effort. He brings entire gift baskets full of his favorite foods for the people on his apology list after all. Here's what he writes to the DHORKS:

I think "sowy" IS meant to be cute here. It's not phonetic after all. He put a little effort into drawing them a cute little horse too. And then the cherubs . . .

I think this is pretty interesting. Blitz actually bothers here to fix his spelling mistake. He spells everything right on the inside too, even though he's telling these guys "fuck you." Notice that he runs out of room and has to write sideways. And notice the nice block letters on the front. In terms of why he's trying so much here, well, it's to prove to Stolas that he can put effort into apologizing to people, isn't it? And that means that the unintentional errors get fixed!

Now, Blitz tries to text an apology to Stolas (and obviously stalls for emotional reasons), and we see him typing it in real time,

Yeah . . . it's a combination of shorthand and just plain old misspellings. He's focused on choosing the right words, not on getting the spelling right, and it's impossible to say he doesn't care at this point. Someone who has an easy time writing correctly spelled text might use some shorthand, but just like we saw with Blitz's notes to self, they wouldn't likely intentionally misspell completely unnecessary things, especially when trying to come off as genuine.

Sigh. I rest my fucking case.

If you'd like to see my thoughts on that text conversation from Western Energy, go ahead and click on the link- it isn't really about dyslexia, and I do actually think that Blitz is pretty literate in spite of his disability and limited education, but it does explain why I think the conversation goes the way it does.

[lukesvangelista]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

in which connor is left to pick up the pieces after losing y/n.

warnings; death (mentions suicide and mental health issues), connor having to grow up quickly, grief

based off of last words of a shooting star by mitski

all of this turbulence wasn't forecasted, apologies from the intercom

and i am relieved that i left my room tidy

they'll think of me fondly when they come for my things

Time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

Connor sat in the driver's seat of his 2008 Honda Civic, his eyes focusing on the neighborhood road in front of him. Christmas lights were shining brightly all around him, but the boy's heart and mind didn't reciprocate the brightness surrounding him. Instead, his soul was sad as he looked up from the road, his eyes meeting your childhood home. The same childhood home in which you and Connor first met.

A five year old Connor stood nervously at your doorstep, his light brown hair blowing mindlessly in the wind. His arms were loaded with a tray of cookies that his mom had made. Your family had recently moved to North Vancouver from what the Bedards presumed was the United States, seeing as an American flag was displayed above your garage. As your new next door neighbors, his mom took it upon herself to welcome you to the neighborhood, and there was no better way to do so than a five year old with cookies.

The door swung open and Connor was met with a woman, who he later learned was your mom, and you, his newfound best friend. From then on, you and Connor became inseparable.

The same childhood home in which you and Connor had late night conversations through cup phones.

Funnily enough, Connor soon learned that his bedroom was exactly across the way from yours. What began as small waves to each other when you both realized the other was in their room, quickly turned into both of you cracking your windows open to have full-fledged conversations with each other. As the years went by and you and Connor grew older, you decided that that wasn't enough, and brought it up with Connor that night before going to bed. The next morning, you woke up to a cup phone sitting on your bedroom desk, and a long piece of yarn attached to it. It didn't take long for you to discover that the cup lead to Connor's room. It did, however, take a little while to discover a note that Connor had left for you.

"you left your window open, so i figured there was no better time to do this. i spent all night finishing this - i even drew a dog on your cup because i know you like them so much! - connor".

The same childhood home in which you and Connor realized you loved each other.

Now teenagers, it was evident that there was something going on between you and Connor. However, it seemed as if everyone but the two of you were aware of it. Both his mom and dad and your mom and dad had sworn that the two of you were going to grow up and get married, and his sister always claimed that she would be the maid of honor, but both you and Connor swore that the two of you were only best friends, and that's all that you guys would ever be.

However, that all changed the morning of your 16th birthday. Connor had turned 16 a few months prior, and he spent the days leading up to it driving around town to acquire the decorations needed to decorate. The night before your 16th, you and Connor had planned a sleepover. Little did you know, however, that while you were fast asleep in one of Connor's Regina Pats t-shirts, he had spent another night wide awake for you, just to decorate his kitchen in order to surpise you.

When you woke up the next morning, Connor was nowhere to be found in his sleeping bag on the floor (the boy let you take his bed so you'd be more comfortable, and despite your protests, he insisted). Confused, you got out of bed, and were immediately hit with the soft sound of music and the crackling of bacon. You softly smiled to yourself as you made your way down the stairs, expecting to be met with Mrs. Bedard, but instead, you found Connor hunched over the stovetop, grilling the bacon.

His hair was disheveled and he was wearing his favorite Regina Pats hoodie, gray sweatpants adorning his legs. You stood there for a bit before making your presence known, snaking a hug around Connor's waist as you noticed all of the decorations around you, "Happy birthday, sunshine."

You let out a soft gasp as you took in the sight around you, your eyes admiring all of the work Connor had put in just for you. He smiled as your eyes twinkled in excitement, mentally celebrating to himself as he realized how much you loved everything, "Connor, you shouldn't have... this is amazing, thank you. I don't think anything can make this day better."

His smile grew even bigger, which he didn't know was even possible. As you went around the kitchen to admire the decorations up close, Connor went back to cooking the bacon. The random playlist he had on shuffled through a few songs, and soon landed on 'At Last' by Etta James. You grinned, heading over to Connor.

"Con, I think I have found something that can make this day better."

"And what is that?" "Dance with me."

Connor didn't protest. Instead, he turned around and placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist, and the two of you began to slow dance around the kitchen to the soft voice of Etta James. Despite no words being exchanged between the two of you, both you and Connor could feel the love you had for each other. After all, love understands love - it needs no talk.

The same childhood home in which you eventually took your life.

Connor knew you were struggling. From the moment he had met you, he had the ability to read you like an open book. So when you became quieter shortly after your sweet sixteen, he became concerned. At first, you tried to blame it on stress from school and extracurriculars in an attempt to reassure him, but Connor could see right through you. He knew you were hurting, but what he didn't know was that you were never going to recover from this pain.

Although Connor wasn't home all the time, he would send you encouraging text messages every morning and would talk with you every night on the phone, for hours on end, though your cell phones couldn't compare to the cup phones that still hung between your guys' bedroom windows. He even asked his parents and Madi to keep a closer eye on you when he was gone.

He was in Regina when it happened. His parents had come to see him play against the Everett Silvertips, and were planning on staying for the weekend to catch up with him. His day was going great, and he didn’t think anything could have ruined it. That was until after the game, when he had tried to call you - multiple times - to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. Each and every time he called, he was met with your voicemail. A pit of concern was growing in his stomach, but he tried to settle it by convincing himself that you had fallen asleep and we’re okay. When he had gotten back to his apartment after the game, however, the worry in his stomach only grew when he saw his parents sitting on his couch, both teary-eyed.

“Connor…” he made eye contact with his mom, who could barely hold herself together. Somehow, he had put the pieces together - it was about Y/N, and it wasn’t good - but he still felt the need to ask about her before jumping to conclusions.

“Y/N’s fine, right? She’s just sleeping, or driving, which is why she’s not answering any of my calls?” Connor asked warily, his voice shaky. His mom only cried harder at her son’s question and his dad sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Connor hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his eyes glassy, his head shaking in disbelief, “She’s not… she’s not dead, right? She can’t be.”

“She’s gone, Connor,” his dad replied, his heart breaking at the state his son was already in, “Her mom called us a bit ago. She committed suicide.”

“No!” Connor shouted, his mouth curving into an upward smile of pure shock, “You’re lying to me! Y/N’s not dead, she can’t be!” he pulled out his phone again and began to dial her phone number, “If I call her right now she’ll answer me. She was just taking a nap!”

Immediately, Connor’s mom got up to hug him and at that moment, he knew she was gone. His best friend, his love, the one person who knew him more than anyone else in the entire world, was gone. He dropped his phone and let out a blood-curdling scream, falling to his knees as his mom tried to keep up with him. His dad joined his wife and son on the floor as the the three Bedards grieved together, knowing they would never again get to see sweet and beautiful Y/N Y/L/N.

Your funeral had been the hardest part for Connor. There wasn't much crying during the actual procession, except from him. As your dad, his dad, Kent Johnson, Tanner Hayes, your cousin and him were carrying your casket down the aisle of the church, tears rolled down the young boy's lightly-freckled cheeks like a flowing waterfall.

