#which will mess with even good snow drivers

[rulesforthedance]

Actually attempted a run this morning, but it was too icy--even in my trail shoes, I was slipping a little with every step (even just walking), and I don’t have spikes or yaktrax, so I turned back after a block, and then slipped more dramatically in my parking lot and fell over. The ice is THICK and slick and solid (...I know) and it’s supposed to just get worse until Monday, as each afternoon gets a little above freezing and melts some of the snow and then it freezes into a new layer of ice at night. So the uhhhh reset or whatever this is continues

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-six

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 7.3k (WOAH)

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: sorry i made you guys wait so long for this omg!! i have been booked and busy this week but we are so back :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

It's your first day of university, and you don't know if you're more excited or terrified.

It was the beginning of the rest of your life, which is thrilling considering just two months ago you thought you had days left to live. At the same time, though, you knew no one here besides Coryo and Sej, and you didn't share a single class with either of them.

But, staying positive was a must. It would only be a few hours away from them, and you had planned to meet up for lunch with Coryo between your classes, since he had found some for you that started and ended at the same time as his. While you drape your scarf over your shoulders and tuck both ends around the belt at your waist, you smile to yourself. You take a last look in the mirror, to double-confirm that you like the look of the scarf worn that way over your white dress and when you're satisfied you grab your bag and leave your room. Of course, Tybalt is right on your heels.

Walking down the hall, you can hear their grandmother singing the national anthem in the other room, as she always does. You've never loved the anthem or what it stood for, but starting your morning hearing singing is nice nonetheless. Even if the woman who started her mornings with song had decided just to completely pretend you didn't exist, ignoring you at every turn. "Good morning!" You smile as you enter the dining room, Tigris and Coryo already sitting to eat.

"Morning." They both smile at you at the same time as you drop your bag down, sitting next to Coryo. "Are you excited?" Tigris asks as you reach for some apple slices. There are more fancy pastries spread out on the tray as well, but you'd much rather stick to fruit in the morning.

"I am." You grin, biting the slice in half. "A little nervous, though. I must admit."

"You don't need to be nervous." Coryo tells you, and his smile does relax you. But you know he doesn't understand. "I'll walk you to your classes, and I'll see you during our break. It'll be easy and you'll adjust very quickly."

"Aren't you nervous?" You ask, picking up your cup of tea and taking a sip. "It's your first day too."

"Not really." He shrugs, reaching up to mess with his hair. It had only been a few weeks since he cut it, but it was growing back rather quickly. "More excited."

"Oh, well, I'm excited for you too." You hum, taking another bite of your apple and smiling as he pats your leg under the table.

Pulling up to the campus after Coryo insisted that their driver take the two of you, you notice immediately that there were tons more people. Most were people around your age, which you expected. You wonder how many of them are Coryo's other friends, it would be nice to make more friends here. Just like the games. You find yourself thinking. "Safety in numbers", is what Coryo had told you. You needed allies here.

"There's a lot of people." You comment as the car comes to a stop, and Coryo gently squeezes you with the arm he has over your shoulder in the backseat, still shielded by the tinted windows.

"Yes, just stay close to me." He tells you, kissing your cheek. You nod and push the door open, thanking the driver quickly as you climb out with Coryo on your heels.

It's obvious to him almost immediately that you don't fit in. While there isn't a uniform like there was in the academy, he was still wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt- which seemed to be on par with the level of dress all the other students were donning. Mentally, he curses himself for not thinking of that. It didn't even cross his mind- all that did was that you looked beautiful. More done up than he'd ever seen you, and you don't look insecure about it, at least not immediately. Outside of what he can discern of just average nervousness as you seem to shrink in on yourself while you look out over as much of the campus as you can see.

"So, your class starts in twenty-five minutes. Usually, it's a good idea to get there early, that's what I've heard anyway." He tells you as he starts walking down the path toward the doors, and you follow quickly after him.

"How long does it take to get there?" You ask as you catch up, holding onto your bag over your shoulder.

"You tell me." He smirks, jutting out his elbow to gently nudge you. "I have you the tour, where are we going?"

"Oh." You laugh, looking around. "It looks a lot different now. Probably... ten minutes to get to the arts building?"

"About that, yeah." He nods. "In no time you won't need me anymore."

As you approach the entrance to the main building, it doesn't go unnoticed by him that you're being stared at. No doubt every other student here recognizes you, it would be jarring to see a tribute walking among them at school. Let alone be in a class with them. He wonders if they'd feel unsafe with you- he knows he would have without knowing you.

Not necessarily unsafe, considering even watching the games anyone could tell you wouldn't hurt a fly, but... uneasy, is a more accurate descriptor. It even begins to pool in his own stomach, growing more as you link your arm with his. They weren't just staring at you. They were staring at him, too.

"I'll always need you, I'm sure." You giggle, squeezing his arm.

He can practically hear all of their whispers now.

'Is that Coriolanus Snow? That District girl is all over him.'

'She's probably going to give him rabies or some other gross District plague. I won't be surprised if he starts a Monkey Pox outbreak.'

'I heard him and Sejanus Plinth went to District Twelve just for her. They probably came back half animal- no wonder he sees nothing wrong with this.'

Suddenly, he does. Your hold on him, while friendly, feels so sickeningly isolating. He pulls his arm from yours with the excuse of rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while he speaks to you. "Well, we may not always have aligning classes."

"That's true, I suppose." You agree. "An awful shame though, I'll miss being able to have lunch together."

He just hums in agreement, picking up his pace as you move through the halls and out the back exit to be able to access the art building.

"This is you." Coryo says as he stops outside the door to a lecture hall, looking inside briefly before turning his attention to you. There were a few students already inside, reading or organizing their notebooks.

"Oh, thank you." You smile at him. He didn't have much to say on the walk to your class, but you sum that up to him being in a hurry to get to his own. The art building was certainly out of his way, if you remember where all his classes were supposed to be.

"You're welcome." He says, making an effort to match your smile. He could only really focus on the stares you were getting from people walking past, making wide circles around you. You don't seem to notice as you look up at him. "I'll come back to get you after class, so just wait for me, okay?"

"I'll wait right here." You nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head against his chest. "I'll miss you, though."

You feel him tense up under you, and he awkwardly pats your back. You don't clue in until you hear gasps and whispering. You quickly take a step back, cheeks red.

Coryo chuckles nervously. "It's alright, uh..." He leans down to whisper to you. "They're just strict about that kind of stuff here. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." You reply, looking around and smiling apologetically at the few people still staring as they walk past.

"I should have told you, that's my fault." He admits, standing up straight before leaning down to talk to you again. "Good luck in your class. I love you, and I'll see you for lunch." He whispers and is satisfied when that brings your normal smile back.

"I love you too." You whisper back, and he grins, giving you a quick nod. "See you later."

You wave as he walks away, and you take a deep breath before walking into the lecture hall.

Now, you're presented with your second big problem of the day. Figuring out where to sit.

You scan the room quickly, deciding the easiest would be the front or second row. There were a few students already sitting down there, and one girl who was sitting alone. She had blonde hair, and red lipstick that you think would match Coryo's coat that he sometimes wears quite nicely. She looked nice.

You smile as you make your way over to the front row, sliding into the seat next to her. "Hi! My name is Y/N, what's-" You whisper, wanting to stay quiet in the already silent room and before you even finish your question she's shoving things in her bag and getting up. "Oh." You frown, looking around as she quickly moves to a different seat. The shuffle caused everyone who wasn't already looking to stare at you, so you just quickly turned to face the front.

You didn't mean to scare her off, you just thought she might want a friend if she was sitting alone, and you definitely wanted one. She didn't even look at you for more than a second.

You quietly pull the notebook Coryo had given you out of your bag, placing it on the table in front of you and looking up at the clock. There were still fifteen or so minutes until your class would start, so surely by then, someone would sit next to you.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. By the time the man you assumed was your professor entered, every other seat was taken besides the ones next to you. And behind you. There was this glaringly uncomfortable circle of emptiness surrounding you right at the front of the room. It was mildly embarrassing, but at least you didn't have to see everyone staring at you since almost everyone was behind you. But you still had the afternoon class, and the rest of the year to let people warm up to you. It would be okay.

"Okay, I hope everyone is here." Your gaze follows your professor as he shuts and locks the door. "If you're late, that's too bad. I expect everyone to be on time. This door will be locked at nine on the dot. For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Dr. Nero."

You sit up straighter in your seat. He looks young, probably only ten or so years your senior with well-trimmed but present facial hair and a semi-casual suit. He must be relatively new to the position, and clearly, he took it very seriously.

"Alright, the department wants us to do icebreakers, so we'll get it over quickly. When I call your name on the attendance, tell us something about yourself and what your career goal is."

Shoot. You definitely didn't have any solid plans yet.

As he goes through the list, you wrack your brain for an answer. What did you want to do? Nothing specific. Maybe you'd write a book, maybe open a daycare back home where parents could leave their young ones with you by donation while they went to work. Maybe you'd be back at the library, but you really wanted to do something good with your education. You make a mental note to ask Coryo during lunch what kind of career you can have with a literature degree.

You look around, trying to remember as many names as you can as the other students answer.

"Teacher", "Artist", "Museum Curator", "Gamemaker".

Your eyes are still locked on the student who said that, a boy with dark hair and brown eyes. His name was Cancor Crane, if you remember what the professor had just called out correctly, and he was staring back at you. He was staring at you with such a vile expression that it looked like he wanted to gut you. A chill goes down your spine.

Then your name is called. You turn quickly, smiling nervously. "Hi..." You say, clearing your throat of the dryness that overtook it. "So, my name is Y/N... something about myself is that I have a cat, his name is Tybalt. Um, because my favourite book is Romeo and Juliet." You look around, then quickly back to your desk. "And I am not sure about my career, in all honesty. Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door." You shrug, smiling hopefully at him.

"Interesting." Your professor says, tilting his head at you and leaning back against his desk. "I expected your fact to be that you're a Victor."

"I- well, yes. I am." You reply nervously, twisting your pencil in between your fingers.

He hums. "Congratulations."

Congratulations on being the only one to walk away with your life.

"Thank you." You settle on, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I've never taught a Victor before. This should be an interesting class for all of us."

You took as many notes as you could through the syllabus overview and first lecture. You were pretty pleased with yourself, everything looked organized and you felt prepared for the rest of the course- besides the textbooks that you needed to pick up. Another thing to ask Coryo about.

You don't see him at the door yet, after all, he had to walk all the way back from his class to yours and if he was let out at the same time he should be here in about ten minutes.

"Miss Y/L/N, do you mind staying for a moment?" Dr. Nero asks as the lecture hall steadily clears out. "I'd like to chat with you."

You quickly gather your things, making your way over to his desk at the front centre of the large room.

"Dr. Nero." You smile, bag tucked under your arm. "I really enjoyed today's class. I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester."

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything else, and you're left wondering what he wanted you to stay for. "I just need to get my textbooks, but I have the list that you gave us so I'll see if I can grab them this afternoon. I'll have them for Wednesday." You say, just wanting to fill the silence.

"Good." He nods, leaning back against his desk and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I watched your games. When they told me that you enrolled in my class, I was immediately intrigued."

"Oh." What are you supposed to say to that? He watched you at your literal worst, that doesn't make you feel very comfortable at all.

"In a good way, I assure you." He says, sensing your nerves. "I feel as though you know more about English literature than anyone in this city. Maybe even more than me."

"I wouldn't say that..." You chuckle nervously. "I just like reading."

"Yes. With an unprecedented level of comprehension for a District-born child."

You want to scowl and argue with him about how the opinions of the Capitol citizens are based on nothing but their own superiority complex fuelled by their win in one war that cost the lives of many, but instead, you just smile and nod. "Thank you, Sir."

"Although, tributes are not given much of a chance to prove that they are more than animals when they are treated as such from the moment they arrive until the moment they die, wouldn't you agree?"

You tilt your head at him. His motivations and opinions are suddenly unclear and confusing to you. "Yes... I-I would."

"Well, I hope to learn more about your experience while we get to know each other." He tells you. "Thank you for coming."

"Yes, thank you." You say quietly, looking toward the door. "I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Yes, good luck in the rest of your classes." He nods to you, and you take that as your dismissal and head to the door. You would just have to wait for Coryo in the hall.

You wouldn't have to wait long, considering he was already there, right where he had left you earlier.

"Hi!" You smile, waving at him but being mindful of keeping your distance.

"Hello." He grins, already starting down the hall as you join his side.

"How was your class?" You ask excitedly.

"Good." He shrugs. "What about yours? That's what I'm more concerned about."

"It was good!" You smile. "I mean, I tried to talk to people but everyone was pretty quiet. And the Professor was nice. I think. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I'm a 'Victor'." You accentuate your point with finger quotations, bouncing between looking up at him beside you and ahead of you to make sure you don't walk into anyone. They seem to be keeping their distance, though.

"Of course he is." Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "But that's what we want. He may favour you, so go along with it."

"Oh, okay."

Tigris was nice enough to pack you both lunch for the day, yours consisting mainly of fruit. Something you have noticed over the last couple of weeks you've been here is that some of the food scares you- which is something you never thought of. If you can't somewhat accurately identify what it is just by looking at it, you're tempted to steer clear. Coryo insists you'll "get used to it", something he tells you daily about a wide variety of things, but Tigris doesn't mind packing you fruit for lunch or meals you don't help prepare yourself, which you appreciate.

Even for a September day, the sun is beaming down on the courtyard so you decided to eat outside. After all, Coryo says the weather won't be this nice all winter. You rarely got snow in Twelve, so you were excited for the holidays. Secretly, you hoped you could go home for Christmas.

"It's a beautiful day today." You comment, taking a bite of the fresh strawberry you pulled from your lunch container. The strawberries here were something that shocked you as well- they were bigger than the homegrown ones back home. Not nearly as sweet, though.

"It is." Coryo nods, leaning back on his palms in the grass. "Do you like it here so far?" He asks, squinting from the sun as he looks over at you.

"I mean, I've only had one class as you know, but so far it's great." You grin. "I'm excited to actually dive into the readings and such."

"I mean, like, in general." He chuckles. "Also, I have never heard anyone ever say they were excited about homework."

"A precious, mouldering pleasure it is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege I think." You shrug, smiling at him as you place the rest of the strawberry on your tongue.

Coryo scrunches up his nose in disgust while you chew. "You eat the leaves?"

Quickly, you're covering your mouth with your hand to speak. "You don't?" You ask, voice slightly muffled with the slightly sour fruit on your tongue.

"No!" He laughs, shaking his head.

You swallow what remains of the strawberry in your mouth, preparing to defend yourself when you hear someone call his name. You both turn, and your eyes land on a girl with long, dark hair as she walks toward you. With the shoes she's wearing, she only slightly struggles on the grass.

"Clemmie." He smiles, quickly standing up. You follow suit, brushing the stray blades of grass off of your legs and dress while he gives her a hug. A hug? That must be allowed outdoors. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Yeah, well, they let me out of my cage for the occasion." She replies sarcastically. She must be hot, wearing a white turtle neck in this heat. Then she looks at you, lifting up her dark sunglasses and resting them in her hair.

She has the eyes of a snake.

You're in shock for a moment, but you quickly recover. "Hello, my name is Y/N. Are you a friend of Coryo's?" You ask, extending your hand to shake. You were just happy to possibly be making friends.

She doesn't take it, something you're used to by now. "Yes, we've known each other our whole lives." She answers, looking down at your hand as you slowly lower it back to your side.

"Y/N, this is Clemensia Dovecote." Coryo says, deciding to introduce you properly, since his classmate didn't want to oblige. "She was a mentor as well."

"Oh, congratulations." You grin, biting back the sickness you felt suddenly bubbling in your stomach. "From what I have heard, even being selected for the opportunity is a large accomplishment. You must be proud."

"Yeah, well, I'd certainly be happier if my tribute won." She shrugs.

"Clemmie-" Coryo hisses at her, and she looks momentarily horrified at her own statement.

You look down, nodding slightly with a nervous smile. "It's okay." You insist, laughing slightly and pretending to readjust your scarf and tighten it around the belt.

"I didn't... Not like that. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly after Coryo had jumped to your defense.

"No, it's alright. I understand." You tell her again, attempting a reassuring smile. "Would... would you like to eat lunch with us?"