During your actual burial, however, things were the exact opposite, Connor felt numb, and couldn't process that you were actually gone. However, the others realized that they would never, ever hear your voice again. They would never again get to see your smile, or hear your contagious laugh. Madi and Mrs. Bedard shook in each other's arms, trying their best to comfort one another. Your mom trembled as your dad rubbed her back softly. A group of your cousins all huddled together in a heartbreaking group hug. Connor’s dad really tried his best to hold it together for everybody else, but when he saw the casket being lowered into the ground, he broke. You had been like a daughter to him. He pretty much knew that his son was going to grow up to marry you. Mr. Bedard collapsed to the ground on his knees, his heart breaking more and more each second. But then there was Connor - absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever. He couldn't feel anything.

Here Connor was, sitting in his car a year later. The Blackhawks had given him a break to be with family during this time, specifically after Nick Foligno had seen how broken the kid was over the situation. He could see your mom and dad having dinner through the window, but he knew it wasn’t the same. They had left an empty chair, plate and silverware out on the table for every meal after you had left.

The cup phones were still hanging between his bedroom and yours. Connor didn’t have the heart to take them down - if they remained up, the two of you would still be connected in some way, and although that way wasn’t ideal, it was better than nothing.

The American flag was still up, but by now was joined by a Canadian one as well. Things were different now, but not for the better.

Connor reached over to his passenger seat, in which sat a gift-wrapped box. Your parents had given it to him on Christmas Day last year, explaining that it was the gift that you were going to give him that day. He thanked them kindly, but didn’t have the heart to open it. He needed some more time before he could face the memories of you again.

He was finally ready. Connor wiped off some dust particles from the year old wrapping paper before carefully moving to untie the bow of ribbon on top of the present - it was your signature move. When he managed to unwrap the wrapping paper and open the box, tears came to his eyes immediately.

A handmade blanket was revealed to him. In the very center, the fabric of his old Regina Pats t-shirt - the one you were wearing when you guys realized you loved each other - was revealed, and ‘Bedard - 98’ was written across. Another square of fabric was a piece of your baby blanket, on which your warm scent still lingered. Connor gripped the blanket close as if he was physically holding you in his arms, as if you were physically here with him.

For the first time in a year, Connor allowed himself to grieve. He missed you so much, and desperately wished you were back in his arms, but finally realized that the world goes on. Once again, time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

For awhile, Connor thought he could’ve saved her. He thought his love for her was enough to show her the beauty and goodness of the world which can so often be cruel. Connor loved Y/N in many ways, and the fact is that the blue-eyed boy could've loved her in an infinite number of ways, but really, he could've never loved her in a way that was enough to make her stay.

That’s just something Connor Bedard would have to live with for the rest of his life.

an; merry christmas and happy holidays i guess???

[biipbop]

I feel like my Jun hc doesn't align with fanon Jun.

Like I compare him a lot to Ruan Nanzhu from KoD but I really do see them being the same kind of brat. The kind to act cute and docile while snickering in the background. And to a degree if you see him snickering it means he probably likes you to some degree to see the real version of him.

I like the idea of Jun being cute towards Tatsuya and getting him to flirt in front of other people. Tatsuya would be shy about it at first but want to indulge his boyfriend. Jun would want him to do it both because he's possessive ("uwu isn't my boyfriend sooooo handsome? Well keep looking cause he loves me and only me") and because he wants to tease his boyfriend. Tatsuya would soon come to realize this and of course would just lay it on thicker and try to get his boyfriend to blush.

He and Lisa would be best friends in the long run but have the most toxic mean girl start before realizing they're so much more powerful together. They're both outsiders so they get the need to be a certain level of mean especially towards people who act on bad faith. But they wont realize that until they're adults. Until then they're friends but they do try to outshine each other and fight over a boy. When lisa eventually gets over Tatsuya she'll try and flirt with other boys. Jun would have 0 interest in them but would 100% flirt with them just to one up Lisa. It would be a problem between him and Tatsuya. It would be their first real fight as a couple. And a good growing moment for Jun.

When they're adults and more well adapted Jun and Lisa will be able to sit down and have a difficult conversation where they'll be able to forgive each other for their actions when they were younger. It'll be the start of their best friend era. They're the kind of best friends who will call each other everyday just to see how their day went. Lisa would be the one to teach him to express himself through fashion. He would have a secret interest in visual kei thanks to eikichi. Lisa would be the one that teaches him that clothes have no gender (in the future when eikichi Tatsuya and Jun start performing Jun would be iconic for his outfits)

Eikichi is protective of Jun and Jun takes full advantage of that. "My big brother can kick your ass" leads to Eikichi getting his ass kicked more often than he wants to admit before he starts working out. His first and only attack is lifting Jun over his shoulder before hauling ass out of the scene. Jun is all devil horns when it comes to Eikichi. All his fights would never be against bigger guys. He would instead target girls (mostly Lisa) knowing eikichi would not fight back.

Eikichi is also unfortunate in that he never really understands that his bros are dating. Not in the sense that he doesn't know Tatsuya and Jun are dating but in the sense that he doesn't realize they're on a date and he just wedged himself between. It becomes a problem early on that the two can't get alone time between Lisa trying to sabotage their dates and eikichi just being there. Jun, in hopes of making eikichi understand, would start some excessive pda. Eikichi still would not understand. He at most would turn his back to them before continuing the conversation. Eventually this is just normal to them. On tour during their broke era the 3 would share a room. There would be at least 3 incidents where tatsuya and Jun would have sex in the room with eikichi in the room before they all realize maybe they need to set boundaries. They never actually set boundaries.

Also, miyabi is very aware of all this. The need to set a boundary is brought up by her. ("I don't think either of you would be comfortable with Eikichi and I sleeping together while you're trying to sleep" 3 confused faces would stare back at her "but Id be sleeping?") When in highschool Jun would plan double dates only for Eikichi to show up alone. Jun would later learn that if he wanted Miyabi to show up he would have to plan the double date through Miyabi. It isn't anything intentionally malicious. Eikichi just thinks they're having boys dates forgetting that the other 2 boys are boyfriends.

With Maya Jun is pure sugar. He goes full baby boy energy. Maya knows the horns are there and can see it when adding another person to their interactions (especially Tatsuya. As cute as he acts with Tatsuya he can't help but tease him and Maya can see it clearly). He can never be a little mean to Maya so Maya teases him knowing he'll never do anything back.

This is all super rambly but I have no other idea how to express how I see him besides trying to get across that while he's a pretty boy he'd also be a stinky boy. The kind who wears all black and steals his friends clothes. He knows how pretty he is and the older he gets the more he uses it to his advantage to start drama and walk away. He would be the type who would see someone checking him out and if they have a partner would come up to flirt and then walk away from a disaster. The type who gets himself into trouble and then laugh as they away with the person who came to save him.

The type who would be a nightmare teenager that smokes and drinks and goes out late at night. Not sneak out because he lacks the adult supervision but would for sure be out late at night. Probably sneak into Tatsuya's room if Tatsuya can't sneak out, or go to music venues with eikichi if they can.

And as corny as it is I love the idea of them becoming more tamed with becoming a parent (bc y'all know I love that flower child au). Tamed not in the sense where they suddenly become perfect parents but in the sense that they would work hard to hide the fact that they smoke. Going to extreme measures to make sure Akira never catches them smoking. Eventually Tatsuya would quit and Jun would follow just because he wants to be a supportive husband. Jun would regret all his social media posts and fame when Akira gets older. Everyone jokes how Jun is being punished for his own antics when Akira takes after him personality wise (dramatic and bratty).

[r0-boat]

Random Emmet hcs

Just a collection of random thoughts I had about him every once when I had various thoughts about him. Or things I've changed my mind about when I made posts like this similar in the past. Anyways enjoy! ( I miss writing Submas :( )

Sfw below cut for length

Follow me on this blog for multifandom writing content (mostly Pokemon)

He's very competitive when it comes to anything with competition although he's very good at Pokemon battles, because to him winning a battle not only means better in skill and raising your Pokemon but also a bigger Bond with trainer and companion he is actually happy when he loses because it still means he has a lot to learn and grow which he is always happy to know more, and he gets to see a happy trainer and happy Pokemon celebrate their victory is there a greater reward than that? But for some reason video games he becomes a sore loser no yelling no Tantrums just silent anger stowing in his Petty thoughts he'll never act out.

He was lying on his living room floor with a blanket topped over him in a T-shirt and sweatpants when he was sick because, for some reason, the floor felt better than his own bed.

Hangs up memes around the office or sends his friends semi cursed images / memes for no reason with little too no explanation. And has a whole folder in his phone just for joltik/other bug pokemon image memes, just in case he needs to react to anything he can't put into words.

I still think he likes to play scary games but his favorite ones are the ones he gets to play with his friends and laugh at their deaths. Skyla and Emmet give each other Petty nicknames and fight with each other on the regular especially over text online and in games. They fight like siblings which is funny because image is actually really close with his brother and doesn't understand why a lot of people aren't packed with their siblings. Sometimes, your sibling's actions can get on your nerves, but their family are sometimes the only ones who can understand you.

He takes self degradation even if they're jokes very seriously.

If Emmet could he would be a full-time joltik breeder I mean don't get me wrong he probably has dozens of them but I mean those breeders that have cool morphs of like certain lizards, snake and insects. Because I refuse to believe in the world of Pokémon that they are no Pokemon that are the same species but with different patterns/ fur or scale color/ breeds etc. He tried to do it himself, but he was stopped by a certain someone

Emmet cannot have TikTok downloaded as much as he loves the app; he will spend hours and hours on it and flood his poor brother and Friends with 99+ notifications. One of the depot agent managers runs the official TikTok account, and before they post anything, both brothers have to check for inappropriate content.

Emmet is either very photogenic or takes very cursed blurry photos there is no between. They'll either be a photo that looks almost professionally done with perfect lighting with his loose tie and shirt half buttoned while another one will have the lighting making it look like his eyes are glowing while the entire photo is dark with his hand coming down on the camera with a caption that says "POV: you're a bug Pokemon"

Still trying to win Nimbasa's hottest Bachelor after his brother who had one the last 3 years in a row😔

Genshin player/bias

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 1: Daria/Jane, Winter Break

Hmmmmm, well. A continuation of this.

Daria/Jane, ~700 words, 23 minutes

Sap, sap, sap.

*

The Pizza King is full of high schoolers--a prime example of how they have changed, even though the world, or at least Lawndale, has stayed the same--so they agree that next time, they'll find somewhere else to eat. Over mushrooms and jalapenos, they reminisce about when they were that age, as if they were ages older. They don't talk about how, the night before, they'd accidentally kissed or what that means, and maybe if they don't discuss it, that means it isn't important at all.

If this had happened with anyone else, Jane would be the first person she'd tell.

They spend the afternoon together, stopping by all of the old haunts, feeling old. She notices all the new ways that Jane touches her now, things she'd taken for granted in a new location and feeling like a new self: how often Jane grabs her arm or nudges their shoulders together or even sometimes takes Daria's hand and squeezes it, if she wants to get her attention.

By the time they're back in their own neighborhood, early winter-dusk is starting to fall. The grass is cracked with frost that never melted. Daria has her hands deep in her pockets, her fingers much too cold. Jane seems reluctant to go back to her own place, but still declines an invitation to dinner. "But I'll see you tomorrow," she says. It's not even a question.

When she leans in, she doesn't press a kiss to Daria's cheek, like she usually does, but aims right for her mouth and doesn't miss. Daria kisses back. But it's only a moment. Feels not unlike the other kisses did: like just something they do now, an extension of three and a half years of friendship, of whatever this bond is between them she's long stopped trying to name. The gesture is affectionate, warm. Jane smiles at her after, before she turns around and walks down the drive again.

The next day is frigid by Lawndale standards and the snow flurries look like something that might almost stick. They hang out in Jane's old bedroom because it's where her easel is. But the house feels different now--emptier--even some of Jane's art is gone from the walls, because she took her favorite stuff with her, and it's up in her dorm room in Boston making that place look like home.

They talk about the Trent situation and Daria watches Jane paint and doesn't pretend to do anything else, because it's winter break and she's tired and lazy and this is the only thing she wants to do in the world. When Jane hits a snag, needs a break, she lies down too, on the other side of the bed. They're face to face and staring at each other.

"Jesse would probably move up to Boston with him," Jane says, very quiet and serious, grinding down the unsaid into actual words. "Max would say he would, then chicken out. Nick won't leave his kid."

"So no more Mystik Spiral." It feels heady to say, like vertigo. "Or they could take the whole family."

"Nick and his kid and his ex?" Jane raises an eyebrow.

"Mass exodus."

"I guess anything's possible."

Or it's just the end of an era. Or change is good for people, sometimes.

Jane reaches out and tugs on the lapel of Daria's jacket, like she's trying to straighten it. She doesn't wear it as often up at school--sometimes, but she doesn't need it like she used to. Jane shifts a little closer, and Daria twists the cords hanging down from the hoodie of Jane's sweatshirt idly around her fingers. Her heart's pounding maybe a little too hard, but it's just Jane, so she knows the feeling in her chest isn't nerves.

Jane shifts closer then and somehow they end up curled together, Daria holding her, until fairly soon Jane has fallen asleep. This has happened before, more than once, up in Boston. A part of her wonders why it never happened when they were still in high school.

Daria leaves not long before dinner, and only because her parents are expecting her. At the door to Jane's room, they both linger a long moment; Daria is thinking idly about how their fingers are entwined. Jane's goodbye kiss is on the mouth again. Maybe it lingers. And afterward, she squeezes Daria's hand before she lets go.

[mfjenks]

ok, i'm game now Some theories and predictions after episode 4: -it is too often implied that the murderer is a woman, so i'm pretty sure that the murderer is a man. My top of suspects at the moment is something like: 1. Cliff, with his mother aware of his crime and covering him (i'm not sure whether it's a great addition to the whole parend-child storyline or a bit hackneyed as it has some parallels with Teddy&Theo story). May had an affair with Ben, may commit it to impress his mother and create something his own *Donna killing Ben in order to protect her son is also more than possible, it ruins the idea of "the say it's a woman so it's a man", but quite fits 2. Dickie - (crime of passion because of Ben eating cookies) any reason??? 3. Jonathan. Well, he was his understudy, sounds like a motive. OR maybe he tried to kill him for the first time, but he wasn't his killer after all 4. Tobert. Well, I think that they won't do the main hero's love interest the killer again, but if they do, he is kinda creepy and it's more likely to be him than Joy (who has already became a prime suspect) or Loretta Howard is cute in his own strange way, i don't believe it's Howard -The person who poisoned him and the person who was the reason he fell into the elevator shaft are two different people???? -I 1000% agree with the theory that Ben was speaking to cookies -In the first season it was Mabel's childhood friend who was killed and the story from their past, in the 2nd season Charles' father was on the painting, so the mystery is somehow connected to Oliver's past as he's already portrayed as the leading part in this season (but maybe his previous theatrical failures and his worries about the show is already such point, still there will be more flashbacks) -Poor Oliver will have a heart attack at the most inappropriate moment, probably in front of Mabel and Charles, making them, Will and all of us experience our own heart attack. Probably as a cliffhanger. I think in the episode 7 or 8. He lives, of course, but I'm ready to cry my eyes out -And creates the idea of final banger of the show (or thinks about killer's identity. or both) during clinical death. In the episode with his narration and some flashbacks. Creates another chaotic masterpiece and continues his work on the show almost immediately. Maybe agrees (with the face full of sorrow and whining) to quit dips if Will asks but never gives up on show and investigation. Then constantly boasts about his "death" like one of his acquaintances and says Ben beaten him. It's the most Oliver Putnam thing ever -I HATE the theory of Charles murdering Ben being in the white room and I'm sure it won't be true BUT this theory may be mentioned in the show. Like they'll finally find out it's not true, but suspect it at some point, Charles is not sure if he actually hasn't kill Ben, and maybe it will in some way be the thing that triggers Oliver's heart attack???? -I actually like the theory of Loretta being Dickie's mother, especially after the look he gave her at Look for the light. She's not a murderer, but the prime suspect for one or two episodes -Joy is also obviously pretty innocent, but Charles and her break up -Final episode will be more like season 2 than season 1: the true murder will be revealed only in the last ep. during another scene with Poirot-like false accusations. According to the trailer, with detective Williams there in the theatre, but maybe this takes place a bit earlier and the true killer revealed in another scene -Murderer reveal party is paralleled to and shown together with the episodes from the musical -This Mabel's wedding scene is either season 4 flashforward or staging used to reveal the murderer. I'd like to see the Theo as at least fake husband, but i think it will be Tobert. MAYBE the wedding will be aimed to expose Tobert himself, but I still believe he's too obvious to be the killer -Oliver and Loretta break up, but on a happy note grateful to each other, and Loretta finally goes to "take Hollywood by storm" after the show

(and Oliver and Charles end up together) -Mabel finishes podcast and then takes Cinda's job offer and moves out, still mantaining cute relationship with her old boys well it was a lot….

[lunarthecorvus]

My Kanej headcanon

Kanej and a dance

Part 1 to the headcanon here remember this is not a fic just a headcanon/ word vomit

Some context: Kanej have come out to the public as a couple at this point (another hc). This is set 1 year to 2 years after CK. The merchers know that Wylan + Jesper are friends with Kaz + Inej.