"I have to get going, actually." Clemensia replies, looking between the two of you. "I was just on my way to my next class and thought I'd stop to say hi. It was nice to meet you, Y/N."

"You too." You grin, and she nods at you before walking away.

Your eyes stay trained on her as she crosses the courtyard, and Coryo is once again close enough to speak to you quietly so no one else would hear. "I'm so sorry, she didn't mean it like that."

"No, I know." You insist again, already sitting back down. "It's okay." You smile up at him, patting the patch of grass next to you so he would join you.

"She was supposed to be Reaper's mentor." He tells you as he rejoins you on the ground. "But... something happened before the games. She couldn't participate."

"Oh."

He moves closer. "Do you remember that day we went to tour the arena?" He asks and you nod. "And I was late, and you asked me what was wrong, and I told you nothing?"

You do remember that, and you never got answers, but you remember being worried it was your fault. You almost kissed him the night before, and you had made things weird when he just came to do something nice for you; bringing you a book and some birthday cake. You felt horrible. "Yes, I thought I had done something."

"You? No." He quickly shakes his head. "We had to write a proposal for Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, about things that could be done to "improve" the games. Like the bets, donations, sending food, and when we were speaking with her Clemmie got bit by one of the snakes."

You gasp, covering your mouth. He looks around, making sure no one is paying attention. Yes, people were staring, but no one would get close enough to be able to overhear.

"I thought she was dead, but they sent me straight to the arena to meet you." He explains. "And like she said, we've been friends forever so I was... quite upset."

"That's horrible." You frown, resisting the urge to reach for his hand as it sits on his lap next to you.

"Yeah." He agrees quietly. "But I saw her in the hospital after the bombing, she was alive but... different. Crazy."

"Her eyes?" You ask and he nods.

"And she was hallucinating, they wouldn't let anyone see her except me because I was there. She was angry with me because I didn't visit her enough."

"Survivors guilt." You smile sympathetically. It was a feeling you knew all too well.

"That's why she's wearing that shirt." He whispers, nodding to her just as she enters the building ahead of you. "She's got scales."

You cringe at the mere idea of it.

"I know." He laughs slightly. He doesn't look away from his hands in his lap, and while you can see he's smiling and laughing, it's doing little to convince you that he isn't upset. "It was kind of my fault, though."

There it is.

"No, most certainly not." You frown. You just want to hold his hand, surely you won't be caught if you do. You were outside, just for a moment isn't likely to get you in trouble. Especially if he was just hugging Clemensia. "Why do you say that?" You ask, settling instead for resting a hand on his arm.

"I... It's difficult to explain." He tells you, and you say nothing, willing him to continue. "So, our proposal was in the tank. Dr. Gaul told us if the snakes knew your scent, they wouldn't bite. But I wrote the paper, not her, and she made Clemmie reach into their tank and pull it out."

"That's not your fault." You tell him, gently squeezing his forearm.

"I should have stopped her. She would have hated me for telling them she didn't help write it, but none of that would have happened."

"Well, she's okay, isn't she?" You smile hopefully.

"Yes, but she just as easily could have died." He insists. "The only thing that makes me feel slightly better about it is that in a way, she saved you."

You cock your head at him, mouth falling open in astonishment. "I... what?"

He looks up from his lap to check your surroundings again.

"I put the letter you wrote to me into the tank." He whispers, and you have to lean in to hear it. "Because I knew if they knew your scent they wouldn't hurt you."

"You... never told me that." You state the obvious, retreating your hand back into your own lap. Part of you wishes he hadn't done that. They didn't quite catch you getting up into the rafters, his warning had been enough, but you should have walked to your death the following morning when you climbed down and found the note in the first place.

"I just... I don't know, I thought it would be worth more if it stayed a secret. I didn't want you to feel... indebted to me, or something." He admits. "But I'm still trying that thing where I tell you everything I'm thinking. Especially about this stuff."

You nod, putting your focus on picking pieces of grass at your side. "Thank you."

"Please don't thank me." He frowns. "I told you. I had to. I knew I loved you even then, Y/N/N."

You give your head a quick shake, already sensing the spiral it was about to fall down. "Let's not speak about this here." You mumble. "Please."

Immediately, Coryo understands. "Of course." He watches you run your fingers through the grass slowly, and realizes quickly that you are counting them. Now was not the time or place for another attack, and he felt foolish for even bringing the topic of the games up. "What books do you need?" He asks, hoping to get you in better spirits. "Anything that looks good? You said you were excited for the readings."

Your lunch doesn't feel like it lasts long enough, even though you had an hour and a half between your classes. Once you got to talking about your books, the time seemed to fly by and Coryo agreed to take you to the bookstore on campus the following afternoon so you could get all your books at once. He had a few to get as well.

He walked you to your next class, a few floors up in the same building and this time you were mindful to not hug him goodbye. He told you he loved you, very quietly, and you said you loved him too before entering the room. Another lecture hall, slightly smaller than the last one.

You mentally prepare yourself to play this game again. Where to sit, and preferably, finding someone willing to sit next to you. Looking around, you see a couple of girls in the middle of the room chatting away. They looked nice enough.

Preparing your smile as you walk up, you slide into the seat next to them. "Hi there, my name is Y/N." You grin, keeping your voice low. You really didn't want to scare them off. "Can I sit here?"

They look at each other with an expression unreadable to you, before one of them nods. "Yeah, we can't see why not."

"Oh, thank you!" You say excitedly, pulling your bag up onto the desk to grab your other notebook out of it.

"You're the Victor." The other girl comments, and you realize they're both staring at you still.

You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, nodding. "Mhm."

"So... why are you here?" The girl closest to you with a brunette ponytail asks.

"Oh, well, Coriolanus, he was my mentor, he came to visit me back home and convinced me to come study here." You explain. "I want to have a career. Help my family."

"Oh, we know him." She says, and they look at each other again, chests shaking with laughter they're attempting to conceal.

"You do?" You smile. You knew starting with his friends was a good idea, this is just a happy coincidence that you had decided to sit next to two of them already.

"Yeah, we went to the academy with him." The girl's friend explains. You notice then that they have a very similar hair colour, but hers is cut short and curled just above her shoulders. "He always had such a stick up his ass. Took everything way too seriously."

"That's what my brother said, too." You giggle. You weren't sure if they were being genuinely mean or not, but you decided to air on the side of caution. You wanted friends. "But he is truly lovely. Do you know him well?"

"You could say that." One of them answers vaguely and you just smile, tucking your bag back under the table. "Your bag is... interesting. Where did you get it?"

"Oh!" You say excitedly, lifting it back onto the table. "My Ma made it for me. Isn't it pretty?"

They laugh, and your smile fades. You thought it was very nice, made from pieces of scrapped linens that she had used in other projects, stitched together into a pattern that made up your shoulder bag. It was perfect for carrying your notebooks and pencils, you had brought it to school back home all your life.

"It's... something else." The girl with the short hair nods.

"Does your Ma hate you? That's so sad." The other girl pouts, resting her chin on her hand.

You quickly hide the bag away again at your feet. "No, of course she doesn't." You weren't sure what to say. Why were they being mean? They had been nice to you a moment ago.

"Did she make your dress, too?"

You just nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"Wow, yeah, I could tell." You look down at the words, unsure as to what she could see that could be wrong with it. This was one of your favourites.

Admittedly, it was a little short on you, similar in style and colour to the one you had worn to the Capitol the first time you came. But now, looking at what she was wearing and her friend, both with button-up shirts similar to Coryo's and different coloured blazers with a matching skirt, you realize that your attire is very different. Different vastly from everyone in the room as well, as more students are trickling in.

You didn't think it mattered until now.

You don't get the chance to come up with anything in defense of your dress before she reaches out and grabs at the material of your scarf, rubbing it between her fingers. "This is the scarf you had with you in the games. It doesn't look like your mother made it, though. This is mulberry silk."

You jump a little at the unexpected contact, and they laugh. "Uhm, no, she didn't." You clear your throat. "It's a family heirloom. I'm not sure where it came from." Not entirely a lie, it just wasn't your family heirloom.

"Neat. So, where are you staying?" She asks after a moment.

"With Coriolanus and his family. They've been very kind to me." You smile. Their eyes go wide and they look at each other again.

"You mean, on the Corso?"

"Yes, that's what he told me it's called."

"Wow, you really made yourself comfortable here, huh?"

"Well," You laugh slightly. "It's been an interesting transition, but he's made it much easier. He helps as much as he can."

Simultaneously they pick up on the pink flush of your cheeks as you remember the amount of times he's come running when you had a nightmare, only to bring you water and back to his bed to sleep after. Weirdly enough, he made you feel safer now.

"Oh my god." The girl with the bob laughs. "You like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do. He's my friend." You smile, a little confused. That only makes them laugh more, and you pick up on what they were implying. Quickly, you turn even more pink in the face. "Well, I mean, um..."

"Y/N." You turn your head at the mention of your name, looking up at the girl now standing in front of you. She was smiling, and immediately seemed to have a kinder spirit than the girls you were already sitting with. "Come sit with me, Coryo asked me to save you a seat."

"Oh, okay." You nod, grabbing your things again and standing. You were eager now to get away from those other girls.

"Lysistrata, come on. We were just talking to our new friend." The girl with the ponytail pouts, and you look back at Coryo's friend. She just stares at them, something akin to a warning in her expression.

"Where do you want to sit?" You ask her, still recovering from their mildly embarrassing comment as you stand up.

She just nods toward one of the upper rows and starts walking. "It was nice to meet you." You smile at the girls nervously before following behind her.

"Oh, and Twelve?" You stop and turn when the girl with the ponytail speaks up again. "Good luck with Coriolanus, though I hate to tell you I have a head start. We're actually engaged. But like I said, good luck!"

You feel your face pale and you just nod, quickly turning away and focusing your gaze on the long dark braids belonging to the girl leading you up the stairs.

Your mind is absolutely reeling as you follow her to some seats near the back. You didn't know he was engaged. Honestly, you thought you were kind of his girlfriend. He told you he loved you not ten minutes ago, for god's sake! But maybe it had meant something different to him all along. Was this something they did in the Capitol? Because back home if you kissed someone that meant they were your one and only, but maybe that was very different here. So many things are very different here.

"They aren't engaged. Don't listen to her." Coryo's friend, Lysistrata you think her name was, says as you sit down.

You look over at her. "They aren't?"

"No." She scoffs. "Livia just thinks they're getting married because her daddy wants them to. They hardly ever even talk."

"Oh." You reply quietly, looking down the rows at the girls you were just with. That does ease your panic. "Not... not that it matters to me."

"It's okay." She smiles kindly at you. "To be honest, he hates her." She whispers. "I think you've got a much better chance. He speaks very highly of you."

You blush, smiling back at her. "I don't believe we've met properly. My name is Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." She smiles, and for the first time today, it feels genuine. "I'm Lyssie."

"Did you go to the academy too?" You ask for the sake of making conversation. She seems lovely, and you're excited at the idea of actually having a friend in one of your classes.

"I did." She smiles. "I was Jessup's mentor. Coryo and I worked a lot together during the games."

You chew on your lip, nodding slightly.

Today was just full of draining conversations.

"I'm sorry." She adds quietly. "You all deserved better."

"I'm sorry I didn't stay with him." You whisper. "I regret it every day."

"Don't. You did what you had to do, no one holds anything against you. I think you did the right thing."

You just nod, opening your notebook. You have to hope that once you get all these impossible conversations out of the way and people know you better, you'll have other things to talk about. And maybe one day, the topic won't make you want to cry, throw up, and jump off the nearest building all at once.

"He was one of the best of us. He should have won." You say quietly.

"Don't say that." She smiles sadly at you. "I'm glad it was you if it couldn't be him, and he was very sick. He wouldn't have made it much longer anyway."

"I had to go home and see his family." You felt comfortable talking to her, like she wouldn't judge you. It was a relaxing feeling. "My heart breaks for them, they're good people. And they needed him."

"You know his family?" She asks.

"Not really. We've crossed paths here and there, my Ma helps them on occasion with fixing their clothes." You shrug. "Still, though. From what I know, they try to stay in life. Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends."

"Would you happen to know their address? I would love to write to them. To apologize, that is." She explains and you smile, nodding before scribbling it down in your notebook and ripping out the page to hand to her.

"Thank you."

Another two hours, another "icebreaker", and more stares. You hoped that your classmates would eventually get tired of staring at you, you imagined it would make it quite difficult to take notes or pay attention to the lecture.

You felt almost guilty about it. Coryo didn't tell you that everyone would be so shocked but you shouldn't be surprised. Looking down at your clothes and the scarf that had almost entirely been cleaned of the blood stains it carried back to Twelve, you thought maybe it could have something to do with how you dress. Obviously, it would be distracting if you stood out so much, so maybe fitting in would be better. As much as you love your handmade clothes, maybe they would have to be reserved for time spent at the apartment or on rare days out.

Coryo is waiting outside since he got let out a few minutes early. There was no use in starting a lecture when going over the syllabus took a full hour and a half. When students start pouring out of your room, he looks at everyone waiting to see your smiling face. Well, hoping to see you smiling.

Lysistrata walks out first, and with no sign of you with her he grabs her arm to catch her before she turns the other way.

"Thank you for doing that." He says, smiling sympathetically at her.

"Of course." She grins. "She's lovely, we talked for a bit before class."

"Yeah, she is. Anyway, thanks." He nods at her, dropping her arm and with a kind nod, she's back on her way.

He counts his blessings that he had run into her after leaving you for that class a few hours earlier.

"Hey, Lyssie." He grins, stopping her in the hall as she was on the way to class.

"Coryo. How are you?" She smiles and he shrugs.

"I'm alright." He replies quickly. "What class are you going to?"

"Uh..." She looks briefly at her notes. "Geography. B217."

He sighs in relief, and she looks at him confused and lets him pull her to the side of the hall. "That's Y/N's class, would you mind sitting with her? She told me that this morning that no one would and I know she just really wants to make some friends... Could you do that for me?"

"Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N, your tribute?" Her eyes go wide and he nods. She didn't pay any attention to gossip and focussed more on getting from one class to another. She didn't even know that you were here.

He chews on his cheek while he waits for her to respond. If anyone was willing to make that social sacrifice, it would be Lyssie. School was never a popularity contest to her.

"Of course I can. Yeah."

When you walk out not long after her, he's quickly joining your side. Earlier, he felt so uneasy having you all over him with people watching and by now he just missed you. If he didn't know better, he would have decided he didn't care- but he has to.

"How was it?" He asks and you smile, as per usual, but he notes that now you have untucked your scarf and are instead using it to drape back over your shoulders and around your arms and back.

"It was delightful." You say happily, following his steps along the hall. "And yours?"

"Delightful?" He asks, smile tugging at his lips. He can't help it. "That wouldn't be a word I would use, but I would say it was okay."

"Okay is better than awful." You shrug.

"Certainly is." He agrees, leaning down to speak quietly into your ear in the loud hallway. "Missed my girl, though."

"Is that me?" You ask, allowing him to open the door to the building for you.

"Of course it's you." He chuckles as you pass him. "What do you mean?"

You laugh. "Well, I met a girl named Livia in my class and she told me that the two of you were engaged."

Coryo groans, letting the door fall shut as he follows behind you. "No, ew. She's... no. Absolutely not. Maybe if I planned on marrying someone I absolutely despise, then she would be the perfect candidate."

"But that's not what you look for in a woman?" You ask, turning to walk backward in front of him.

"Nope."

"I'll take your word for it." You giggle, seemingly nonchalant about Livia's apparently blatant attempts to scare you away. Coryo wouldn't let that happen, and he's glad you didn't see it that way.

He smiles at you as he rejoins your side.

"Coryo." You say, breaking up the peaceful quiet of your walk home. He looks at you. "I think I shall look for a job."

"A job?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. "You don't need a job, we talked about this. Just focus on school."

"No, I know." You say quietly. "But I think I would just like some spending money, perhaps get some new clothes. Wouldn't that be nice?"

His heart sinks unexpectedly. As much as he would love to see you blending in more and embracing the culture that came with living in the Capitol, it didn't feel like that would really suit you. If he wanted a Capitol girl, he could have had one. Apparently, that's not what he wanted anymore, but the more you blended in and became "one of them" like he promised Dr. Gaul you would, the more likely people would be to accept the extent of your relationship. However undefined it may still be.