They arrive at the event with Wylan and Jesper, theres tons of high power figures, merchers, and the council. As soon as people realise Kaz and Inej have arrived, everyone's stares at them and then immediately turn their heads afraid of the wraith captain and dirtyhands wrath.

Inej links arms with Kaz, and she drags him to a quiet corner in the room away from people. She whispers to him that if they see someone that's a known part of the skin trade, it wouldn't be the most tragic thing of they lost a jewel or two. Inej walks off to go talk to Wylan and Jesper and Kaz thinks saints I love that woman

Inej finds Kaz sat in a chair, observing the people with what could possibly be a scheming face. She walks up to him and offers him her hand, and asks him to dance. Kaz thinks about saying know but then remembers what she said to him back at the Slat and answers yes.

They make it to the dance floor, but when the music starts, they realise that people are staring at them. Kaz feels Inej start to shake and whispers to her to follow his lead. This sacred Inej and made her think that he wanted to dance despite being watched by a whole room of people with faces full of digust. But she then she feels his hand holding firm to hers and sees that he's walking away she copies his pace, eager to get away from the crowds.

He takes her outside onto the stone walk in the backgarden and lets out sigh. He looks back at her, and the look he gives her brings her back to the moment, saints she loves her eyes (kanej eye loving, I couldn't resist). They stand there for a while just simply existing, holding onto each others hand.

A song suddenly comes on, and Kaz turns to her and asks her for this dance. She panics, thinking that he means to go back. But he lets go of her hand and stands a few metres away from her and holds his hand out. She realises that he means to dance here. She always wanted to dance with him but never thought she'd be able to, I mean, can you imagine seeing the bastard of the barrel dance? But since the heist she's seen the parts, he locked away, and they are each beautiful.

Inej takes his hand, and they fit in place as if they were made to fit each other perfectly. It turns out Kaz Brekker can dance, or maybe it's Kaz Rietveld that can dance, possibly both. It doesn't matter, though she loves Kaz no matter which surname or mask he holds.

She asks him how he knew to dance, and he tells the story of a miserable boy forced to dance lessons by his father, and how during boring mercher parties stakeouts he memorised the moves just to keep himself from boredom. Then he returns the question and asks how she knew the moves because he didn't think the suli had the same dances as the kerch, Inej thinks on that and decides that she must've learned the moves as well but her missteps during the dance can be covered up by her acrobatic reflexes, which causes Kaz to laugh and say that some of her missteps were in fact noticeable for which he got a well deserved arm swat and called a shevrati.

They dance for what feels like years when it was only a few dances, and Inej decides that as long as they are around these people, they'll never be able to be a normal couple. But for now, she's ok with that. She loves every moment of this unconventional relationship she shares with the man she will forever love, no matter how hard some of those moments can be.

Boom dance done. However, there could be another hc to this because I may have thought of another idea for this hc.... enjoy <3

[foxy-eva]

Soft & Sweet

Summary: A confession between JJ and Tara leads to a night full of soft and sweet moments

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Tara Lewis

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) drinking alcohol (responsibly), separation mention (Will & JJ), JJ struggles with her sexuality, implied homophobia, coming-out, kissing, fingering, oral

Author's Note: I wrote this for the Pride Writing Challenge hosted by @the-guilty-writer ! Happy Pride! I love women.

Word Count: 2.6k

Masterlist

Girl's night with the BAU ladies was a very important tradition for JJ. They could all forget about their professional demeanor for at least a couple of hours and show one another a softer side. Moments of light-hearted laughter and gossip seemed so rare in their line of work.

To her surprise, JJ didn't find all of her friends' familiar faces when she entered Tara's living room. Once she learned that Emily and Penelope had to cancel at the last second, her heartbeat got much louder than she'd expected. 

"Guess it's just gonna be the two of us tonight," Tara told JJ while pouring her a glass of her favorite white wine. 

Little did Tara know how much the prospect of being alone with her both excited and terrified JJ tremendously. As they both sat down on the couch, it became even harder for the blonde woman to relax. 

Tara noticed that, too. She brushed it off as some initial awkwardness between friends who had only ever hung out with each other when other people were present. It was the first time the two of them were alone with one another outside of work.

Tara pointed at the glass in JJ's hand and chuckled, "You better take a sip of that, you seem awfully tense tonight."

"Sorry," JJ apologized. "I just have a lot on my mind." 

Tara's facial features softened at her friend's words. She knew how hard leaving a marriage could be but she couldn't even begin to imagine how much more difficult that was when children were involved. 

"Are the boys with Will tonight?" 

JJ nodded, a shy smile visible on her face when she said, "They'll probably play video games all night."

Tara then asked the question her friend usually dreaded, "How are you holding up?" 

To her own surprise, JJ didn't need to lie when she answered, "I'm alright."

Those past few months had been complicated and difficult but slowly JJ was settling into her new life without Will as her partner. 

"Apparently Will started dating again and I'm actually happy for him."

"What about you?" Tara wanted to know. "An attractive woman like you surely gets asked out a lot."

A rosy shade spread over JJ's cheeks at the compliment. She thought about it for a moment but quickly realized that no man had caught her attention in a while. She struggled to be honest with herself but there was no denying how much she longed for something – someone – else. 

Shaking her head, she snickered, "I don't really feel like going out with men right now." 

Secretly she hoped that Tara would catch onto how that sentence was worded but she just joined JJ in her laughter and said, "You deserve a little break. Enjoy life as a single woman!" 

It wasn't the first time JJ had managed to control herself enough to deceive the best profilers in the country but this time she really hoped that Tara would see right through her. She didn't, though. 

There was a lot of gossip shared between the two women as the night went on. JJ managed to lock her feelings away for just a little while longer. However, each time she brought her glass to her lips she couldn't help but think about how much she yearned to feel Tara's skin against them instead.

She was far from being drunk after the first glass of wine was empty but she still felt intoxicated by Tara's presence. JJ wondered how often she'd have to drop her sight to the other woman's lips until she would catch onto it. 

After placing her glass on the coffee table JJ realized that just looking at Tara wouldn't be enough anymore. She felt like her heart might burst any moment now if she didn't bring to action what she had been so desperate to do for weeks. In a moment of comfortable silence between the two of them, JJ leaned closer to Tara and whispered her name. 

Right before their lips could touch, JJ felt a light pressure against her shoulders. Tara's palms were gentle but firm at the same time, pushing her away and denying her the sweetness JJ longed for. 

"JJ–," Tara whispered but was quickly interrupted.

"Sorry!" The blonde woman said as she leaned back again, leaving more distance between them than necessary. "It's just… you look so beautiful and your lips look so soft and…"

Tara reached out her hand to touch JJ's arm in an attempt to soothe her. It didn't work. 

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Tara told her. "I really like you, JJ. It's just that I have learned the hard way that it's not a good idea to hook up with straight girls."

JJ's chest felt heavier with each word being spoken. She got up from her place beside Tara to walk a few steps away, her eyes fixated on the floor as she tried to hinder the tears from spilling over her lashes. 

"I'm sorry," Tara softly spoke as she walked over to her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

JJ carefully thought about her words, restructuring sentences in her mind to make sure what she was about to say was the right thing. She already felt vulnerable, almost as if Tara was able to take a glance inside her chest to see how JJ's heart was beating just for her. 

"I come from a very small town in the middle of nowhere," JJ began, unable to lock eyes with Tara. "Traditions were very important and I still clearly remember how they used to talk about the people in the city. Dating boys was my only option, anything else was just a foreign concept that would definitely never apply to me."

She finally found Tara's eyes, who showed her the softest look she had ever seen. It encouraged JJ to keep going. 

"I was still so young when I got together with Will. I never really had a chance to explore this side of me, so I desperately tried to lock away. And even when my friendship with Emily got confusing all those years ago… I still couldn't admit the truth about myself." 

She took several deep breaths until a timid smile appeared on her face. She realized how safe she felt in that moment. She knew that Tara was the right person to trust with what she would say next. 

"Now that Will and I are separated I finally want to accept and explore… my queer side," she admitted and reached out to find Tara's hand. "And I'm sorry about before but… you're just so beautiful, Tara." 

Tara knew that they didn't need to have all the answers tonight when she stepped closer to JJ until hardly any distance could be found between the two of them. Her fingertips made contact with JJ's cheek and she almost got lost in the ocean that were her eyes. 

It felt like it was the first time Tara truly saw JJ. There was no more need to hide anything from one another as they stared at each other with open chests and hearts longing to find their counterpart. There was no need for words to be spoken for them to hear each other anyway. 

I have wanted this for so long. 

I have wanted you for so long. 

When Tara leaned down no force in this world could have held back JJ from capturing her lips. She felt the taller woman smile into the kiss, even more so when JJ swung her arms around Tara's neck to keep her in place. The kiss was tender but wild at the same time, both women displayed a hunger for each they had rarely experienced before. 