"If that's what you would like, but you don't have to work for that." He shakes his head. "I told you I would take you to the mall, the one with the ice cream shop. Maybe we can go on Friday." Friday was the first day of your weekend- the one day during the week that neither of you had any classes.

"That would be fun." You smile up at him. "I'll just have a look around, see what people are wearing. Get a better idea of what to save for."

"If that's what you want, love."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mr. Blizzard

Debut: Super Mario 64

Who ordered the Funny Snowman? Not you, because this is a blog and not a restaurant, silly! You are just so silly. But between you and me, I am a fan of Funny Snowman, so I will humor you!

Mr. Blizzard is one of the first snowmen to appear in the Mario series, and the one who would become the most iconic and recurring. This is something he should be proud of, since Super Mario 64 has a bunch of snowmen in it! But one of them based his whole identity around missing his head, and the other one is an entire location. Gimmicks that make them memorable, sure, but not very versatile for future use!

Mr. Blizzard's design really notably uses billboarding, the graphical trick where a sprite will always face the camera, giving flat circles the appearance of spheres in a slightly blurry 3D world. Snowmen are SO orbs! Some of the most orbs guys I can think of! It was a very good decision. Mr. Blizzard is honestly slightly unconventional compared to other cartoon snowmen, with no nose- nay, nary a carrot- and a simple line mouth, rather than the typical "series of dots" mouth that we know and love. Instead, it has a blank, autism creature face, with its eyes and mouth seemingly made of the same material! Mouth made of eye, or eyes made of mouth? You won't know until you kiss him on the lips!

Nowadays, Mr. Blizzard uses a new design, which I also like a lot! This time he has a scraggly mouth because he is, as I assume he would say, "not too sure about this one, guys". He now has snow buttons on his torso, revealing that he was previously NAKED down there, and he also wears a bucket as a hat! That's one of those things that's so common in Japanese media, but in Western media it's always a top hat. So funny how one cartoon snowman had such influence on media! The average snowman-builder is much more likely to own a plastic bucket than a top hat!

Mr. Blizzard's main Thing is his single arm, adorned with a cute little mitten, which he uses to throw snowballs. Do you think that's like throwing his own flesh? I don't think so. If clothing buttons and igloos can also be made of snow, I think snow is just the building block of a snowman's world. But still, imagine some cattle throwing delicious meatballs at each other. Messed up! How would they even do that with hooves? Would they use their tongues like slingshots? What was I talking about? Where am I?

Oh yes! I am in "Snow World". Mr. Blizzard is a recurring enemy snowman, but Mario's world is also full of morally neutral living snowman, who DO have carrot noses, thank goodness. These snomonculuses are obstacles on snowy Mario Kart courses, but it's kind of rude to refer to them as that. Is a pedestrian an obstacle to a driver? Suffer, vehicles, as I wield my high level spell called "right of way"!

In Mario Kart Tour, these entities are exclusively referred to as Snowpeople! Gender? They hardly snow 'er!

[longislandcharm]

TIMING: Early March LOCATION: Winter's House PARTIES: @longislandcharm and @animotoph0bia SUMMARY: Finn wakes up at Winter's house after another long night and Winter decides its time to have a talk. CONTENT WARNINGS: Alcoholism tw, Unsanitary tw (light mentions)

She was starting to feel like a babysitter for this guy and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Last time she met Finn out and he was shitfaced, Winter had put him in an Uber and called it a night but this time she couldn’t in good conscience do that. There was no telling what kind of driver he might get, not to mention she truly did want to ask the man some questions about the crap he kept saying when intoxicated. Something about feeling other people’s emotions and calling out others for said emotions. He was a total mess but her curiosity had definitely peaked.

Now he was fast asleep in the guest room that she was still trying to unpack from her recent move, the medium trying to shake him awake with the promise of aspirin and electrolyte infused water. “Come on shit head, wakey wakey. We need to talk.” She placed her offerings on the bedside table before moving to the window to open the curtains. Despite the snow all over the ground it was a bright sunny day. She hoped that with the light filtering in it would wake him up faster. 

“You were a real peach again last night. This time I let them hit you.” And Winter didn’t feel one ounce of guilt about that. If he wanted to act like a disaster then he deserved the pain the next day. She even considered taking the aspirin away. “You really are determined to piss off this whole town, aren’t you?”

Finn was well aware that alcohol was a shit way to get some sleep - something about sleep quality and whatnot, plus the mornings that followed tended to be rough. What was good about it was the lack of dreams. As well as the meds usually worked to knock him out, they loved to throw some nightmares into the mix for the fuck of it, and where was the sleep quality in that? At least when he was passed the fuck out, there was the benefit of simply not existing for a moment - until existence inevitably turned around and whacked him in the head. 

Like, literally. He was no stranger to hangover headaches but ouch. 

“Shut the fuck up, Ellie,” Finn groaned, becoming more aware of his surroundings and the suffering with every passing moment. And eventually the fact that this wasn’t his sister’s voice, nor was it a room he was familiar with. Hands scrambled for bed sheets as he moved to sit up, way too fast which was a horrible idea, everything spinning and the pain in his head going blinding for a second. The light streaming into the room didn’t help, vision blurry as he blinked at the owner of the voice and the unfiltered annoyance. “Winter?” he finally croaked out, hand reaching out on instinct and actually managing to find his glasses. “What the fuck…” 

They hadn’t… no. No way, he would have remembered that… right? Also, she was way too pissed off for that to be… well, actually… Wait, pants. He was still wearing pants which was a good sign, even as he still clutched the sheets to his bare chest like a lady in a film from the 60s. “Wait, who hit me?” Finn eventually said, now able to distinguish the pain of the headache from what was definitely a bruise forming on the side of his face. 

“Yes, Winter, the one who keeps witnessing your very quick descent into infamy. I don’t know an Ellie.” She turned, hands on her hips, to find the man clutching the fabric of the sheets to himself as if she were trying to get a peek at him. For a brief moment she wondered if he still had his pants on for him to act like that but then a realization came to her. She was almost offended by how terrifying sleeping with her seemed to be. “Oh, you wish.” Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his shirt from an armchair next to the bed and tossed it at him. “I won’t look, princess. I didn’t even see you last night, I just threw you in here and said good luck.” For good measure she turned back towards the window so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Even with the biting words, she didn’t want him feeling like that.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t the big guy from last time but this one was pretty big. Muscley, someone I would have actually taken home if you weren’t almost out cold on the ground.” No she wouldn’t have. She would have never touched that guy but she felt like rubbing it in just because it seemed so ludicrous to him that they could have. Winter was petty, there was no denying it.

“There’s water and aspirin on the bedside table. Take it. You’re going to need it because I want to talk to you about something.” Her arms were crossed but she brought one up to inspect her nails as she waited. She wasn’t sure how much time he needed since Winter was sure he was moving slowly. The man was a wreck. “Something about feeling emotions and all. You brought it up again last night and I’m finally curious enough to ask what you mean.”

Everything was still so fuzzy, the process of waking up someplace he had no recollection of arriving at making everything more confusing. And even though he was barely awake enough to say more than a few words, Finn was somehow still managing to piss Winter off further. “We both know you’re way out of my league, hence the confusion,” he did manage to fumble out, hoping it would at least slightly rectify the situation. Whatever the situation was. 

Even though it made the room spin, Finn used the provided opportunity to scramble from the bed, grabbing his discarded sweater from the floor and pulling it on. It smelled how he felt which was in no way helpful. “You really shouldn’t perpetuate the myth that girls only sleep with assholes,” he shot back because everything hurt and Winter’s bad mood was easily rubbing off on him. A ‘thank you’ was definitely due but she was pissy which meant so was he. Although the aspirin did seem like a peace offering, no matter how ominous that ‘something’ sounded. 

Finn didn’t have to wait long for Winter to elaborate and of course this discussion was about some shit his big, dumb mouth had been blurting out. Gulping down the water like a man shipwrecked for weeks, Finn made an attempt to stand before deciding against it. “Right. That. Don’t know what there is to discuss, sounds pretty self-explanatory,” he said dryly, tentatively touching his aching jaw and wincing. Must have been a pretty decent punch. 

Way out of his league? Well, that was enough to simmer her anger down a bit, Winter sighing softly. The people in this town needed to get more self esteem even if Finn was correct. She was out of his league. “You’re not the worst choice of partner out there, have a little more faith in yourself. It might help others like you if you actually liked you.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him, still annoyed but clearly losing her edge little by little. For some reason she held a soft spot for the self deprecating people of this world. She didn’t show it in the best way, no, but she only wanted them all to realize the good things about themselves so they could appreciate them all, no matter how little those were in quantity. She wanted the same for him.

Until his next statement, anyway. “I didn’t sleep with you, now did I?” Her arms crossed over her chest, annoyed with him once more for accusing her of perpetuating such a stereotype. It wasn’t even true. After hearing his rustling around in the room, she figured it was safe to turn her head and see if he was dressed now, and thankfully he was so she turned the rest of the way to face him. “So, not perpetuating anything.” 

Her eyes narrowed in on him, not amused with his answer. Why was it so difficult to talk to people around here? “So you can feel the burning desire I have to punch you myself, right?” It was rhetorical, of course, as her curiosity for what he could do outweighed her need to go back and forth with him. Winter uncrossed her arms to take a seat on the opposite side of the bed from him as she continued. “But really…you just feel what everyone else feels? If you wanted to know what I was feeling towards you then you could dig around with your mind or? How does that work?”

It was almost a compliment, but genuine. Mission accomplished in not getting himself thrown out the window, then. A fair point, too - at least he wouldn’t try to eat someone on the first date. Chewed with his mouth closed as well. Probably put him well above a few of the picks in town. “Hey, I’m an oldest child with a dead dad, what do you want from me?” Finn shot back, hoping to discourage any further attempts at a lesson in self love. Which was easy seeing as he was running his mouth and Winter was already on edge. 

“Fine, point Winter.” Finn scooted back on the bed, leaning against the wall with a quiet groan. Counting down the minutes until that aspirin kicked in. This had to be the worst possible moment to be having this conversation but it was either that or standing up so Finn rode the wave of Winter’s annoyance at his nonanswer. Raising an eyebrow, realizing that she actually didn’t crave violence too badly at this moment, he only replied with a slightly smug shrug. 

The bed dipped under her weight and the curiosity grew. It really did seem like she believed him. Pushing back unruly hair, Finn sighed. “Yes and no. It’s not exactly an on or off thing, more like… smelling, I guess. Trust me, I would love to be able to only pry when I wanted to but no dice. It’s just… there. Constantly. Which is great because people totally have emotional regulation and it never gives me a mental breakdown.” Alright, oversharing a bit, back it up. “Aaaand I have no fucking clue how it works or why so there.”

That escalated quickly. Winter raised an eyebrow at him, surprised that he would say that so indelicately, but she couldn’t judge. She had no idea what it was like to lose a parent or how people coped. Still, she was pretty sure his dead dad wouldn’t want him to hate himself so much…right? That’s how parents were, or should be, really. “And I’m an only child with parents who apparently manipulated me my whole life. Doesn’t mean you should think so badly of yourself.” The words might have held the facade of being unsympathetic but her tone was softer this time, almost as if he didn’t annoy the shit out of her. 

Satisfied, a smirk pulled at her lips, the girl taking that as a win. He could rub her the wrong way but at the end of the day she did like somebody who could be as snarky as she was, especially when they gave her credit for comebacks. It was enough to satiate her need to ‘one up’ as her mother had once called it. 

Winter couldn’t imagine having to be in his shoes. The girl didn’t even like her own emotions, or admitting to having them anyway, and this man had to walk around and feel everyone else’s constantly? It was almost violating in a way, knowing that everything she tried to hide from others was readily available to him but at the same time he couldn’t help it, could he? She now understood why he was such a mess. On one hand, she hated this for him, but on the other she was wondering whether or not Finn could feel that sympathy she now held for him. “Wow…it must suck to be you.” It was all she could think to say, fully aware that she couldn’t handle what he had to go through every minute of every day. “No wonder you’re a dick.”

Aw, shit. Was there a way to go back to her being exasperated? Finn would much rather deal with that than the waves of pity currently worming their way into his brain. Probably his fault for prefacing all of this with a dead dad joke - fine, less of a joke, more of a snarky comment - but still. It was glaringly obvious, even with the tendrils of worry he now specifically recognized as people wanting to guard their emotions. It had been there with Milo but to be fair, he’d been high when the bomb had been dropped. If only he had some weed to offer Winter now. 

A saving grace, she didn’t offer her condolences. Instead, she had Finn barking out a laugh that immediately made his head throb. “I know, right? I was actually tolerable right up until puberty. Which applies to a lot of guys but still.” He sighed, letting his head drop back against the wall. Trying for once to focus on the horror of his hangover instead of Winter’s process of working through what this meant, a small attempt at privacy. “It’s almost hilarious how quickly people believe me here,” he pondered out loud, gazing at the ceiling. “You have no idea how many psychiatrists back home have tried to shove me somewhere into the DSM five.”

With no warning except a groan of effort, Finn pulled himself up from the bed. “I need caffeine. And then maybe food, jury’s still out on that one.” Especially now that he was standing, even though his stomach felt extremely hollow. Fuck, had Winter watched him hurl again? The fact that he’d thought for even the briefest of moments that they’d slept together seemed even more ludicrous now. 

She rolled her eyes, knowing damn well that anybody was insufferable after puberty hit. But she didn’t deem the comment worthy of correcting. Maybe his hit different. “Why? Is that when you started feeling everyone else’s moods?” It made sense, right? Puberty meant changing bodies so maybe his ability or whatever he wanted to call it manifested at that point. Winter almost thought that would have been worse though, suddenly having something that had never been there before and having to figure out how to navigate it? Yea, she knew how that felt and it wasn’t the easiest thing to go through. If that’s what he went through anyway…no need to form a kinship if that wasn’t the actual case.

A scoff filled the room, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked directly at the disheveled man currently inhabiting one of her guest rooms. Did he not know what went on around here? “I don’t think the DSM five has a place here. Let's just say, your little gift is the easiest thing I’ve had to believe in this town.” Just then, Henry walked through the closed door, the ghost looking between the two. ‘Am I interrupting something?’ She rolled her eyes again but Winter took the opportunity to explain what she meant. “For example, the shithead that just walked through the door. You know, the ghost you most likely can’t see? I see them everywhere.” 

She watched him pull himself to his feet, unimpressed, but the fact that he had the nerve to ask for anything else after their morning was almost impressive. Winter would have respected it had she not been the one who had to comply with his requests. Now she was just annoyed. Again. “I can make coffee but you’re on your own with food. I don’t really keep much in the house, mostly because I would probably burn it down if I tried to touch the stove.”

“Yeah,” Finn groaned, rubbing at his temples in a pathetic attempt to soothe the headache. “Almost made the voice cracks tolerable. Just like ‘hey, here’s some hormones and also, you’re maybe going insane’.” Winter reminded him once again that the only reason people believed him was that this was a hellscape town and if he’d been in better shape, Finn would have loved a sharing session of what atrocities she had encountered so far. Seriously, a list of places and people to avoid sounded great. Instead, he was focused on caffeine and food, barely registering her statement as he worked on patting himself down in search for his phone, responding with a distracted ‘mm-hmm’ as the search moved to the bedsheets. Bingo. 

“Wait, ghosts?” His brain finally caught up, sort of, and Finn quickly waved off the descriptions of her cooking skills. “Also, yes and thank you on the coffee even though I was totally planning on getting it somewhere else but since you offered- you can see ghosts?” Was Winter keeping up with him. Was he keeping up with himself. Clutching at his phone, Finn’s head swiveled to take in the room, as if he would suddenly see a person there that he’d just somehow missed before. “Where? Who? Are we talking like a Poltergeist deal or are they just… there?” Heaving in a deep breath because this was using up all the energy he really didn’t have, Finn resisted the urge to flop back down onto the bed. 

“That sounds rough.” Her voice was flat though, no sympathy to be shared this time around. She’d already given him that and even if Winter thought feeling everyone’s emotions at once was a fate worse than most she wasn’t someone to feel sorry for one long, especially when that someone brought on a lot of what they got themselves. “I can understand not knowing what to do with it at a young age but have you ever tried to look deeper into it? There’s gotta be some information out there pertaining to your…condition. Maybe even a way to control it? Because you can’t keep getting drunk in bars and starting fights with random strangers or you’re going to end up dead.” And for some reason that wasn’t a fun thought. Sure, he wasn’t her favorite person but she didn’t hate him either. She wouldn’t have brought him to her house if she did.

Why? Well, that she didn’t quite know herself.

There it was. Amusement took over the annoyance when her words finally hit him. She heard Henry snort as Finn started to look around the room, Winter throwing her arms up with a shrug. Oh, she was going to have fun with this. “He’s right next to you. Not a poltergeist…” A shudder ran through her at the thought of her last run in with one of those but the uncomfortable feeling passed as Henry moved closer, waving a hand in front of Finn’s face. “Did you feel the temperature drop? Did it wake you up a little more?” Her smile turned into a smirk. “That’s Henry. He says hi and sorry for your unfortunate circumstances but at least you have both of your arms…unless he takes one from you.” 

Now she was just being an ass but she hoped the entertainment she got would be worth it. Henry gave her a look and she shrugged at him to wave it off. “Alright, coffee it is. Henry will join us….well, he can’t drink it obviously but just a warning that he’ll be there in case you’re chilly.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Finn admitted, just the tiniest bit annoyed that he was getting brutally called out on the self-destructive behavior. And argument that he never planned on starting a fight seemed fruitless at this point, so he added instead, “I sure as fuck didn’t move here for the affordable housing or career opportunities.”

For a moment, he wondered if she was just messing with him. Finn had been here long enough to not doubt that there were people that could see ghosts but whether Winter was one of them… she was definitely enjoying the look on his face enough for this to just be one, big joke. Wrapping his arms around himself as she looked at something unseen just beside him, Finn figured that if it was a lie, she was a convincing actress. “Hello… Henry.” Was it colder or just the power of suggestion? Shuffling uncertainly across the floor, very aware that he might walk through someone, Finn followed her out of the room. 

“What’s he going to do with one of my arms?” he scoffed, even though the comment only prompted him to clutch both arms closer to his person. “So he just… follows you everywhere? What if you’re, like… y’know, with someone. Or showering?” Taking a seat in her kitchen, still glancing around as if that might suddenly provide him with the sixth sense (seventh?), Finn found that the Advil finally seemed to be doing its job. 

“To start random bar fights and end up in a pretty girl’s house, of course.” She shrugged, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world and her dry humor wasn’t on full display. Winter moved towards the coffee maker, the one appliance in her kitchen that got used more than anything, and started to work on their pick me up that they desperately needed. “Do you want an espresso shot too? You might need one…” She trailed off before finishing her harsh thought of ‘to get out of my house’, not wanting to scare him away. Because as much as she wanted him out of her house there was also an opportunity here to do something that she loved to do; research. “How far have you gotten with your search? Have you discovered anything about it yet?”

The smirk pulled at her lips, deepening, but Finn couldn’t quite see it as her back was turned to him and she let a casual tone slip into her voice. “Oh, you know, ghosts always seem to want what they don’t have. He’s missing one of his. Even if he can’t exactly use your arm his jealousy might get to him so I’d hold on tight.” Henry snorted at that, his head shaking at her antics. “You should leave the poor boy alone.” She just glanced over, showing the ghost how much fun she was having with the look on her face as an answer.

His question was a fair one but it did give Winter pause. The showering thing happened every day obviously but the other part of his question couldn’t be answered. That would have to be figured out at a later time. She could feel her cheeks heating causing her to frown. It wasn’t the fact that he was asking about it but the realization that she hadn’t needed to figure that out with Henry yet that was embarrassing her. Had it been that long? “Not that it’s any of your business, but he can be about twenty feet away from me.” There was a sharpness in her voice that she hadn’t intended on mixing in but that’s what she did when she was embarrassed; she lashed out. The severity depended on how embarrassed she got. “In the house he’s been able to roam freely without being by my side constantly. He gets stronger the more time he’s around so I think that’s helping him be able to pull further away.” 

“That too,” Finn agreed in the same, flat tone, a ghost of a smile on his face. Still just a bit too hungover to enjoy sarcasm at the moment. That coffee, though, that he would enjoy. He didn’t even bother to hide the excitement on his face as Winter went to work, agreeing enthusiastically with her offer for more coffee. Six espresso shots were probably closer to what he really needed but he was already a giant bother to Winter. “Not really. Just mostly been avoiding death and doing dumb shit since I got here. Feel like I’ve basically met and seen everything except something that might help me with this.” What a surprise that his plan of ‘go there and see what happens’ wasn’t working out perfectly. 

If his brain hadn’t been filled with cotton at the moment, Finn probably would have caught on to the smirk in Winter’s voice. In this current scenario however, the fear that an invisible figure would suddenly decide to tear off his arm was very real. “Cool. Very cool,” he mumbled, following Winter’s gaze at nothing, and shivering once more. Fucking ghosts. 

For the first time during their two rather unpleasant meetings, Finn felt his body grow warm with Winter’s embarrassment, followed by immediate guilt from himself. Oops. “Totally right, shutting up now.” She had answered his question though, satiating his curiosity on whether or not ghosts were just inherently pervy. Although the idea of an arm ripping ghost growing stronger wasn’t exactly putting the empath at ease. “Please don’t revoke my coffee privileges.” 

The medium let silence linger for a moment, Finn’s question making her think about her dry spell more than she wanted to. Ultimately, she blamed the town. It was full of weirdos and murderers and who’d want to sleep with those, right? That’s what she kept telling herself because delusion was better than blaming herself and her shitty attitude. Then she wondered why it was so easy to slip into those thoughts without the other interjecting. Winter, surprised that Finn wasn’t pushing this further, looked over her shoulder at him to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep where he sat. It felt like the only reason he wouldn’t be teasing her but no, he was sitting there just pleading for his coffee. 

And then she realized he’d probably felt how embarrassed she’d gotten and she bristled. That was going to take some getting used to.

She slid the coffee over the counter to him, deciding to give him a break on the ghost stuff since he was dropping the last topic as well. Instead, she would focus on his issue. “It’s called research, Finn. Reading, the internet, tracking down people who know about your abilities…it’s not that hard in Wicked’s Rest. I might know some people who can point us in the right direction.” Winter had used ‘us’ without even realizing it. Now she was curious too and whether she liked it or not she would be doing her own research. She might as well share her discoveries with him as she went. It was his problem after all. 

Even though the totally out of line topic had been dropped, Winter was still pensive and definitely annoyed. Not at Finn so much, he was starting to get a decent feeling for the exact kind of annoyance his presence evoked in her - no, it was an annoyance that he oddly related to. More of an… impatient restlessness that… Oh. Maybe he was way off but the chances of Winter appreciating a line of questioning about how long it had been didn’t seem high, even if Finn was on the same boat. That would definitely get his coffee privileges revoked. 

When Winter finally procured the cup of coffee, it inspired Finn’s first genuine smile this morning. Grabbing the cup did mean releasing the death grip he had across his torso but honestly, it probably wouldn’t even do much if Henry decided he was in the mood for chaos. And Finn really wanted that coffee. As he reveled in the sweet taste of caffeine, Winter started providing advice in a way that was a bit like scolding but beggars couldn’t really be choosers. “Oh, it’s called research, is it?” Didn’t mean he could shut down the hungover urge for sarcasm completely, though. 

“But uh…” Finn took another sip of coffee before continuing, wanting to make sure that the next words weren’t accidentally laced with sarcasm as well. “I’d definitely… appreciate that. Maybe I’ll even try not to be wasted next time you see me, as a thank you.” He glanced over at her, feeling immensely grateful for a moment while also completely undeserving of Winter’s help. Stupid hangover making him extra mushy. “Sorry. For, y’know… me.”

Her smirk returned when she saw Finn’s death grip unravel in favor of the coffee cup, her eyes flicking to Henry who rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. He was enjoying this just as much as her but he didn’t want to show that. No, that would be giving Winter too much credit. This would be a fun gag to keep up for a while, hopefully Finn would still believe it once he was in a better headspace. 

“Yea, asshole, research. Apparently, you don’t know the meaning.” Sarcasm for sarcasm, it was their thing. And then she sighed when she realized they had a thing apparently. Why was it so easy for people like this to get under her skin and burrow there? Their first encounter had ended with him in an Uber so how had that progressed into her giving him a room the next time? She should have left him in a gutter, she really should have, no matter how lost he seemed. As if to answer those questions, Finn’s words pulled at her lips, not able to help the amusement that came with them. “You? Not drunk in my presence? I’ll believe it when I see it.” She took her own cup from where it had just finished brewing and took a sip, Winter looking over the edge of it at him. He had to stop doing that if they were going to look into this together. She wouldn’t be able to handle the self depreciation too long. “Don’t ever apologize for being who you are, Finn. Own it or change it, but don’t apologize.”

[leonbastralle]

GAMES I PLAYED IN 2023 - FIRST HALF-ISH

i've been seeing a lot of this in gif form but i do not have the energy or video material and also i'm late but i rly wanted to make a post where i say a lil bit abt all the games i played and how i liked them!

pokemon platinum, soulsilver, white, white 2, y, sun, alpha sapphire & shield: i started a big mainline pokemon marathon in 2022 but most of it fell on 2023. it was a lovely time tbh and i miss it! platinum was a bit too grindy (but we love cynthia) and soulsilver traumatised me for glitch reasons. my favorites out of this lineup were definitely gen 5 in terms of storyline and pokemon selection, the later ones were a bit too handholdy and slow for my taste, and alpha sapphire could not compete w the og emerald which is my favorite pokemon game of all time. i did rly love shield though but that's bc i'm a) a football girl and b) i played it on my wife's sofa askfjhkasjf. anyway music is bangers all around and i do love The Concept of pokemon so i didn't hate any of them.

lonely people potion shop: this was an absolute surprise indie gem that i found on my wife's itch.io in 2022 but i replayed it for her in 2023 so it counts. this game is a rly short very fruity visual novel where you make potions for people and chat with them. it's one of the most heartwarming and gentle games i've played, every character is so lovely and caring towards each other and also to you the player! 100% would recommend i cried a bit several times.

validate: i really wanted to love this game because a dating sim/visual novel/narrative fiction type game w a super diverse cast (in terms of backgrounds, body types, gender, sexuality, and mental health struggles) and such a lovely art style? sounds perfect! and it would be if the characters weren't so...unlikeable sjfhaksjfa. it eventually got so difficult for me to root for them and also kind of frustrating bc the routes overlap in a way that even if you get good outcomes in one route, you can still mess up the relationship in a different route (because you have routes for each of the characters) so i ended up not finishing it.

neo cab: another one i never finished but was rly intrigued by! another visual novel but choices matter type deal where you play as a taxi driver in a dystopian world where you're being replaced by self driving taxis. the mechanics and cast are really cool and if the storyline didn't stress me out so much i would've finished it by now but i definitely will one day!

coffee talk 1/2: barista simulator meets visual novel in an urban fantasy setting where you also kinda save the world one drink at a time! i loved the first one so so much and finally played it last year in preparation for the second one coming out that i'd been anxiously awaiting, it's so vibey and the characters and their storylines are so interesting and i loved seeing their heartfelt interactions! also the first game was giving such strong queer vibes but they kinda dropped the ball w that in the second game trying to backtrack on that. ruined the experience for me a little bit but still a very solid game w cool additions to the already great cast of the first game!

skyrim: not much to say about that one. my favorite classic walking simulator that i keep coming back to, still very much playable and so pretty even on the switch! unfortunately also incredibly broken so i can't finish the solstheim questlines kjsfhkajsfas fuck you todd howard

calico: wonky little game where you explore the world and also bake and own a café that you can fill with all sorts of animals from cats to snow foxes to capybaras because why the fuck not! absolutely delightful, 10/10

later alligator: lovely little puzzle game w great old timey detective vibes and a banger soundtrack where everyone is alligators. these characters are such great fun, i loved the writing and i loved learning about all of them and doing tasks for them! the minigames got a bit frustrating at times bc i was lacking the coordination skills or just general strategy and there are some completionist things i could never do because of that and the main character (the main guy you're doing things for, not the player character) can get on your nerves pretty quickly but otherwise a lovely game w a great twist in my opinion

strange horticulture: this one made it into my all time favorites too. you play as the owner of a supernatural plant shop in a place where A Lot of strange things are going on. it has a bunch of really cool mechanics like plant identification and a lot of map related puzzles to find new plants, secrets etc. the overarching story that gets revealed bit by bit from an unknown person's pov outside of the gameplay while related events are also happening in real time was so interesting, and there are a lot of cool choices you can make that lead to various more or less unsettling outcomes. the spooky vibe is SO good but at the same time it has a very calming homey feel AND YOU CAN PET THE CAT 10000/10

penko park: another absolute indie banger. probably something like a pokemon snap but the beasties look fucking stupid and kinda creepy and the lore is cursed as hell. throughout the game you explore the remains of a park that was built upon the abuse of all sorts of cute little creatures (and big creatures) and while you mostly try to take pictures of every weird looking fella in their different emotional states that you bring upon them in various ways, maybe there's something you can do to right the wrongs of the park founders! who knows! (also special shoutout because these are german devs and as a german, i am especially demanding when it comes to german games and this one knocked it out of the park) (haha the park get it)

[estcsy]

things about robaire in my dr .^◡^.

(LONG OVERDUE I KNOW PLS FORGIVE ME 🙏🏼)

- when all of us are taking, he gets our attention like a kindergarten teacher like he just claps twice really loud

- he is really dedicated to taking good pictures for everyone like he’s the type of person that if you ask him to take pics for you he’ll like get on the floor and everything

- he has a lot of socks with dogs on them, and smiley faces

- I watched him break a punching back once that was crazy

- he’s the best driver out of all of us, most of the time we have a driver that takes us everywhere (shout out to jeff we love you) but if he’s not there then it’s robaire that’s driving

- when he’s driving on the freeway, he SCREAMS (which is completely valid la freeways are wild)

- his favorite animal is elephants :D

- he favorite color is black

- he is a very wise young man?? dude makes me wanna be the bigger person sometimes

- out of all the members I think he is the best at giving advice

- he can juggle? like really well?

- he watches a lot of true crime documentaries

- he was really used to it being cold in the winter since he’s from canada but when he came to california and it didn’t snow he was having a mental break down

- he is a very big fan of the hungry games

- he posts a lot of videos of him singing song covers

- he paints his nails sometimes (t or me normally do it for him)

- very responsible young man, I can count on him for anything

- he said that if he had a sister he’d only let me and taeyoung meet her

- his love language is physical touch and words of affirmation if I were to guess

- he has a very nice voice I like it a lot

- jesse is the one who gave him his eyebrow slit, when he found out he was gonna debut he got a little rush in assuming and he asked jesse to do it for him (his logic was that jesse does art and he has really study hands so he’s less likely to mess up)

- he likes peach flavored things

- dude LOVES 2pac (his favorite 2pac song is how do u want it)

- his favorite song from intoxicated is ‘dimple’ and right ‘here’ (AND I WROTE BOTH OF THOSE HA)

- he did write ‘wonder’ tho :D

- he prefers going to the beach then the pool

- after the puppy from our puppy interview with buzzfeed ripped his shirt apart he just walked around like that for the rest of the day, he didn’t even change

- he wants to have a family one day

- he got really happy when he took a “what 4town member are you?” quiz and got himself

- him and jesse are like in love they cuddle and everything

- mad robaire is scarier then hell itself

- I appreciate that when the paparazzi for whatever reason get really heavy on me he’ll pull me out and stand in front of me robaire you’re a real one 🫂 (he does this with all of us)

- when he was asked what it was like being the leader of 4town he said “it’s like taking care of four kids, and one baby”

- I saw his baby pictures and let me tell you bro had HAIR

- his mom is such a nice lady she makes jewelry and she gives us some every time we see her

- he has a clear phone case and in the back of it he has a polaroid of us at our debut showcase

- his wallpaper is a picture of him and his parents

- he has a “fake call” app so when he wants to get out of situations he’ll use that

- he is a very clean and organized person and when he’s stressed he cleans

- homie loves a good blt and finds it weird that I don’t like bacon

- he takes pictures of EVERYTHING he finds pretty or interesting.. he’s like a mom

- it actually became a meme of how happy he is when he takes pictures

- he absolutely destroys the food that taeyoung makes (we all do tho so I’m not judging)

- you see jesse doesn’t do very well with spicy food, and that white boy lives with one mexican, one korean, and one that’s mixed with mexican AND vietnamese so yk we really enjoy the spice but when jesse is in tears ripping his hair out because his moth is burning, robaire will be like “guys it’s not funny” (because yk we normally laugh at him) and then robaire will get a glass of milk for him and then laugh at him behind his back

- him and jesse are going on ‘hot ones’ soon so god save jesse, I think robaire will be fine tho

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Cabin Fics Masterlist

A Day Dream Away - making-paper-stars

Summary: Dan and Phil and both of their families go for a weekend away in a log cabin in the recluse of the Lake District.

a day in this life (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: They’re a million miles away from the life they had once led. Penthouses and fame have given way to a small cabin and basic necessities but they’re still them. Still Dan and Phil, as it should always ever be.