Kissing Tara felt like tasting the first droplets of water after a lifelong drought. It was revitalizing and exhilarating for JJ to feel Tara’s lips move against her own. When Tara deepened the kiss there was no way for JJ to hold back the quiet sigh escaping her throat. 

While Tara still cupped JJ's face, the blonde woman's hands became curious, almost greedy. She let her fingertips wander over Tara's sides and hips, firmly gripping the fabric of her clothes in an attempt to hold herself upright when her knees suddenly became so, so weak. 

Without ever really breaking contact, they walked over to Tara's bedroom. It was then that JJ's brain caught up with what was happening. She pulled back to find comfort in the warmth of Tara's irises. She had already noticed JJ's hesitation.

"We can slow down," Tara offered. 

JJ shook her head. "No, I want this. I'm just a little nervous."

With a smug grin painted over her face, Tara purred, "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

There was not a single doubt in JJ's mind that Tara would keep that promise. They took their time to help each other shed each piece of clothing until they stood in front of each other in only their underwear. 

Gently, Tara pushed her lover on the bed only to take a moment to let her eyes wander over her body. They lingered on the places that still held evidence of battles of the past and the miracle of bringing life into the world. Instinctively JJ tried to cover one particular scar on her stomach with her hand but Tara didn't allow that. 

She sat down beside her on the mattress to carefully remove her hand again. "You don't have to hide from me," Tara whispered. 

Tara's gentle fingertips traced the patch of calloused skin for a second before she lay down beside JJ. Their lips made contact once more and forgotten was any cruelness the past held for either of them. At least for tonight everything that mattered was showing each other how sweet and soft life could be. 

When JJ felt Tara's lips tracing along her neck, the first moan fell from her mouth. Her skin felt like it was on fire and could only be soothed by Tara's touch. She became eager to feel her against every inch of her body, hurriedly reaching behind her own back to open her bra and remove the fabric. 

Tara was in no mood to tease her, too mesmerizing was learning each of JJ's reactions to her touch. Once her breasts were revealed, Tara didn't waste any time to caress them. But licking and nipping on the sensitive skin of her chest quickly wasn't enough for her anymore. 

Tara was getting impatient to taste the honeyed wetness JJ had to offer between her thighs. She kissed down her stomach until she reached the seam of her panties. JJ became pliable under her touch and opened her legs to make room for her. 

Tara sat up between her legs and once again took a moment to admire the beauty of the woman lying before her. Her pupils almost swallowed the blue of her eyes and the rosy shade on her cheeks seemed to become darker by the second. When Tara's eyes wandered further down JJ's body, she noticed that her arousal had already soaked through the fabric of her panties.

JJ was yearning for her lover's touch, sure that she would combust if Tara waited just a second longer.

"Please…" JJ breathed to bring Tara back from her reverie.

"Sorry," Tara chuckled as she hooked her fingers under the waistband of the lacey fabric. "It's easy to get distracted when you look so pretty for me."

Once the piece of clothing was removed, Tara kissed along JJ's legs before finding her core. She was glistening with desire and looked so ready to be tasted. As she felt Tara's tongue collect the sweet evidence of desire that had gathered between her thighs, JJ's entire body began trembling. 

She dared to look down at the woman between her legs and almost lost her mind at the sight of Tara’s face buried against her center. Closing her eyes and leaning back was the safer option for now, JJ decided. Everything was already overwhelming, Tara's touch somehow being too much and not enough at the same time. 

"More," JJ whimpered and Tara understood. 

She found no resistance from JJ's body when she carefully let two of her fingers enter her. Just a few more moments passed until JJ finally found relief, the sounds of her ecstasy falling from her lips while her body pulsated around Tara's fingers. Tara helped her through her high before finding her place beside JJ once more. 

Tara kissed her lover’s cheek, certain that she had never seen JJ looking more beautiful than in that exact moment. That innocent gesture wasn't enough for either of them, their lips quickly finding each other once more. 

"You're still wearing too many clothes," JJ snickered as she reached around Tara's back to undo her bra. 

The remaining pieces of fabric were soon dropped to the floor, giving JJ unlimited access to Tara’s skin. Without ever breaking their kiss, JJ let her hands wander over Tara's body, eager to explore every curve and dip within reach. The softness she felt under her fingertips was not unlike the warm and fuzzy feeling filling her chest. 

When her hand descended further down Tara's body, JJ felt her pulling back from the kiss. 

"Do you not want this?" JJ softly asked. 

"No, I do want this. I just need you to know that you don't have to."

JJ smiled at Tara's words and breathed, "I know, but I really want to. I have thought about it for weeks." 

Tara couldn't help but open her legs for JJ at her words. JJ gladly accepted the offer, her hand finally making contact with Tara's heat. When JJ felt the wetness practically dripping from her core, she couldn't help but moan. 

She took her time exploring the silken skin, almost as if she was trying to memorize each of Tara's reactions to her touch. Her folds felt so delicate against JJ's fingertips, a sensation she wouldn't be able to forget anytime soon. When JJ focussed her attention on the little bud, Tara began singing her praise in the form of moans and sighs escaping her throat. 

Tara's palm made contact with JJ's hand, leading it towards her entrance. Timidly she let one finger glide into her, any hesitation quickly forgotten once she was certain that Tara was ready for their bodies to connect like this. Adding a second finger, JJ moved her hand against Tara's core, focussing on the feeling of being enveloped by her. 

Tara felt herself becoming greedy once more, unable to wait to experience JJ in the same way. Her hand made contact with JJ thigh while she purred, "I need to feel you."

JJ adjusted her position to make space for Tara's hand, gasping when she made contact with her still sensitive folds. There was no time to be wasted when Tara let her fingers enter JJ's body. They worked their hands against each other's cores while fervently kissing one another. 

Each moan was caught by the other's lips, only ever separating when the need for air got too overwhelming. They felt as if they might melt into each other as they chased their sweet relief. Together they entered a state of pure bliss, Tara falling over the edge just a few moments before JJ fell apart for the second time that evening. 

They found their home inside each other's arms with heaving chests and mouths gasping for air. It was as if time stood still as long as they held each other close, the erratic drums inside the other’s chest impossible to ignore. With gentle fingertips JJ drew random shapes on Tara's skin, smiling to herself when they morphed into little hearts. 

And for the first time in what felt forever, JJ could finally indulge in the sweetness life had to offer. 

If you liked this story you should check out my wlw Masterlist for more sapphic content!

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[gayofthefae]

Thinking about how crazy together is so meaningful because it isn't some romantic promise. It isn't just that, without context, "mad for each other" type "we'll go crazy together hypothetically".

It isn't hypothetical. The conversation that led them to that point is "I am scared I'm genuinely losing my mind because I become so immersed in my visions of monsters that I lose reality" "I am also scared that I'm losing my mind because I see people that aren't really there" "Hey, on the upside, maybe we can room together at Pennhurst Asylum"

Like that was the conversation. It was earnestly "our real life experiences and symptoms are making us actually worry about our sanity, let's promise not to tell anybody" and then Mike, loving in the way that he does, says "but it's some comfort knowing that, like everything, we're doing this together too"

And now I'm thinking about "I have no idea what's gonna happen next, but I think it'll be better if we work together. If we're a team. Friends. Best friends" and my other post about how if you look into it's kind of a version of "I want to jump into the abyss with you, I'll be less scared". It's also logistic, of course "us fighting won't help anything" but they had also already stopped fighting. So now I'm thinking about how, really, that's just a rephrasing of "Hey, well if we're both going crazy, at least we'll go crazy together, right?"

It's easy to isolate that line and think of it how it's used in other shows, more of a "hypothetically, we'll go crazy together", but in this, he was saying "this real thing that's happening is made better by you being here with me. I think we're gonna be okay."

And I sometimes read fanfics of it where it's more cavalier, but I feel like we need to remember that "craziness" was very stigmatized, just look at how they all treat Joyce's history with mental illness is season 1 - basically equating anxiety and depression as "only a matter of time before she fell into full delusion and hallucination". I don't think that they'll necessarily repeat it because it wasn't "let's go crazy together" it was "we are going crazy together". Without the real-time stakes to it, it doesn't mean the same thing so a callback would still be romantic but used in a different context, it would be different. It didn't mean "crazy together" like "let's take this supernatural risk together" or "hey, wanna do something crazy?"/"that was crazy of us!" They're using it as the stigmatized word that it is. They're using it with the weight that it holds.