A million little suns (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is just trying to get as far away from his home town as possible at Christmas when he gets stuck in a snow storm. He’s rescued by an enigmatic stranger who take him back to his cabin in the mountains. What Dan doesn’t know is that his rescuer is prolific, best-selling writer of erotica, Ricky Blitz. Will Dan end up with a porn-worthy situation all of his own? (hint: yes)

Porn with feels and some Christmas magic.

Anniversary (ao3) - dils_whisk

Summary: Summary: Dan and Phil spend their anniversary in a cabin by the fire and talk about how much they love each other.

Cabin in the Woods (ao3) - dip_and_pip_trash

Summary: Two bros, chilling in a cabin. What could possibly go wrong?

caught between the tides (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: dan is alone in a post apocalyptic world, following the coast of the sea and heading north, avoiding what’s left of humanity at all costs. until, desperate and losing hope, he stumbles across a cabin in the woods that isn’t quite as uninhabited as it first appears.

Christmas In The Cabins - dxnhowell

Summary: Established!Phan going on a trip to the cabins and spending their first night together dancing to Christmas tunes and making pizza.

Cold, Empty Mattresses and Falling Stars - phanlight

Summary: 2009 au where phil and his family own a campground/cabins in an area that is known for stargazing and phil has lived his entire life there, therefore knowing a lot about stars. dan and his family come from the city to said campground because dan is a nerd and asked to come there for his birthday.

Lakeside Lovin’ - phancyphanfiction

Summary: Dan and Phil have to pretend to be dating for 5 days while at Dan’s parents lake house family reuinion. But things get nawdee.

Operation Cupid - nebulous-frog

Summary: Dan and Phil are rival camp counsellors- Dan leads an aesthetic cabin and Phil’s cabin is just a mess of arts and crafts supplies and glitter. Maybe their campers can finally make them see how good they are together through a cunning plan they like to call “Operation Cupid”.

Sea Glass (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family’s cabin while it’s repaired and sold. Except the cabin’s in far worse shape than expected, and Phil’s got to find somewhere else to stay (Phil POV)

the bear (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Phil rents a cabin in the Swedish woods and experiences a strange psychic connection with a bear. Not for kids.

The Stranger In The Woods - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is on his way to his friends house when a storm hits and he gets lost in the middle of the woods where there’s clearly no one around and no way for him to get help. At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees a cabin with lights on inside. Dan had been in a hurry before but after meeting the stranger who lives in the cabin, he might like to stay a bit longer.

Vacations, Hypochondriacs and a Little Bit of PTSD (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Neither Dan or Phil saw this weekend as one to worry about. Dan was a great driver, even though he never really got a chance to show it, and when he asked their good friend Cat to borrow her car for a few days after Vidcon, of course, she trusted him with the keys.

where we belong (ao3) - parentaladvisorybullshitcontent

Summary: “Only you,” Martyn says.

“Only me what?”

“Only you could end up stranded in the middle of nowhere with a gay author who writes gay books. Jesus Christ, Phil.”

In which Phil is snowed in with nobody but the mysterious dark haired author next door for company.

Winter Cuddles (ao3) - goingintohiding (orphan_account)

Summary: Dan hates the cold. So of course he and Phil get snowed in at the cabin they rented. He’s miserable until he finds a warm someone to snuggle against.~ Fluffy first kiss phanfic <3

[dearyallfrommatt]

 "Cry, Cry, Cry”

This is pretty neat.

Okay, so this is a cover of a Johnny Cash song, his first single actually, which hit Number 14 on the Country charts in 1956. Tommy Ray Tucker (credited here with his middle name so as to not confuse him with “Hi-Heel Sneakers” Tommy Tucker) was a Memphis boy who was one of the thousands of greasy-haired hopefuls who came to the city by the river after the Sun rose on the newly crowned King.

He first caught the ear of Memphis svengali “Cowboy” Jack Clement, who’d recently been fired from Sun Records. He recorded Tucker’s debut single “Lovin’ Lil/A Man In Love,” co-written by rockabilly wildman Charlie Feathers. Clement encouraged the young singer to sound as much like the Man In Black as he could, and by golly, he did. He sounds more like Johnny Cash than Johnny’s own brother Tommy did, but that’s neither here nor there.

Tucker’s second single “Miller’s Cave,” written by Clement, has become something of a country standard with charting covers from Hank Snow (#9) in 1960 and Bobby Bary (#4) in 1964. Both of these singles were released on Hi Records, which would later be known as the second home of Memphis Soul thanks to Willie Mitchell, Al Green, Syl Johnson, and Ann Peebles. At the time, it was the second home of Memphis rock & roll, taking a lot of the folks who were either cut from or ignored by Sun Records. They didn’t produce a mess of charting hits but it was the rare jukebox in the South that didn’t have its share of Hi Records singles from Carl McVoy or Jumpin’ Gene Simmons.

Like I said, Clement encouraged Tucker to sound like Cash, and this cumulated in a sequel to Johnny Cash’s 1958 Number One smash “Ballad of a Teenage Queen.” Also written by Clement, Tucker cut “Return of The Teenage Queen” in late 1960. Even better, Clement had just been hired by Chet Atkins to work his magic at RCA Nashville and brought Tucker with him.

While it didn’t make any chart noise, things were looking up for Tucker. Unfortunately, while racing on Highway 61 outside Memphis in his ‘57 Olds the next year, Tucker rear-ended another driver. That driver’s car spun into another, resulting in four deaths. Tucker ran from the scene and called his manager Eddie Boyd (another Nashville stalwart, notable for rejecting Elvis Presley just before the latter cut his first single for Sun).

Tucker was sentenced to a year for manslaughter, doing nine months for good behavior. RCA dropped him like a bad habit and he remained on the fringes of Nashville and Memphis music since. This low-down, R&B-flavored cover of Cash’s “Cry, Cry, Cry” was cut in 1965 for the Challenge Label (founded by singing cowboy Gene Autry) and produced by another Memphis music legend Stan Kesler. He wrote some songs Elvis recorded.

Interestingly, Tucker would record two more times with Hi Records. Once was in 1968 backed by the famous Hi Rhythm Section (remember what I said about  Al Green?) and the duality of the tunes sort of fits the man as a whole, I think. He cut a fairly standard version of the country nugget “Shackles & Chains” that harkens back to his days as a Cash impersonator. However, the real jewel was a low-down, harmonica-drenched version of Jimmy Reed’s “Shame, Shame, Shame” which gives Tony Joe White a run for his money when it comes to swamp funk.

One of his last recordings was in 1975 and for Hi’s attempts at selling records to a country market. Everyone did this, mind. Motown, Stax, Casablanca, they all tried to sell country records and didn’t. His last song was entitled “You Hitched Your Wagon To a Loser.” I’ve never heard it but I want to because, goddamn, if that ain’t a country song.

Tucker died in 1985 after falling asleep with a cigarette. His apartment caught fire and he died of smoke inhalation. There was a collection of his Memphis recordings released on LP but that’s it. I first heard him from the 1999 two-disc collection Hi Records: The Early Years and as far as I know, that’s the only place you can find him.

 Damn shame and this is a good tune. Dig it.

[ring-of-elysium-cheats-p1]

Download free cheats for Ring of Elysium ROE Steam

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥 Hints and Tips for: Ring of Elysium. Ring of Elysium Cheats. This can mean getting back to your gun slightly quicker than running the zipline until the end of the line. Also, Bodyarmour allows you to carry an additional 50lbs, so it's really useful to find a vest as soon as possible. Meaning you can move a little faster while crouched, or conversely; move even more quietly if you're in the same house for example. Use this to your advantage as you can fire off a quick burst, get behind cover, and if they lack cover use at your own discretion know that the enemy only has a vague idea - behind, left, etc. Some reduce Vertical recoil the pull up and some reduce the Horizontal the pull away. Consider re-mapping it if you use it alot. Use with caution, and this goes both ways. From what I've noticed, once equipped to weapon the indicated weight is subtracted from my current carry weight. Useful if you are trying to peak a corner and quickly get back into cover or just make yourself a harder target. So can the passenger. So you can have the driver of the snowmobile and the passenger both weidling SMG for deadly drive-by potential. So do not rely on that as an indicator. If your vehicle is getting shot at a lot, abandon it. However, sometimes this is better than remaining in a vehicle that may simply explode. You can also type in the amount you wish to drop. You need snow to pick up speed. Tested in squads. So if you have the board, it's generally better to use the board to cross open areas, unless the terrain is going uphill, in which case going on foot is better. Insane fire rate, minimal recoil. I would consider mapping these to side mouse buttons for easy access. So don't rely on smoking out the ladder for your safe ascent. If you ADS, you can get a pretty good view of where you are going and potential enemies. You can also heal while in a passenger seat. Also, when you're in a vehicles passenger seat the vehicle does not run however if you just swtiched seats, the vehicles engine still makes noise for about 5 secs so you can essentially hide in a vehicle as the enemy make think its a free vehicle. Note: The ski lifts do not have map markers indicating where they are going, so you have to visually estimate. Basic Beginner's Guide: Written by Romansky Fingerfuk This is a brief guide to help you play better and sharpen your skills! Mostly dual Vector with shotgun. Mosin or better. Grosa pref. And the best bet is that if there are a lot 2 or more teams fighting it out in an area, just sneak in close to get an eye on the fight. If you're not included in the fight then you're not a target! At any point you can decide to engage and either take kills with a sweet pot-shot or sweep us the mess and take the loot for yourself! I've also many times decided that I wanted to avoid any inclusion and went after it was all over, sometimes my gear just isn't good! If they manage to deal more damage than you have health, you're dead! Try to only engage a group or person when you either have better cover than they do, or they're not expecting you. I've snuk in on people looting many times! If you have cover from enemy fire, heal up! I heal if I'm. Submit your codes! Having Codes, cheat, hints, tips, trainer or tricks we dont have yet? Help out other players on the PC by adding a cheat or secret that you know! Submit them through our form. Covering more than CheatBook-DataBase Cheatbook on: Twitter Facebook.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Not Ready to Go Back

Caleb Danvers x reader x Pogue Parry

Word Count: 1,053

Summary: Caleb, Pogue, and reader are returning home after a winter road trip. From a prompt shared by @dhampiravidi for these underrated boys. 

Caleb hit the tune button and landed on another radio station.

Pogue and you exchanged eye rolls. “Keep going.”

Caleb sighed but did as directed. “What about this one? I kind of like it.” His head bobbed in time with the beat. Even though he was the driver, he most definitely was not in charge of the music.

You grimaced and leaned forward from your position in the back row to change it for him. “Are you serious, dude? It’s already giving me a headache and it’s only been for ten seconds.”

“Hey! Quit messing with the radio and put your seat belt k on,” he griped.

“He’s got a point,” Pogue admitted as he elbowed you back. “I’m shot gun so I have better reach, anyway.”

It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to you, but you put the seat belt back on with a metallic clink as Pogue took over station surfing. Within a few button presses, he found a jam that everyone in the rental car could agree on.

Pogue drummed on his legs, always the slightest bit off-time, while Caleb went back to his go-to move, which was sensible head bobbing. 

The real event, though, was in the back with your concert, performance of one.

Movement was restricted not only because of the belt wrapped around your torso, but also because you were sitting down. That didn’t stop you from throwing your arms overhead, wiggling along and passionately belting out lyrics. 

You smiled when both boys cheered you on. “Told you that other song was awful; aren’t you glad we found this one instead?”

Caleb stared at you through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes for a change. “I admit that this one is also pretty good. There. Happy now?”

Suddenly, a heaviness in the car weighed down the energy from moments before. You pressed your head against the cool window silently, shoulders hunched. There wasn’t much to see thanks to the inky night sky but the blur of stark white snow was still hard to miss.

The boys didn’t rush you and carried on conversation between themselves, ribbing each other on who had the best showing at the ski resort you’d left mere hours ago. 

And sure, it was only mere hours ago, but it felt like a lifetime away to you.

Sitting removed from them, individual words were tuned out and instead the tenor of their voices washed you. Both had low voices but Pogue’s was the tiniest bit deeper, especially when he whispered, and Caleb’s was more prone to rising in volume when he got excited.

If it wasn’t for the sudden headache forming between your eyes, it would’ve been prime napping conditions. As it was, you were too stressed to sleep.

Eventually, you worked up the nerve to clear your throat. The two up front immediately cut off their chatter, waiting patiently. For you.

“I don’t want to go back,” you admitted quietly.

The car became thick with emotion. Everyone got really quiet, the radio droning on in the background unable to pierce the heaviness.

Whereas Caleb had practice with sensitivity after having cared for his mom, Pogue knew his first reaction was usually to come off angry. Having learned his lesson after that fiasco with Kate in high school, the last thing he wanted to do was be too intense.

So it was clear that Caleb would have to start first.

“I’m sorry, honey. How can we help?” he asked sympathetically.

You picked at your fingernails, biting them even though you knew it was bad for you. “I don’t know if there’s anything you can do. It’s just…”

“… You have a lot waiting for you when we get back,” he guessed.

And you did. Classes were starting up again, which meant projects and tests were starting up. But what if one of the professors made tests the majority of the total grade? You weren’t the greatest test-taker and your results could wildly vary. Projects were done in groups so hopefully you were placed in a good one; you couldn’t take being the only one to do all the work again.

Possibility the biggest concern was the scenario in which you failed or had to drop a class. There wasn’t room for that in your academic plan, not to mention how horrible it would be to tell you parents about it. Not that they would disown you or anything it’s just that your expectations for yourself were that high.

Unlike Caleb, Pogue wasn’t compelled to keep his eyes on the road and knew you were on the verge of falling apart.

He reached to grab your hand and squeezed it tightly. “Yeah. School can suck,” he offered. You choked out a little laugh. “I’m always down for a cuddle, if you need it though.”

It was your turn to reach for him but the seatbelt didn’t allow you to get into the position you wanted.

Dipping your head underneath the section formally across your chest, you leaned as far as you could go and rested against Pogue’s shoulder from behind. 

The passenger seat cut into your neck awkwardly but it was worth it to have your cheek on his warm shoulder.

Luckily, you tended to run cold because the boys were always warm. It could’ve been a product of the magic but couldn’t say for sure. All you knew was that the warmth helped chase away some of the anxieties in that moment.

“Love you,” you mumbled. You glanced over to the driver’s seat. “Both of you.”

Pogue pet your hair comfortingly, content now that he had reassured you. Even Caleb turned away from the road to give you a brief smile. That is until he noticed you how you were sitting.

“Hey, I said ‘seatbelts on,’ remember? Seriously. Buckle up. We’re on the interstate, you know.”

“Fine. You don’t have to yell at me.” 

Despite your words, you really didn’t mind all that much. The both of them only ever had your best interests at heart and the rest of the drive went smoother with knowing that they would back you up no matter what was waiting for you in the city.

_______________

I had every intention of making this fun and fluffy but, of course, it went straight to angst lol. Hope it’s still enjoyable. 