It's closer, to me, to "Maybe I'm crazy! Maybe I'm out of my mind, but God help me, I will keep these lights up until the day I die if I think there is a chance that Will is still out there." - which makes sense with all the season 1 parallels between Mike and Joyce i.e. her seeing the lights vs him hearing the radio and everyone else is like "it's ok sweetie, we know you miss him"

I think the best subtext I can translate is what I already said: a lighthearted "Hey, well, at least maybe we can bunk together at Pennhurst."

edit: a better way to put it is I feel like it's this as opposed to how people usually treat as more of a "you die, I die"(-Dustin to Steve, s3)

[comorbidfascination]

Vincent: Second Chances

You and Nora return to Ambrose after almost six years, wondering at the eerie stillness.

warnings: nsfw, mutual masturbation

as always, please let me know if I have left out any relevant tags!

slasher masterlist here

The flooding from a particularly bad hurricane, coupled with the end of high school, made five years ago the time to leave Ambrose. You and Nora had remained in Louisiana, but the others were practically a world away. But college and new lives had come and gone. You were both aching to get back to your roots and see what had become of your tiny hometown. Technology hadn't been as advanced then, and so communication with the twins had been few and far between, but you were confident that Vincent was at least alive. Without cell phones, or even a stable landline connection, you mainly relied on letters; the last you had received from him was from almost two years prior. But the car was packed and Nora was fiddling with the radio in the passenger seat, just as nervous as you were to see what was left of Ambrose. 

You followed familiar gravel roads through overgrown woods to find the town just as empty as you expected. The windows were down and you sang at the top of your lungs to 90s punk songs that were only enjoyable if you shouted along with them. Your best friend gripped her cane and grimaced at the noise level. The old pickup rolled to a stop in front of the house you grew up in. The two of you got out to see if anyone was around, eventually ambling over to the convenience store.

"Hello? Anyone home?" You brushed your hair out of your face and fiddled with your hearing aid like you always did when your hands needed to be occupied. 

Nora sighed and poked her head into the back room, "Nobody. Let's try the museum."

"Good idea. If the boys are still here, that's where they'll be." Bo, Lester, and Vincent were set too deep in this town to be uprooted. Their mother's wax museum stood at attention in the middle of their little world, so if no one was home, Ambrose was truly empty.

As you both passed through the streets, there was an odd sense that nothing had changed. A few windows had lights on, but there was no one else outside. The whole place was holding its breath, but you couldn't tell yet whether it would blow you out or suck you in. The massive doors of the museum swung open readily, and you found solace in the quiet squeak of the floorboards. The knot in your gut reminded you of how long it had been since you'd talked to Vincent. Would he be happy to see you?

The thump of Nora's cane was muffled by how full each room was. There was nowhere for the sound to echo when wax people and furniture were displayed in every available space. You peered into the eyes of one statue, amazed at how detailed they were. Vincent had certainly surpassed his mother, though you didn't dare utter the idea in a place so haunted by her memory. She had died before you left, and the grief the brothers held even seeped into the letters you received from Vincent in the handful of years to come. In here, the feeling of another time preserved was heavier and achingly obvious.

The sharp bark of a dog made you both jump, and a blur of black and white zoomed into view. You immediately knelt down to pet it while Nora chuckled at the surprise. The pitbull wagged its whole backside as you rubbed its fur and cooed praise for being such a good guard dog. Your friend tapped your foot with her cane so you'd look up at the man in the doorway. Following the little sweetheart was the man you'd come to see in the first place. He had filled out some, but the same curtain of black hair fell over his mask as he froze in place at the sight of you.

"Hey, Vince. Long time no see." Your voice was gentle, as were your movements, when you stood to greet him properly. 

He didn't move, and Nora cleared her throat to say, "We would've called ahead if we had the number." She was more sore about the letters stopping than you were.

Eye flicking back and forth between the two ghosts of his past made flesh and blood, he choked out a sound like a punctured squeaky toy and bolted. For such a large, imposing man, he could really run when he wanted to.

You squawked indignantly, turning to Nora, who just shook her head. "Damn scaredy-cat. Might as well go up to the house to see if the others are still kickin'." 

Birdie had stayed with Lester, which didn't surprise anyone. When you opened the door, she gasped and crushed you both in a hug. "I've missed y'all so much!" She swung you back and forth before setting you back on solid ground. "Come in, come in!"

Ushered into the Sinclair family home, you marveled at how utterly identical it was to your memories. Bo shouted at Birdie for making a racket, freezing like his twin when he saw Nora. "Hey, mama."

She sighed with a smile and went over to hug him, setting her cane against the wall to do so. Those two had always understood actions more than words. You grinned when Bo finally got over himself and hugged her back. You glanced away when you heard Nore sniffle, looking for an easy exit, as she hated to be seen crying. Birdie gestured for you to follow her into the kitchen and whispered, "Les will be here tonight after his shift. Have you seen Vincent yet?"

You chuckled ruefully and rubbed the back of your neck. "Ran into him at the museum, but he wasn't in the mood for a reunion."

Your childhood friend frowned and led you over to the basement steps. "Well, he's in there. I hope you don't come up 'til he apologizes, at least. He ain't mad or anything, he's just..."

"He's Vincent. I get it." You patted her shoulder reassuringly and trotted down creaky steps to his studio. He definitely heard you, but remained half-hidden behind a nearly finished wax statue. You walked around it without hesitation. "Didn't think I was so scary. What's up with you?"

He huffed, strands of hair blowing away from his mask. With a few hand signs, he told you, 'Surprised, not scared.'

"Then why are you hidin' from me, angel?" 

Vincent took a moment to compose himself and signed, 'Don't know what else to do.' He had always been the type to run from his feelings, you supposed you should've expected this.

"No more of that, alright? I'm here to see you, y'know." You stepped even closer, daring him to look you in the eye. "Haven't been able to stop thinkin' about ya since I left. What's my Vincent been up to?" Hearing you call him yours made him just as flustered as it did years ago. He shrugged and gestured vaguely to the statue. You leaned in for a closer look, noting the incredible detail work of the eyes yet again. "It's amazing, angel. You've only gotten better." As you turned back, a flash of movement caught your attention. It almost seemed like the eyes had flickered, but it must have been a trick of the light. You'd rather look at Vincent anyway.

Noticing your double-take, he gently took your hand and led you to his bedroom next door. Unfortunately, the painting leaning on the wall was even more conspicuous. With a soft gasp, you rushed forward to admire your own likeness in loving brush strokes. "Do you still have the ones I did of you?" Your happiness was near blinding with the way you beamed.

Vincent nodded and gestured to the studio. 'Hanging up by my desk.' You would've had to turn to see them in the corner. And he kept it dark in there, too. He stepped forward when you faced him again, summoning the courage to relax in your presence.

You swung your arms around his neck and pulled him down to whisper, "Been getting off to me even when I'm not here, huh?" He froze, and you tightened your hold so he couldn't back away. "Making me wish I'd never left."

Vincent slowly placed his hands on your waist. He still wasn't over his fear of hurting you - the things he and his brothers had done in the interim only made his heart pound faster at the thought of you realizing how horrible he was.

As if you could feel his emotions radiating off of him, you leaned in to kiss his neck and murmur, "You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna show me what I been missing?" He choked out a whimper and gave you no other warning before he pushed you down on the bed. You sat up before he could do much else. "Easy, now. Don't get ahead of yourself - I wanna see what you were doing with just that painting in here first."

Vincent's fingers trembled as they undid his jeans and pushed them down with his boxers. He would do anything just then to hurry you toward touching him. A hiss left his lips when he took his aching cock in hand.

You leaned in to kiss his mask. "You keep it on for this?" He shook his head, but made no move to take it off. "Can I?"

His breathing was ragged under the wax and insecurity couldn't overpower the need to feel your lips on his skin. Vincent nodded and closed his eyes to focus on the sensation of your fingers delicately removing the mask and brushing his hair back. His own hand faltered on his cock. Looking straight at you without a barrier was more intimate than letting you see him masturbate. You cupped his face in your warm palms and littered it with kisses. Vincent whined and tried to kiss you back, but you weren't done with him yet. Your mouth descended upon his neck as you tugged at his sweater insistently. He took it off as quickly as possible and used the diversion to pull you into a more passionate kiss. Your hum of approval sent shockwaves down his spine.

When you had to break away for air, you took a moment to admire all of him laid bare just for you. "Gorgeous." You sat back against the wall and gestured at his lap. "Go on, now. I didn't tell you to stop."

His cock twitched at your command and drooled when Vincent started pumping it again. Touching himself had never felt so good. You took your time pulling off your own clothes, forcing him to stew in anticipation for every inch of supple skin. You sighed happily and sat back down to watch. He was panting with the effort of holding back, but he wanted to cum inside you, not all over his own hand. He gave you a pleading look and guided your fingers to touch his. You smiled sweetly, but the glint in your eye told him he wasn't getting what he wanted just yet. "Not this time, baby. You can pick where you cum next."

Vincent groaned, but kept dutifully pleasuring himself until he couldn't stop the impending orgasm. His cock wept over his hand to dribble onto the sheets. You used your shirt to wipe him off. "Oops. Guess I'll have to wear yours when we're done." Your smug grin was gone the second he pounced to pin your wrists to the bed. His body completely shadowed yours as he loomed over you. The grin replaced itself. "Your turn, handsome."

He wasted no time in hoisting your legs onto his hips, cock still plenty firm against his thigh. Vincent's eye held such adoration as he shoved roughly inside you. With a loud moan, you grabbed at his broad shoulders to pull him closer. He set a brutal pace as you gladly let your thoughts slip away; you wouldn't need them for a while. Feeling your pussy clench around his cock only made him want more, so he pushed your legs further and curled over your body. Thighs nearly touching your chest, you only got louder as the new angle found the perfect spot. You cried his name as everything went white. Seconds later, you returned to the world with Vincent still pistoning into your pussy like he'd never fuck you again.

"I'm not leaving, baby." Your slurred words did nothing to calm him, but rather made his desperation turn into excitement. You wanted him enough to stay in this ghost town - he had to make sure you'd never regret that decision. Vincent kissed your forehead and ground his hips into yours as he came undone. You rubbed at your clit fiercely and followed soon after. He kissed your lips again with enough tenderness to forgive the soreness that was beginning to set in. When he pulled out, you pointed to the cum dripping from your aching cunt. "Clean up your mess."

Vincent tilted your hips up so he could lean in and nip your inner thigh. You gathered his hair and held it out of the way as he mouthed at your lower lips and swirled his tongue around your sensitive clit. Soft sounds graced his ears from above as he lapped up all the evidence of his orgasm. When he was finished, you leaned down to drag him into another kiss, then moved over and patted the bed. "I'm ready for a nap. You wanna stay and cuddle?"

He laid at your side and wrapped himself around you, but you didn't mind the sticky feeling so much; he was worth it. Vincent stroked your back as footsteps clunked overhead. No one would bother the two of you down here. Especially not if they heard any part of your reunion.

[alessiathepirate]

Supernatural

A NIGHT IN MISSOULA: Nick x fem!reader

Summary: How it could've turned out if Nick wasn't completely alone...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

I had to fix his storyline damn it, he deserved so much better!

Warnings: set in season 14, fluff (come on, my man deserves it goddamn it), mentioned death and violence, grief

•••

Her phone's screen illuminated the motel room again, for the fifth time in the last hour.

She lazily raised her head to look at it before laying her head back on the man's chest whose arms were holding her close to his body, as if he was afraid that she'll just disappear. She hugged him tighter, as if to tell him that she'd never go anywhere when she already had him.

Two missed calls from Dean, one from Sam and two from Cas.

Cas and Dean even left voicemails. It was a wonder they haven't made Jody or Donna look for her yet.

"I forgot to check in." she mumbled quietly, afraid that her voice alone could ruin the calm moment they were having - moments like these occured rarely. Very rarely, especially since both of their minds were full of unsolved issues, confusing emotions and grief. "I'll have to call them or they'll get a heart attack and send some hunters after us."

"You'll call them later." Nick's fingers ran along her spine, drawing invisible shapes into her skin here and there. "Please."

She smiled up at him, her heart feeling heavy from his last word alone.

Please - please don't leave; please stay; please, I need you. She felt the same way toward him. She needed him just as much as he needed her - to not go insane, to not break, to be able to enjoy and appreciate the simple things in life.

"They can wait, I suppose." she agreed and let her fingers run along the side of Nick's face and jaw. "We're a long way from home anyway. They wouldn't reach us in time."

They left months, close to a year ago.

Nick wanted justice, he wanted to find the man who murdered his family - and since she had her own demons to fight, her own people to grieve, she knew exactly how he felt.

Nick left first and she followed him, only leaving a short letter behind for her own family, what said 'I found a job - it's personal. Be back soon. Love you all.'. That 'soon' turned into weeks, then months. And as it turned out they needed each other more than the boys needed her.

She reached Delaware just in time to stop Nick from beating the truth out of Arty Nielson - and used that fake FBI badge of hers to figure out what the man saw that night.

After that it went easily. She posed as an FBI agent while Nick stayed himself, and together they were tracking the culprit who turned out to be a demon. Abraxas. They'll get the fucker in Hibbing in a day or two.

Thanks to her presence, Nick managed to keep his cool. He managed to keep his sanity. He managed to realize that there's still someone out there who cares. He managed to slowly, painfully slowly, let go of Lucifer and accept the fact that he found someone to love - who apparently loved him back.

"Y/N?" she looked at him again with a questioning look. "I never really said thank you for what you did for me."

"Nick--" she wanted to begin to argue; wanting to say that he has absolutely nothing to thank - her love and care for him was purely natural.

"No, please let me finish." he interrupted her as his left hand started to play with her hair. "I mean it. Thank you for everything. I'm pretty sure that without you I would've gone crazy. And you didn't have to care or help, I wasn't your responsibility. Sarah and Teddy's case wasn't yours to solve either. But you were there for me, you're still here for me and I just--"

She gently touched his face again.

"You were there for me too, Nick." it was her turn to interrupt him and prove him that she cared. "When I was still grieving my best friend, you were there." her heart still ached when she or anyone referred to Gabriel. "When Jack got sick and I was thousands of miles away from the bunker, you were there. I wasn't your responsibility either, and you are still here for me too."

Nick smiled at her - with a honest smile, without any sadness behind it; with a smile full of adoration.

"I love you, Y/N..."

She felt her heartbeat quicken and it felt like she was having an honest to God heart attack.

They were spending the nights together for a month now, sure. They were even kissing, holding hands and cuddling. They complimented the other's appearance. But saying those three words? That was new, completely new. It was something she knew she was feeling, but was afraid to put into words when Nick was still clearly in a dark place. She thought it might've been too soon.

She let the words sink in - she let them make her heart flutter. She even let them bring tears to her eyes.

"I love you too, Nick."

She pushed herself up onto her elbows and leaned forward so her lips were able to reach his.

Nick was holding her face between his hands as the kiss deepened. It was sweet, slow, full of love - both of them wanted to show the other that they meant what they've said, wholeheartedly.

By the time they broke apart, her phone was ringing again, yet in their happiness they both ignored it.

"Promise me you won't leave me." Nick was begging, pleading as he looked her in the eye. "Please..."

"I won't. Ever." she promised as she smiled down at him. "I'll never leave you."

His fingers were playing with her hair again, when her phone's screen turned on once more. Another missed call.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?" he seemed distracted as he explored every small, hidden detail of her face - her cheeks turned pink from the thought of him finding her beautiful.

"After we're done..." she began slowly, unsurely. "Will you come back to Kansas with me? To say goodbye?"

Nick's hands stopped their exploration as he looked at her - really looked at her - to see if anything was wrong.

"Goodbye?" he asked, confused. "Why would you say goodbye? That place is your home, you're a hunter and--"

"I'm quitting." she stated and there was a strange feeling inside her stomach as she said her thoughts out loud. "Ever since I met Dean I wanted to hunt and live the life he and his family had, but it takes so much... I love the boys and Cas and Jack, but I can't do it anymore." she smiled when Nick started to stroke her side in comfort. "You're my last case. And I want to enjoy the aftermath forever."

The truth was that she couldn't afford losing anyone else. She was sure she wouldn't survive that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." she let out a small laugh. "And maybe we can have that 'apple pie life' close to the bunker in case those morons still need my help."

Nick kissed her again, this time with love and passion, and she gladly kissed back. Her hands disappeared in his hair and she was about to leave some of her marks behind on the side of his neck, when her phone began to ring again.

"Talk to them." he said after they unwillingly broke apart. "I'm not going anywhere."

She grabbed her phone with a groan and accepted Cas' call as she lay down next to Nick, grabbing his hand and drawing invisible shapes into his palm.

"Hey, Cas. Sorry I didn't pick up before, I was in the middle of something just now. Is everything okay?"

She was barely listening.

All she could think about was her last case and the man she was willing to give up hunting for.

And she really hoped her found family will accept her decision without wanting to beat the crap out of the man she loved...