[petersnya]

seventeen :: p. parker ::

summary :: “we’re only seventeen,” he breathed through the grin spread across his face. Cheeks red with blush while his pink lips were chapped from the cold of the snow that fell around him as he stood outside your window. || when your eyes met those honey brown ones, you felt something, but weren’t sure if he felt it too. He felt it. 10X harder.

paring :: peter parker x asgard!fem!reader

warnings :: heavy fluff tehe, teen romance// strangers>>lovers, cursing, slight smut (HEAVY make out and maybeee grinding ;) )

word count :: 2.6k (2,646)

[a/n] :: this is just a really cute idea I had and it just flew out of me. I’m IN LOVE with this and I hope u guys. Kk I think that all <3. click here to make a request!! click here to join the tag list!!

“Have you ever noticed how dull the world is?”

Your eyes were fixed on the window of the car beside you. You watched as the snow Incase the cars around you. Not being able to tare your eyes from the window, you talked to your sister, Valkyrie, with your back turned.

“It’s 'cause you’ve lived in a world of sunshine and rainbows,” Valkyrie said in a sarcastic tone and she glanced at you through the side of her eye. The two of you were in the back of a taxi, going to a location Thor Odinson had given you. After the prophetic was for filled and Asgard had been erupted into flames by Satur, the people of Asgard followed their new leader to earth. You were clueless as to where everyone went once they had adapted to life on earth while you stayed cooped up in an apartment, not having access to the outside world— until today.

Valkyrie had gotten a call from Thor saying that he needed them to come to the address he had told her.

You watched the city of Brooklyn, New York pass by flash by with all of the colorful lights and neon sign. People yelling on the side of the road with others crossing roads- horns being hooked as everyone rushed everywhere. It was chaotic, but you loved it. It was different.

“Can you stop staring and listen for once,” you turned your body around fully to face Valkyrie as you rolled your eyes. She looked at you with a blank expression before continuing.

“Remember, this isn’t Asgard. What seem normal to you is strange to mid gardens.”

“Okay okay, I get it. Is that all?”

“Whatever- just don’t embarrass yourself. Alright sis?” She held out her fist signaling for you to bump it with yours. A small smile spread across your face when you bumped fist.

“Where here,” the two of you turned forward to look at the taxi driver who looked back through the mirror. You shrugged and opened the door to leave the car.

“Hey! Missy! Where’s my money? I don’t do this shit for fun now,” he said with a raspy voice. You looked at your sister and she shrugged with a smile. You nodded as you both ran out of the car, slamming the doors.

Running side by side, you looked over your shoulder as you flipped off the driver as he honked and drove away— Valkyries laughing sounding in the air but came to sudden stop. As soon as you turned, you face came into contact with a large mans chest in your face. You slammed into him, causing you to fall back. The brown eyed girl next to you crouched over as she laugh and point at your face.

“Ahaha!- you should have seen your face dumbass!”

“Shut up,” you groaned as you sat up, a hand being held out to you. Looking up you saw that it was Thor with a big grin on face. You grabbed his hand, pulling yourself up along with his help.

“The hell is wrong with you,” you grumbled as you wiped the snow off of your clothing.

Thor chuckled as you slung his arms around the both of your shoulders, walking into the building in front of you.

“Lady [y/n], Valkyrie, welcome to the Avengers tower.”

⌫

“Stark!” Thor’s voice boomed through tower; his thick accent being herd loud and clear. You walked behind him and your sister, your figure being hidden behind them. Your arms crossed over your chest as you scanned the place over. It was nice and had lots of cool technology. You saw an averaged height, middle aged man with facial hair approaching. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand and the other tucked away in his pocket.

“Ah yes, Stark— and man of spiders— these are the girls i wanted you to meet!”

Man of spiders? You hadn’t seen anyone else walk in but you did hear A second set of footsteps.

“This is Valkyrie,” Thor said as he placed both hands on my sisters shoulder. She sent Stark a small nod and smirk. He returned it with a wave and a small ‘pleasure’.

“Annndd…where [y/n]?”

You pushed past Thor, arms still across your chest as you stood next to your older sister.

“Oh- well this is [y/n], Valkyries younger sister,” doing the same smile and nod as your sister, you gaze landed on the boy next to Stark. His eyes were already locked on you.

The boy looked around your age, seventeen in human years. His eyes were golden, honey shade of brown that matched perfectly with the mess of chocolate curls that sat on his head. His cheeks were flushed with pink as he swallowed the lump in his throat. The clothes he wore were nothing like the boys in Asgard. You had to admit, you loved how it looking on him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes stared deeply into yours, keeping you prisoner.

You loosened your arms that were formally crossed on your chest and started to play with your finger nails, not knowing what else to do. A feeling boiled inside you that you had never felt before. It was warm, and fuzzy. It sound so cliché but it was all so true.

“Ah- well it is very very nice to meet the two of you. This is the newest avenger, Peter. Peter Parker. Who is also known as Spider-Man.” Peter didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at you, but you have averted you gaze to something else.

“Tony, I think he’s frozen,” Thor said to the man next to Peter. You snorted a laugh, hand coming to cover you mouth. Tony snapped his fingers in front of the zoned out boys face.

“Uh- oh hi! I-I’m Peter Parker.. which you knew already…sorry,” he said with a nervous smile as he looked down to avoid your direct gaze.

“Ooookay, Thor will you take them to their rooms? I’m a bit busy,” Tony said as he point with his thumb to the room behind him as he walked into it. Thor nodded with his usual smile. He clapped his hands while turned towards you and Valkyrie.

“Let go shall we?”

“I can take [y/n] to her room! I-if it’s okay… is it [y/n]?” Peter called out, his eyes landing back on you. A smirk slipped onto your lips as you walked towards him and grabbed his hand. His breath hitched at the warm contact. You tried to contain your confidence as you looked at him.

“Lead the way,” you leaned into his face, “man of spiders,” you said with a giggle. Peter’s face became red.

“I love your accent,” he gushed causing you to smile widely, looking at him through your mascara coated lashes.

Peter began to walk you turn your room, you trailing behind, hand in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you winked at your sister. She laughed as she winked back. Thor looked down at her with an arched brow as you and Peter disappeared down the hall.

“What? Don’t cock block my sister!”

⌫

Approaching a gray door with a sliver handle, Peter opened it and led the two of you inside. Looking around, you were impressed by how nice it looked. It was absolutely amazing compared to the apartment you had been in. The best part to you was that you had a corner that you could sit in with a window. You already planned on watching earth through that window.

Peter started at you as you looked around the room with a smile.

“This is amazing. Thank you for showing me my room, Peter Parker.”

He almost groaned at the sound of you Asgarden accent saying his name.

“Any time,” he breathed. Looking down you saw that your hands where still in each other’s. You smiled and glanced up at him as he looked down and saw it too.

“Mrs. Stark has a message. Lights out kiddos.”

“What the fuck was that?” Your hand ripped out of Peter’s as you looked around for you could have said that. Peter laughed and explained that it was mr. Stark’s personal virtual assistant, Friday. You sighed and laughed in slight relief.

“Uh well I’ll see you tomorrow [y/n]. Goodnight,” Peter said as he walked over to the door, as smile on his face, lighting up his already rosy cheeks. You smiled back at him with a wiggle of your fingers, “night Parker,” you said as he closed the door.

Turning around you saw that there was a whole wardrobe for you. You started to strip, tacking off the sweatshirt Thor had given you to reveal your bare chest.

The door cracked open and Peter poked his head in.

“Let me know if you need—“ he paused as he saw your bare back facing him. Your looked over your shoulder with a smile.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” you slipped a shirt you found on over your head, now looking for shorts. Peter quickly closed the door.

The curly haired boy rested his back on the door as he let out a breath he had been holding in. His mind replayed the image of you body in his head on repeat. His breathing was un even as he closed his eyes, feeling the sweats he was wearing suddenly become uncomfortable. Running his hands through his thick curls he made his way back to his room.

You were finished changing, now sitting in the corner you had spotted earlier. Your chin rested on your forearms that were leaning on the windowsill. You watched the scenery out side. Fantasizing you and Peter, running and playing in the white, fluffy snow that covered the ground. You couldn’t help but think that you were a fool. How had you fallen so fast for a boy you just met one hour ago? But you could care less. You had never felt this way before, and you intend to make it last. Peter Parker was tattooed into your brain.

And tattoos never go away.

⌫

“What up,” Peter slid into the chair next to the one you sat in. It was the evening by now. You had spent the whole day exploring the avengers tower. Talking to some of the people you saw around. You started to really enjoy it there.

Currently you were sat in the living space, reading a book a lady you had met named Natasha has given you.

“Hey man of spiders.”

“Oh I’m never gonna get tired of you saying that with that voice of yours,” Peter admits. You blush at the complement.

“What you got planned for today?”

“Nothin’” you shrug, setting down your book, looking in to his beautiful eyes that you just couldn’t get enough of. You noticed him get flustered, making you smirk.

“Ok good. Make sure you keep it like that.”

That’s all he said as he quickly walked away, not giving you a chance to answer. You laughed to yourself and went back to your book. You weren’t able to focus on it though. Your mind kept going back to Peter and how much you wanted to kiss him all over and be with him. But you kept telling yourself to wait and that the day would come. You had no idea what he had planned but whatever it was, you were more then ready.

That night you were sitting on your bed, trying to learn how to use the phone Tony had given you that morning. You were in a pair of shorts with fluffy socks and a blue and yellow hoodie that you found on the couch in the room you were in earlier that day.

You herd a loud tapping on you window, causing your head to jolt up and look to see what it was. Walking over to the window you made out the shape that was there. It was peter, but he was holding some mask and wearing a blue and red suite. You assumed that it was his suite for the avengers, remembering that when Tony introduce you, he called him Spider-Man.

Rushing over, you popped the locks and opened the window.

“What the hell dude! You scared the shit out of me,” you whisper shouted at him, causing him to laughing.

“Look, I know I met you yesterday.. and this is the most cliché thing I will ever say. But I like you. Like really really like you. So please, give me this chance?”

You smiled at his words as your cheeks heated with the blood rushing to them. You nodded your head fast, letting out a giggle.

“Oh,” he let out a deep sigh, “good. I was scared you’d say no,” you chuckled nervously.

“Never,” you said with the same smile you had when you first met.

“Best part is, I get to spend the most of my time with you. We’re only seventeen,” he breathed through the grin spread across his face. Cheeks red with blush while his pink lips were chapped from the cold of the snow that fell around him as he stood outside your window.

“Come with me,” he held out his gloved hand,”trust me.”

You took his hand you slowly pulled you through the window.

⌫

You swung around town with your legs wrapped around his waist and you arms around his neck. Small screams leaving your lips whenever you would look down.

Peter landed onto of a very tall tower, letting you slip from his grasp. You stood and gazed at the breath taking view. City lights flashed all around you, cars honking and speeding past. The night sky dark. But the best part was the snow. Everything was covered in the thick white snow. Lifting your head you looked up into the sky at the snow that fell onto you face. Laughing escaped your lips and you spun around and ended up in Peter’s arms once agin.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I forgot you only had on shorts- and my hoodie,” the last part came out in a whisper.

You let a soft smile form, “I’m for Asgard. I can handle a little cold.”

“God I can’t get enough of you,” Peter said as he let his gloved hand slip around you neck as his other went to the small of your back, pulling you hips in to meet his.

Your hands rested on his biceps as one came up to the back of his head. The two of you stared at each other in comfortable silence.

“I really, really wanna kiss you right now.”

“Oh please do it man of spiders,” you both laughed for a second before Peter pulled you in for your lips to meet with his.

Your lips moved in-sync, like they were meant for each other. You felt his thumb slide across your chin before his lips parted from yours. Peter put his thumb on you lower lip, pulling it down as he smiled.

He moved his mother closer to yours, sticking out his tongue, letting it explore every part of your mouth it could reach before letting your lip go, allowing you to kiss back. You moaned into his mouth as you raised your leg to wrap around his waist. He grabbed the back of your thigh and raised it, squeezing it gently. Your lips trails off of his and to his ear as you started you grind you core onto his cock hard.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned into his ear, causing him to groan. His hands traveled to your ass, snaking and groping it.

That’s how you knew he wanted what you wanted just as bad. And oh man did you love being in love, young, dumb and seventeen.

Should I make a part 2… ;) lmk

[silverrstarrr]

extra hand

Update note: Happy spring break loves! Here's a smut I never finished but I still wanted to post it. I'll be taking break from writing eren. I recently started simping for geto Suguru from jjk so😩

Okay, so this is my first smut. I'm just experimenting and playing around with things. I WOULD LOVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, but don't bash me bc I'm a little sensitive and then go off 🥲. Song? Um, don't get mad at me but killshot by Magdalena b. slowed n reverb and no guidance remix, slowed n reverb.😕🦴

Pairings: erenxf!reader, smut!

Warnings: fingering, swearing, idk??

"Fuck!"

You tossed your phone onto the nearby bed in the spawn of annoyance, watching the mobile device bounce up a few times, then settling down into the soft comforter. Why were you irritated? It was because he hasn't texted. Eren Yeager haven't texted you back.

Your relationship with eren was a toxic one. You weren't the type to romanticize or fetishize "toxicness" but here you are, putting yourself in one.

Eren was your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend? The both of you used to talk, met at a dumb frat boy party. This should have raised red flags immediately but you guessed the alcohol was to blame for it.

You guys had a small heated makeout session in one of the corners, away from the crowd. Sadly your friend was vomiting all over the place and had to take your leave.

Slowly you started seeing each other on campus and exchanged numbers. He'd always flirt with you, crack small jokes and was a good listener.

Sometimes he made small gestures and teasing comments that made the tension between you two, very heavy.

You started talking to him more than usual. you were sure eren only gave you his number to call you anytime he was in the mood, which happened often. It was obvious he's been with other women before cause, phew, he knew how to put it down.

Despite being fuck buddies, he was always down to chat and talk about things. You adored everything about him. How unkempt his hair was, the way he'll always ask how you were feeling and was willing to help you–his beautiful jade eyes.

Anytime you were upset with him, he always knew how to catch your attention again. From all this, you caught feelings. Real bad. But eren didn't feel the same, well so you thought.

Eren was walking around campus with another girl, arm slung around her shoulder, him whispering sweet nothings in her ears as you watched her face get red and started laughing. He even took you on small dates to restaurants and hanged out at his dorm.

You stood there dumbfounded. He played you. You guys were never a thing, you didn't understand why you thought you'll be different, he's a fuck boy after all.

He hit you up later that night, wanting to have a sesh in his car. Your emotions were spilled all over the place. you messaged him back questioning about the girl he was with. You sounded so desperate and you hated it.

From the way you were texting he knew you've caught feelings and automatically cut you off.

You were shocked, you hoped for him to just clear things up and tell you those overly used line: "she doesn't mean anything". You know, what most guys tell their girlfriends after being caught cheating.

But that was 4 months ago. He recently got in touch with you two week ago. How dare he just try to slide back into your life as if nothing happened? you were beyond pissed but you still messaged him back anyways. What the fuck? You're just going to get hurt all over again. You guys were chatting for a good week and decided to meet at his dorm.

"Hey y/n, long time no see, huh." He said

you clicked your tongue. "So you just ghost girls out of nowhere and hit them back up whenever you feel like it?" you were absolutely irritated, you wanted to punch his stupid face.

Eren rolled his eyes and let out a tiresome sigh. "It's whatever, get over it. I messaged you back, correct? You should be happy."

He was high. You could already tell by the way he smelled and the reason why he texted you out of the blue.

"Fuck you, Eren." You stormed out of there with your blood rushing. You were so angry but wanted to cry so much. "Whatever"? Was he serious?

You immediately called an uber and went home.

You rented out an apartment with one of your friends from high school. They were out most of the time so you never really saw them.

Automatically, eren was blowing up your phone with text messages. You didn't answer them, and kept him on delivered.

Which didn't last long because early on, on Tuesday, you messaged him back.

He was obviously upset you left him up and dry for a week but got over it.

Now, you're here. Waiting for his reply once again, your last text message was three days ago. It was currently Saturday night, 6:48 pm.

He hasn't responded since Wednesday. Was he going to ghost you again? Maybe he found another girl to mess with? bzzt bzzt You instantly whipped your head back, and stared at your phone's now lightened screen. You had a notification,

From eren.

Unlocking your phone, you checked what he sent.

"Can you come over?"

"pls?"

You read, then reread, then read again. He wanted you to come over? he's doing it again. He's fucking doing it again. He responds three nights later, what the fuck.

You didn't respond at first. Just staring at the open conversations.

You guessed eren saw that you read his text and three dots appeared on the lower left, he was typing.