[star--nymph]

look man you can do whatever you want with Inquisitions narrative all you want but the fact that it leans perfectly into the dehumanization of worship and becoming a symbol is perfect for Eurydice, who has been an object all her life

the constant unpredictability of her father, calling her his 'jewel' one second and his 'empty thing' the next, either a object of pride or abuse, but either way always an object, a thing, a mistake, a piece of a beautiful, broken piece of property 

the rejection by the clan that refused to see her parents for her they were and therefore refused to see her as a full child or person--just a strange bird at best, a troublemaker, creepy, cold, cruel, damaged, dangerous, a shadow to gawk at and level suspicious glares at, because Lycus and Ismene speak of the trouble with that one, that one causes them such headaches, that one's eyes are off, that one must be as dull as she looks, it's a shame to her parent's names, but at least that one is beautiful. At least she's nice to look at occasionally.

being placed in the position of the First despite the discontent in the clan, robotically going through the motions for duty's sake because duty is all she has, loyalty to the clan, to her family, to her Keeper, that if she performs right, there will be a nod of approval, she will be liked, left alone to her own devices, maybe even understood, but it never comes. She is a good student but a poor First--they whisper to each other that they hope a mage is born among them soon, or they must go to another clan for a new one. Can't have that one be the Keeper. Deshanna is mad and blinded by her own affection. She can't see what that is.

she leaves, for duty, she gets a taste of personhood for a few months, she wanders the world and feels an identity being grown past daughter, sister, mage, first, jewel, thing--

and then conclave explodes and the shemlings capture her, the imprison, they worship her, and they crown her

and she's only a fully realized person to a few of them--and even then there's a habit of them still trying to dehumanization her for the sake of the Inquisition as an agenda--Sera talks about the little people and how Eury can't forget about them, but she has issues seeing Eurydice past her position as "elfy" or "Inky. Vivienne, Mother Giselle, and Varric struggle between Eurydice the Inquisitor and Eurydice the Person; they both recognize that her personhood doesn't matter here, as much as it should. Eurydice as a person can't survive against the persona of the Inquisitor and as much they both want to tell her to save herself, in order for the Inquisition to prosper, she can't BE an individual, she has to be a commodity that keeps the world captivated. Something akin to a holy relic. 

Cassandra and on a lesser note, Leliana, are almost desperate for Eurydice to be a prophet despite her denying that every breath she takes. Them looking at her, an elf with God's of her own, having to live with the possibility that the Maker choose her doesn't work with what they know, what they want, but they'll make it work. It's why Cassandra asks Eurydice "Is there no room in your pantheon for one more god" because yes Cassandra IS tossing aside Eurydice's own beliefs because in the chantry's eyes, the elven pantheon doesn't matter but also it's not even about that for Cassandra. It's about HER comfort, HER faith, her need for Eurydice to take on the role as a Herald in a specific way to justify her faith

and Solas? Solas watches on and I think stays, at least in part, because he knows what he just sacrificed in Eurydice's name. She may not have died at the Conclave, but he killed her in a way. It may have been what was done to him all those years ago, when the rebels made him into the Dread Wolf and had his own name forgotten to time and dreams. Gods aren't people. They are beyond such things.

and Eurydice lives with it, stripped down every second of every day when they call her: Inquisitor, Herald, Your Worship, Lady Lavellan, The Banshee, Witch, The First, Jewel, Thing. What is she if not a doll, one posed this way and that for the will of an society that is just waiting to chop off her ears and portray her as human?

and when someone uses her name and sees Eurydice as a thinking, breathing person, her first instinct is to think she must have tricked them

because if everyone else only saw her as a thing, then it must be true, right?

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Kind of obsessed with the idea of Price having an older daughter, like 16/17. She might be the result of a one-night stand or just an older relationship that fell apart. They aren't the closest because he's gone so often but when he's around he tries so hard. Idk here are some thoughts/headcanon things. S/O to @yeyinde for the Price brain worms.

She has a very classic older name like Agatha, Lucy, Eloise, or Evelyn. He was a little hurt when she started going by a nickname but wouldn't refer to her as anything else.

She lives pretty much full-time with her mum. He tries to see her when he's home while she's in school but they mostly see each other during the summer when she goes to stay with him.

He was terrified of being a dad at first. He was fully dedicated to his military career and was regrettably hands-off the first couple of years. He's trying to make up for all the lost time.

Gaz was the first and only 141 members to know about her for several years.

Until one night Price got the whole task for out for a drink at the pub.

She accidentally bumped into Gaz and spilled a pint over both of them in shock. He tried to sneak her out before Price saw but he did.

He was angry but also didn't want to embarrass her by yelling in front of her friends or his men.

He did drive her home and take her fake id though.

They go clay shooting a lot. She's actually really good at it and it worries him a little.

He never talks about work. She barely knows what he actually does. He wants a clear divide between work and home life.

Brings her gifts and souvenirs whenever he can. She has a lot of trinkets from Urzikstan.

When he's home they're both homebodies. They'll cook dinner together and watch movies.

Tries to do weekly video calls when he’s deployed but it doesn’t always work out. Will text whenever he can

He wants another kid and to settle down but he still feels guilty about not being there for her as a kid. He doesn't want to make her feel like he's replacing her.

Kinda hates her taste in music but will take her to whatever concert she wants, especially if he can stand in the back and have a pint.

They take day trips every other week in the summer. There’s a photo album in his office that’s just photos of the two of them, and the one time Gaz tagged along.

Got Gaz and Soap to follow her on a date once. He called them back when she texted him a photo of the two of them looking very suspicious down the street. Ghost has refused.

Never yells. He’s gotten frustrated and angry but never wants her to feel like she can’t talk to him.

Moved into a new flat just so she could have her own room.

They have matching beanies and jackets.

She makes him use Snapchat and tik Tok filters all the time.

He doesn’t carry a photo of her out of fear but got her initials and her favorite stuffed rabbit from childhood tattooed on his arm.

“You made it seem like I died.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I do but people are going to think I died.”

She can do the hard stare. She used it on Gaz and Soap when she caught them following her.

She doesn’t resent him like he thinks she does. She’s just glad he’s around and he can be pretty cool sometimes.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Hi, me again. Was laughing about the lego minifig lumberjack that suspiciously is wearing the same outfit as the lego minifig werewolf and it resulted in me having the most unhinged thoughts about Supernatural. Again.

Once again my brain is overcompensating for how badly I enjoyed S1-3 and how little I enjoyed season 4 onwards.

Now I have gone on record as being someone who generally prefers the non-comedy episodes of the early seasons (HOWEVER a good comedy episode goes a long way in a dark and gritty series as a refreshing break. I love a sensible chuckle. Look at me.) but hear me out. But for your consideration:

You know the drill. Small town, missing people or animal attack reports, maybe both. Shady shit going on. They're not sure if it's worth the time but they were nearby, or Bobby reckoned it was worth checking out so they swing through town, figure they'll stay a few nights. The place is pretty, out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods. Picturesque and the people are nice. Maybe they could relax a few days while also sussing it out.

They can't immediately determine the cause, which is strange. There's always signs that they can equate to being this or that and "dad's journal" always has an answer. Almost always.

One of them goes out for a late night wander (probably Dean, look I'm predictable, but also it feels fitting - Sam got the demon blood ok) and gets attacked by something in the forest, and returns with a really weird bite mark that looks somewhere between canine and human. There's a bit of panic, yknow "What did it look like?" - "It looked like a werewolf! No not like, a werewolf, like a movie werewolf!"

And they're both freaked because there's a handful of horrible fucked up things that could be, and for most of them a bite is just a normal physical injury and the worst thing he'd have to worry about is rabies - but they test press a silver knife to his skin and.... Nothing. They try a few other on-hand items if they have them, probably some herbs and dried flowers, nothing. So they assume the bite's just. An animal bite.

Fast forward after one very tense day of research and uncomfortable vibes, and the sun goes down. And that's when things go to shit. It's not a full moon, which catches them off guard. Dean starts convulsing and twitching on the motel room floor and Sam is fucking panicking, searching for one of those curse-bag's that witches hide when they want to kill you. Dean has one nasty, gritty, panful transformation into something absolutely horrifying - going for my personal favorite - vaguely resembles human but very much weird wolf-man freak. He keeps his clothes but probably tears them up a bit as he's writhing about in pain. Sam is in shock, holding a machete out in defense trying to gauge the situation, Dean comes to and is just looking around in terror and confusion.

Probably have a stare-off before Sam just goes "... Dean???" and the poor guy cannot talk, can only make horrible throat noises, stumbles into the bathroom to get a look in the mirror and probably freaks out bad. Either bolts out the window in a panic, or bolts out the window cause he heard someone knock on the door hearing the noise of it all.

It's like the wishing well - so its some weird curse or local effect that's making a legend with its own rules become real - werewolves transform each night when the sun sets. There's something about racing against the literal setting sun that tickles me, and the added impact of it being something that requires management and mitigation each day is really fun.

So they have a shitty little time in this weird ass town trying to figure out; what's going on, how do we stop it, and arguing over if they call Bobby and tell him what happened or not.