"y/n, I know I fucked up but please can you respond at least?"

Your thumbs swiped against the keyboard.

"say what? what do I owe you a response for?" You sat down on your bed as the blue bubble sent.

"my phone got messed up, I dropped in it in the rain on my way back from practice. It cracked really bad"

You studied the screen not knowing what to say. You couldn't tell if he was lying or if it was true. But it did rain on Tuesday, so his story wasn't completely untruthful.

"I'll be over in 10"

That's it, you gave in to him. You're just setting yourself up again for another heartbreak.

You decided to prepare yourself. This was going to be a long night

—

You had your jacket on as you stepped out the door. It was still winter, luckily the piled up snow died down.

You quickly jogged to your uber and entered inside. the driver took off shortly after you came in.

The drive was pretty short, he was only ten minutes away. you wished it was longer, so you could lecture yourself for the decision you made.

You hoped out the car and went inside the boys dormitory. His dorm was on the left wing, so you proceed towards that direction.

Eren shared a dorm with Armin, you hoped he was there just in case a heated argument happened because you had a feelings one would come.

Arriving at the hall where all the rooms were at, you walked down the hall checking the numbers, so you'll know which one was his.

You despise that you remembered it as you stood in front of his door.

You pulled out your phone to shoot him a quick "here" to notify your arrival.

Not too long after, a tall brunette opened the door, he immediately grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.

The room was dim and dark, other than the dark purple LD lights.

You felt your back make contact with the door behind you, he snaked his free hand around your waist. He pressed his lips against yours, you could feel his impatience as he tilted his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss.

He pulled away ever so slight and licked the bottom of your lip asking for entrance, so intoxicated by his lust you simply obeyed and parted your mouth slightly. His warm tongue slipping in exploring every inch of your mouth.

You ran your other hand over his black t-shirt trailing up to his neck soon afterwards interlocking your fingers in his brown locks. Although the kiss felt rushed it still made you melt, and gave a small throb down in your area. You slightly tugged on his hair earning you a groan into the heated kiss.

The butterfly’s in your stomach were going on a rampage and your heart was beating out of your chest. He slightly pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths together.

"...eren," you moaned slightly.

He was looking down at you, you were so stunning beneath him—face already flustered from one kiss. he wanted to here his name once more.

traveling down to your neck, he started showering it with wet kisses, and continued traveling down. He reached your collarbone and gave it a small bite, as the skin turned red, your grip in hair grew tighter. You were a mess, already ready feeling slick in between your legs as you rubbed them together, desperate for any sort of friction.

eren slid his hand upwards from your waist to your shirt, his soft hands grazed your bare skin—rubbing slowly, sending shivers down your spine.

you released another breathy moan as he continued at your neck. Hearing you moan was a blessing to him, he couldn't stop thinking about you ever since your last encounter.

He wanted to defile you, run his hands all over your body, touching placing only he knew he had access to—having your fingers intertwined in his long locks as he heard dumb founded mewls, begging him to stop teasing and give you what you wanted.

He pulled himself away from your neck, leaving you stunned at his sudden stop.

" why'd you st-" you were cut off by the jerk at your arm once again. He was taking you to his room as you trailed behind him, not saying a word.

Reaching his room, he pulled you inside, his lips crashed against yours once more, he kicked the door with his foot and closed it, locking the knob.

Your mind was fuzzy, you felt so heated and felt your pussy clench against nothing. You wanted him so bad, his impatience was rubbing off of you. But you couldn't bring yourself to tear away from his mouth, his lips felt so soft against your own. It made you feel wanted by him again, as if he never ghosted you and needed you this whole time.

Your back touched the soft mattress of his bed as he climbed on top of you, you were going haywire. you gave in to him with no obligation whatsoever and was dominanted in response. you can't say you didn't expect this from the moment he decided to text you.

His hands slithered up your shirt, pushing it up, grabing a hold of your breast through the bra. you smiled at his eagerness to touch you, how long has he been like this? using your elbows to support you, you raised your upper back from the bed as his other hand came around and unhooked your bra.

The butterflies in your stomach wouldn't stop, the warmth from his body felt attonishing against your own. sloppy kisses smothered across your lips, each break releasing a moan from one another, hearing throughout the room.

You laid back down as his hand large hands began fondling with your breast, your nipples were already hard from all the foreplay.

Eren hips started to grind against your pelvis,

"Fuck..." he moaned out, his face was already red, blushing like a dumb teenage virgin.

You break the kiss and sat up to remove your shirt, eren gave you space to do so–moving back a little. You tossed it on the floor, on the otherside of the bed, along with your bra, which was sitting next to you since eren took it off. You knocked you shoes off as well.

You immediately leaned towards eren wrapping your arms around his neck, lips already on his own, making him fall towards your direction—giving you a chance to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back made contact with the mattress once again and you moved your hips, grinding your heated core against his crotch.

"Dammit y/n...fuck, I can't stand this...when you do this to me."

Eren followed the same action as you. Releasing small moans and you both continued to dry hump one another.

You tugged at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. You didn't like it when you were the only bare and he knew this, a small chuckled erupted from his throat as he got on his knees–hands grasping the hem of the shirt, tugging it over his head.

You laid there in awe, he still kept his shape after all these months. You guessed those practices were really paying off. Your hand trailed up his torso, feeling his sculpture chest beneath your palm. His skin was so soft, you drifted your hand back down, passing over his abs.

"You like what you see?" he said smirking down at you.

"Shut up." you spat out.

Eren moved back down to your chest and took a hold of your breast, bringing his mouth to your nipple–while his other hand supported his weight. He gave it a long lick eyes flickering up at you, checking your reaction. His mouth was warm, his heavy breath touching your skin while he decided to play with your nipple.

You released small grunts as his red tongue swirled around your perked bud, closing his mouth then releasing it—leaving kisses and bite marks all around your breast. You were prepared for all the purplish marks you'll in the morning, you prayed you had your ointment at home.

Using his other hand, he slid his hand down your stomach, earning another moan from you. His touch felt so ethereal, this was what your body was craving for all these months.

His hand slid past your joggings, making contact with your cotton underwear. He dipped his fingers between your lips, gathering the slick that was leaking from your heat. His fingers brushed against your clit, as you moaned his name,

"eren—hnng, stop teasing—"

His only response was a smirk as he released his lips from your nipple with a wet pop sound.

"look how wet you are for me, hm? what happened to that attitude that you're so keen of?" his index finger continued to rub against your entrance, your clit getting some friction in the process. His middle finger plunge into your hole, sliding is easily from the lubrication of your wetness as he began pumping his finger in a steady motion, each stroke going deeper and deeper, stretching you out.

"nnghh—fuck eren..." your voice pitched at a higher tone for a moment.

you haven't felt like this is a while, his long digit fitted perfectly into your hole.

"hm? look how tight you pussy has gotten without me, can't wait to feel you around me."

Eren pulled his finger out, using his index to spread open your lips, then gathered some more slick as both fingers went inside.

He was prepping you up for his length, since you haven't had sex in a while. His fingers started to scissor you, both spreading out in your core—stretching you out even more.

Your hand immediately went for his hair and tugged at it with a grunt, eren moaned at your aggressiveness with his brunette locks.

"s-stop...mfhh." another soft mewl escaped your lips.

Eren pulled out his fingers and rested them in your panties.

"Stop?" He knew what you meant, he always does. his eyebrow turned to an arch, waiting an answer.

"m'didn't mean for you...to," you couldn't form a sentence, your mind was so hazy from the heated atmosphere between you two. you wanted his touch again, you hated the feeling of you clenching around nothing.

eren gave your chest a few pecks, then one at your neck close to your jaw.

"use your words, y/n." man, he was enjoying this too well. He missed this part of you so bad, having you a complete mess under his touch.

"I want you inside of me." The last word was spoken in a lower tone, you were embarrassed. Never knew you'll hear those words come from your mouth again.

"Good girl." He bought his fingers up to his mouth as he sucked on them, swirlying his pink tongue around his digits while directly making eye contact with you. Releasing them with another wet pop, he start to work on his joggers.

Moving off of you, he swing his legs to the edge of bed, pullng down his gray sweats as it hits the floor–slides it across the floor. He did the same with his boxers.

You did the same, taking off your bottoms along with your damp panties, placing it over with your other clothing.

erens cock slapped against his abdominal, precum already dripping from the slit of head.

He gave himself a few strokes, groaning loudly as he shifted back to your direction. Settling between your legs, he uses his hand to trace his pink tip between your folds, slipping between your lips constantly—gathering lubrication.

"m'mfgh...stop teasing eren," your chest was heavy with anticipation, you wanted him inside you so bad. His free rest on your bended knee, his fingers drawing circles.

"shhh, y/n—I know." He coos.

Finally, he dipped his cock into your seeping hole as your velvety walls draw him in–not giving him a chance to adjust from tight you were. You both moan in unison, feeling contentment, getting what you guys wanted you at last.

" hnng, you're so tight...shit," erens eye closed shut while he pushed the rest of his length inside you. Even after stretching you out with his fingers, you were still tight and eren enjoyed every second of it.

Once he was in all the way, his cock was a snug fit—he waited for you to adjust so he could move.

Your chest now heaving up and down, you give a little nod—signaling it was okay to move. Drawing his hips back, he slid out of your core completely and immediately thrusted forward entering back to your wet core.

Eren began thrusting into you at a steady pace as his both of his hands grabbed your legs, resting them behind your knee.

You knew it'll be a long night.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

update note: HAHAHA IM BACK GUYS MORE FANFICS. I'm finally on spring break 😭

[orangeoctopi7]

Buzzfeed Unsolved: The Suspicious Crash of Stanley Pines

The theme for @stanuary week 3 is Crime... what about... TRUE CRIME? I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved this last summer, so I’ve been wanting to do something like this.

If you don’t watch Buzzfeed Unsolved, this is probably gonna seem like a lot of rambling.

On the morning of July Fourth, 1982 in the sleepy logging town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, there was a firey explosion that wasn't part of the fireworks and festivities. A car had gone over the edge of the town's famed floating cliffs.

"Floating cliffs?" Shane asked

"They're like, giant overhangs. They're not just floating up in the middle of the air like Pandora or something." Ryan explained, showing Shane a photo on his phone.

"Oh, that's pretty."

"It is really pretty."

"What a beautiful place for a car to careen over a cliff."

Ryan cracked up.

"You get a lovely view as you plummet to your death." Shane imagined.

Between 6:15 and 6:20 PM, the Gravity Falls Police Department received six separate calls reporting seeing a yellow car in flames drive off the edge of the cliff and crash to the valley below.

When investigators arrived on the scene, they found the remains of a crushed and burnt 1971 Subaru DL Coupe. The police report notes finding that the brakes were cut, and evidence of gasoline being poured into the driver’s seat to start the fire. Strangest of all, no body was found in or around the crash, only a few burnt strands of hair.

“So, right off the bat, real suspicious.” Shane commented.

“Yeah, and it only gets more suspicious from here.” Ryan assured his co-host.

“And I’m assuming there’s no chance that they guy, y’know, got up and walked away from the crash?” 

“Oh, no, no way. You saw the picture of the cliffs.”

“Oh yeah, no way.”

“There’s no way anyone in the car would have survived that fall.”

“And it was on fire.”

“And it was on fire.”

Despite the lack of a body, the police determined from the few burnt strands of hair and an anonymous tip they received at 6:15 PM on the day of the crash, the driver of the car was one Stanley Pines, a 31 year old man from Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Allegedly, he had been coming to Gravity Falls, Oregon to visit his twin brother, Stanford, who lived just a ten minute drive from the cliff Stan’s car had driven off.

“Wait, wait, wait--” Shane interrupted Ryan’s explanation, “Twin brothers. Named Stanley and Stanford.”

“Yeah.”

“Who the f___ names their kids like that?”

“I know, right?”

“Were they identical twins?”

“Uh, I couldn’t find anything saying they were definitely genetically identical, but, uh, with the way this case goes, it’s safe to assume they were identical enough.”

“Yikes, I feel sorry for them growing up, can you imagine how often people got them mixed up?”

“Yeah, but imagine the kinds of shenanigans they must have gotten up to!”

“Oh, that’s true. There would have been plenty of shenanigans. Lots and lots of shenanigans.”

“If you had twins, would you give them cutesy twin names?” Ryan asked.

“No.” Shane answered firmly.

“I think I’d just do like, alliterative names. Nothing too similar.” 

“Yeah, no I think twins probably have to deal with enough confusion bull___ without having to throw similar names or the same initials into the mix.”

“Interestingly enough…” Ryan started.

“Yeah, I’m guessing from your comments that the twin thing plays into this.”

When interviewed by the police, Stanford claimed his brother never arrived at his house. However, testimonies of other townsfolk reported seeing a red 1967 El Diablo with a distinctive “STNLYMBL” vanity license plate driving up the road to Stanford’s house earlier that winter. The house is out in the woods, isolated from the rest of the town, so no one would drive up that way unless they were going to see the cabin.

“Well what if they just wanted to take a walk out in the woods?” Shane countered.

“It was in early February.” 

“Snowshoeing.”

“In a blizzard.”

“Ok, you do not have a weather report for the exact day they saw this car!”

“Two of the testimonies mention there was a snow storm that day. Plus, the license plate says STANLEY MOBILE.”

“Well, Stanley is a fairly common name.”

“You-you’re just being contrary to bug me now, aren’t you?” Ryan accused.

Shane just grinned.

What’s more, that same red El Diablo was the car Stanford now drove. 

“What!?” Shane laughed with disbelief for a moment before putting on a mocking tone. “Uh, yeah, he never showed up, but, uh, I have his car. I’m still driving it. Y’know, seemed like a waste to just let it sit in the driveway.”

“He didn’t even change the license plate.” Ryan added.

“Oh, of course not!” Shane said sarcastically. “Why go through all that trouble?”

Upon further inspection, the car that crashed was registered to Stanford, and had been reported totaled almost seven years prior.

“It’s interesting that they say it was totaled.” Ryan commented. “Because totalled just means that the damage is more expensive to fix than the car is worth, so it could have still been drivable.”

“And if you’re trying to fake a car crash, what better to use than an already worthless car?” Shane agreed. 

“Exactly.”

Stanley Pines was declared dead by auto accident and the case was closed in September of 1982, due to lack of evidence and quote: “A lack of interest from the involved parties”.

“A lack of interest from the involved parties!? What the h___ does that even mean?” Shane asked in bewilderment.

“It’s odd, to be sure.”

It’s when we look into the background of the presumed dead Stanley, and his brother Stanford, that this case becomes truly bizarre. 

Stanley Pines left home at the age of 17, and had brief but unsuccessful careers as an amature prize fighter and as a salesman, before he turned to a life of crime. Prior to his reported death, he had been in prison five times, in three different countries, and had lived under at least eight different assumed names, with several others that were never confirmed. He had known ties to the mob and drug cartels.

“Quite the shady character. That might explain why the police didn’t look too closely into his ‘death’.” Shane put air quotes around “death”.

“Well, does it? I mean, if they thought his death might have been related to the mob…” Ryan argued.

“They know better than to mess with the mob, even in Oregon.”

“I mean, we have seen in several past True Crime episodes, what can happen if you mess with the mob.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You don’t wanna do it.”

“Nope.”

His brother Stanford was no less strange. He was born with fully-functional polydactyly, meaning he had six fingers on each hand. It’s worth noting that after 1982, Stanford no longer had 6 fingers. He claims that he had them surgically removed, because, quote: “I was sick of people staring.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Shane said doubtfully.

“You don’t believe that explanation?”

“Let’s just say I find it highly suspect.”

Stanford was also a certified genius, graduating with the most PhDs Backupsmore University had ever awarded. As a graduate student, he worked as a researcher and inventor for the US Government. Some sources say he worked on top-secret experiments. 

In 1975, he received a $100,000 research grant, which he used to move to Gravity Falls and become a Paranormal Researcher. When he arrived in Gravity Falls, he was the subject of many rumors throughout the town, due to his reclusive nature and strange area of study. 

“Oh, so this guy was basically you.” Shane pointed out.

“He’s basically me if I didn’t have you.” Ryan agreed.

“Awww, that’s sweet!” Shane placed a hand over his heart.

Many residents reported seeing strange lights coming from Stanford’s home in the woods starting almost as soon as he moved in, as well as strange sounds.

“Well, it seems like Gravity Falls is a pretty small town. People gossip.” Shane reasoned.

“Ok, yeah, but people gossip about who’s cheating on who, or what business secretly sells drugs out the back. They don’t gossip about strange lights coming out of the new neighbor’s basement.”

“They could. It’s gossip. Gossip can be about anything.”

Reports of the lights stopped in late January of 1982. Just four months later, in March, Stanford began opening up his home for tours, and in a matter of weeks, transformed his home into a tourist stop called the “Murder Hut.”

“Oh my g__.” Shane stifled a laugh. “A little on the nose there, don’t you think?”

“He did rename it to the Mystery Shack about a year later.”

“Hmm, yeah I wonder why?” Shane asked facetiously. 

Stanford also exhibited paranoid behavior on several occasions before the crash, especially in the early months of 1982.

One local reported seeing Stanford screaming “No it isn’t, you creeps! I can see you just fine!” down an alleyway. Several other eyewitnesses reported seeing him fall out of his seat at the Triple Digits Truck Stop Diner on Route 14 and scream for something to “get out of his mind” before fleeing the building.

“So, he definitely seemed to think something was out to get him.” Ryan commented.

“Not the words of a sane man.”

“Unless something really was out to get him.”

“Eeeeh, even then…” Shane wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. 

Dan Corduroy, one of the few people who had regular contact with Stanford before he opened the Mystery Shack, had this to say about the sudden change from research lab to tourist trap:

“Oh, he’s definitely been acting differently. He was really shy before, hard to talk to even. He seemed uncomfortable spending a lot of time with people. I’d invite him over to one of my family’s cabins to visit, but he only ever wanted to visit the haunted one while we were all out of town. I’d say it was a good change, though. It wasn’t good for him to be alone all the time like that. I’m glad he’s finally spending time with other people.”

“He only wanted to visit our haunted cabin.” Shane repeated with disbelief. “Hey, do you wanna come over to visit one of our cabins?” He put on a voice. “Uh, that depends, what kind of cabins have you got?’ ‘Well there’s one by the lake, one with a nice view of the valley, and one that’s haunted.’ ‘Oh, I’ll take the haunted one!”

“What gets me is he only wanted to visit the haunted cabin while everyone else was out of town. We’ve stayed in our fair share of haunted places, and it was bad enough staying overnight, just me and you, but there is nothing that could convince me to spend the night in one of those places all by myself.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure none of the places we’ve been to have actually been haunted, but I see what you mean. It’s not fun to go to a haunted house by yourself. It’s kinda boring.”

“Um, we’re not gonna get into this discussion now, because we still haven’t even gotten to the theories yet, but you’re wrong.”

The case came to light again in August of 2012, when Federal agents arrested Stanford Pines, and detained him for several hours for questioning. By the next day, he had been released, and officials stated that his arrest had been due to a false lead. What exactly that false lead was, however, was never stated.

Now that we’ve gone over the extensive background of this case, let’s get into the theories of what really happened that 4th of July in 1982.

Theory #1: The theory put forth by the police, that Stanley Pines died in a fiery car accident.

“So then how do they explain what happened to the body?” Shane asked.

“It doesn’t say.” Ryan.

“And why were the breaks cut?”

“No explanation given.”

“That’s a stupid theory, those cops ought to be fired.”

Ryan stifled a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

Theory #2: That Stanley killed his brother, made it look like his own death, and took over his brother’s life. This would explain the loss of his extra fingers, the sudden change in behavior that led him to open up the Mystery Shack, and his sudden acquisition of Stanley’s car. It does not, however, explain the lack of a body in the crash.

“He could have disposed of his brother’s body somewhere else, and then just like, left an ice block on the gas pedal and let the car run itself off the cliff.” Shane theorized.

“That’s possible. I was also thinking, maybe the body was gone. Maybe Stanley didn’t necessarily kill Stanford, maybe they met up in the woods, Stanford got eaten by a bear, and Stanley, who was already in trouble with the mob, took advantage of the situation, and faked his own death.”

“How--why did you work your fear of bears into this?” 

“That’s just my variation on this theory.”

“Then why all the secrecy? Why not say that he was the one who got eaten by the bear? Why fake the car crash and then say his brother never showed up?”

“Because if the mob knew he’d talked to his brother before he died, maybe they’d come question him?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a possibility.”

Theory #3: That Stanford killed Stanley and made it look like an accident. People who support this theory say the psychological trauma and guilt of killing his own brother may have driven Stanford to change his appearance and behavior to more closely resemble that of his dead brother.

“That’s… kind of a stretch.” Shane said slowly. “I feel like, Occam's Razor, theory 2 is more plausible.”

“What makes you say that one’s more plausible?”

“I dunno, just saying ‘He killed his brother and took his place’ seems a lot more likely than ‘The other brother killed him and the guilt drove him to act like his brother. I don’t think that’s how psychology works.”

Theory #4: Both brothers are still alive. Stanley, on the run from the mob, came to his brother Stanford for help. Meanwhile, Stanford was worried about someone or something that was out to get him. They came to a solution that would solve both their problems: switching places. They would fake Stanley’s death, throwing the mob off of Stanley’s trail. Then, Stanley would take Stanford’s place in the public eye, while Stanford went into hiding.

This theory is supported by photos that surfaced on Facebook in 2012. Several photos of Gravity Falls after a series of earthquakes did extensive damage to the town show what is supposed to be Stanford. However, another man that looks just like him is seen standing in the background. Interestingly enough, both mens’ hands are obscured in all of these photos. 

While the photos haven’t been analysed by any professionals to definitively determine if either of the men are Stanley Pines, it has been determined that the photos are not edited.

“Would the whole photo recognition software even work on identical twins?” Ryan wondered.

“I don’t think so?” Shane answered unsurely. “I mean, my Facebook facial recognition auto-tag doesn’t even recognize my mom half the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised if twins throw it off.”

“Just looking at some of these photos yourself, what do you think?” Ryan handed a few print-outs from his folder to Shane.

“Oh wow, yeah, they do look alike.” Shane nodded. “Alright, yeah, I’m convinced. We solved it, guys! Video over!”

“We actually do have one more theory.” Ryan informed him.

Theory #5: Stanford was abducted by aliens.

“Oh for f___’s sake--” Shane threw his hands up in frustration. “We have four perfectly good, plausible explanations, and you have to throw that in!”

“This one actually does have some evidence behind it.”

“Bull____, but go on.”

Stanford was a professional paranormal researcher. Although he was very secretive about his research, even to his grant committee, some of his research notes do list looking for proof of ancient aliens visiting the valley before European contact. Could it be the thing he was afraid of was aliens?

“... That’s it?” Shane asked. “When you said this one actually had some evidence behind it, I thought you meant there was a UFO sighting in the same area around the same time.”

“The negative space between the floating cliffs kinda looks like a UFO” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean a random researcher in the 80’s was abducted by aliens! That’s like, if I found a ransom note for you in the office, but I said ‘Well, Ryan was afraid of bears. Bears used to live in California, there’s one on the state flag outside our building. He must have been eaten by a bear.’ That’s the kind of leap in logic we’re talking about!”

Was this a case of fratricide? Or is this the longest and most elaborate twin switch of all time? For now, this case remains… UNSOLVED.

 * * *

“It was really hard for me to stay on topic while I was researching this one.” Ryan admitted as they wrapped things up. “There is a lot of weird stuff related to Gravity Falls, we should go there for an episode one of these days.”

“I’d love to do that, it looks like a beautiful place to visit.” Shane agreed. “Are you sure you wanna do that though? It seems like the place is crawling with haunted cabins and bears.”

“Well, one could argue this entire series is about me conquering my fears, so… Why not?”

[random-imagines-blog]

Love Peas {Hiram Lodge x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 1894 Summary: Hiram comes home after a very rough night. Notes: Mentions of death

Shifting under the covers, you heard a noise coming from downstairs. The house was usually quiet save for the murmur of the appliances and electronics, a sound that you had gotten used to over the months of living here with your boyfriend, Hiram. So each and every footstep on the ground sounded like a racket. You laid still, expecting the security system to trigger, saying that there was an intruder, but it did no such thing. The power was still on, you could hear the hum still, that little electrical buzz that was your constant background noise. So that meant whoever was in your house had the keycode. Hiram.

There was even more clamor from downstairs. A groaning sound. Now you knew for sure it was Hiram. You’ve heard him, unfortunately, be in pain on more than one occasion through your relationship. It was the price that he paid for being in the ‘business’ that he was.

You swept the blankets off of you, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. You pulled your robe closed over your pajamas as you made your way quickly to the door, through the hallway, and then started down the stairs to see what the damage was this time. You were always terrified that he was going to come home covered in blood, battered beyond repair. That you were going to hold him and hear nothing but the death rattle right before he would be gone. It was a scene that ran through your nightmares. A scene that if it were in front of you, you were ill-prepared to deal with.

There was nothing lazy, or just-woken up about your movements. Foot descending after foot on the runner of the stairs, keeping the chilliness of the hard floors at bay. Through the moonlight coming in through the windows, you were able to see a form just slipping out of the foyer, making it’s way to the kitchens. “Hiram?" You asked, reaching the bottom of the staircase and turning to follow. He was hurt, though there was no blood on the floor. There wasn’t a trail leading after him. But by the way that his leg was sliding behind him, it looked like it was broken at the very least. You flicked the switch and the kitchen came to life with bright lights, revealing everything. Under those florescent s, there was no room to hide.

Though Hiram was trying pretty hard to hide.

He sat down on the floor, head leaning back against the wooden cabinets. He was bruised, but that was an understatement. He was severely bruised. Black eye. Split lip. His usually perfect hair was tousled in a not-unattractive way but the very fact that he hadn’t immediately took a come to it scared you a little. If that was the state of his face, you were very concerned about the rest of him. You got down on your knees next to him, ignoring the discomfort, nervous to even touch him. He looked like he would break if he did.

“I can explain...” Hiram started off by saying, but then realized that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one. He’d look up into your face, and then would immediately try to cut off the eye contact, looking down at the ground instead.

“I think this is going a bit beyond the first aid box’s capabilities,” You winced upon seeing the other side of his face. Oh lord, even that eye was starting to swell up. He was close to being a human bruise at this point. That poor, gorgeous face of his. “Maybe we should get you to a hospital. Is anything broken? How did you get home?”

“Cab,” Hiram admitted, ignoring your first question. “The driver was - taking care of things while I left.”

“Christ, Hiram,” You groaned. You got up to your feet, dashing towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit that was in there. The amount of times that you had to replace this thing. The pharmacy probably thought that you were in an abusive relationship. You came back to see that he hardly moved, other than to wipe a bit of blood that was coming from the deep cut in his bottom lip. You sat back down beside him, opened up the first aid kit, tore into a package that contained an alcohol wipe and started to blot.

“Do we got any ice packs?” Hiram moaned. You stood up to go and check, looking through the contents of the freezer. You rummaged past the frozen vegetables, frozen pizzas, bottles of alcohol to find that - no, there were no ice packs in the freezer.

“Have to do with some vegetables,” You said, grabbing a bag of frozen peas. You held it up to his face, pressing it as tenderly as you could against the rougher looking eye. He hissed, and brought his hand up to grab it, only to show you how damaged that looked too. Bloody knuckles were the least of his worries. “We’re going to have to get that looked at,” You said, pointing towards his hand.

“It’s fine,” He muttered, letting it rest on the bag, which was resting on his face. It looked like it hurt. You didn’t know how he wasn’t crying out for a hospital. You would be if you sustained even half of those injuries.

“As much as we love peas in this house, I don’t think they’re going to be granting you any miracles,” You said, and went back to dabbing with the alcohol wipe. “Your lip is going to need stitches. The cuts too big. It won’t heal right.” “So call my Doctor,” Hiram growled, grumpily. By instinct, you slapped the top of his thigh, making him gasp out in pain and drop the frozen bag onto the ground. It broke open, the little green vegetables scattering across the tiled floor.

“I don’t care how hurt you are, you don’t talk to me like that,” You said, shaking your finger in his face. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t know how many more of these you can take before you have some serious internal injuries. Even Houdini died from a punch to the stomach, and you’re not nearly as good at escaping trouble as he is.”

“Mi amor, comparing me to a dead man,” Hiram groaned, pushing peas off of his lap. You got up again, your legs getting a work out from all of the squats that you were doing tonight, and grabbed another bag of frozen peas. It was weird that there were so many, but even rich people buy stuff that’s on sale sometimes. It’s how you stayed rich.

“You keep this up and you will be a dead man,” You quipped, putting the fresh bag on his face, holding it this time instead of letting him do it. “At least let me look at you, please?”

He finally gave a nod, and you slowly lifted his shirt to see all of the markings and bruises that were on his abdomen. His torso looked like a Jackson Pollock painting with the different shades of colors everywhere. You winced, bringing the shirt back down. You really hated seeing him look like this. You’ve been pleading with him to retire since the last time that he had received a beating like this. Or at the very least, hire someone younger to take his place in these fights. He was getting too old for this. “You should see the other guys,” He quipped.

“I don’t doubt it. And what were they - half your age?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, moving the bag from one eye to the other. “Hiram, my love, don’t you think it’s about time that you think about retiring? We can move away from Riverdale. We can get a spot on the beach somewhere, where it never snows. Where it’s never warm. Where the only damage you have to worry about is getting too much sun. Getting burned. But I’ll take care of you and always put sunscreen on you. Aloe vera if you do end up getting burned. Just - think about it, okay? For me?”

“I can’t give up my business like that,” Hiram shook his head, not even considering the possibility. You sighed. You knew that was going to be his answer. You hadn’t been expecting anything else. And yet you were still disappointed. As per usual. “I cannot be seen as weak or everything that I’ve done so far will have been for nothing. All of that work. I can’t pull out yet.”

“Of course you can’t,” You sighed. “At the very least, can you plan on it in the future? I don’t want to be putting this bag on your eyes when you’re well into your seventies.”

“Do you think we’ll still love peas then, mi amor?” He asked, breaking into a smile despite what must be a lot of pain, especially in his lip area.

“I think the better question is will I still love you them,” You teased. pressing a kiss onto one of the few parts of his face that wasn’t mottled with bruises. “But yes, to both. These are lovepeas, don’t you know. Rumor says that if you put them on the black eye of the person that you love, you’ll be together until the ends of the Earth. Or until there are no more peas. But given how the bees are dying out, that might not even be until the ends of the earth.”

“And your creativity is why I love you, and why I always come home,” Hiram said, taking your wrists around his hands. You smiled gently, loving that he cared about the weird side of you. Not just the well made-up person who was always by his side at work events. He always had a way of making you feel like you were someone special. Someone worth adoring.

Now if only you could actually get him out of the criminal business and move somewhere like Mexico where you can lie on the beach together.

“Do you love me enough to let me leave for a moment to call the Doctor? I am worried about this lip of yours. I need it stitched up and better so I can kiss you again.”

“Yes, I suppose I love you that much.” His thumbs would rub at the underside of your wrists for a moment, and then he would gently release you so you could get up and walk back to the bedroom where your cellphone was waiting. Even leaving him that long seemed like an eternity. You called the doctor while you were on your way back down the stairs, hanging up as you entered the kitchen, just in time to see Hiram picking one of the frozen peas off of the ground and popping it into his mouth.

“What are you doing?” You asked, going for the broom and dustpan to finally clean that mess up.

“Oh, I thought these were the feel-better peas. You eat a couple and then you feel all better until the end of time?” He’d ask, showing his very rare funny side. You laughed and shook your head.

“Let me clean these up then I’ll get you to your chair. The doctor is on his way.”

[mctherofdragons]

A Sanctuary Heart | 3 | SR

summary / after her abusive husband lands her in the intensive care unit, y/n changes her identity and moves as far away as possible. upon starting her new life, she meets dr.spencer reid and his son, maddox, when she begins her job as a teacher. but can she keep herself safe and keep up the facade with spencer? can she be safe at all?

pairing / spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings / slowburn romance, fluff, angst, marriage, trauma, domestic violence/abuse, dad!spencer, wheelchair use, paralysis, injury, ptsd flashbacks, car accident/serious injury, bullying, mention of ableism, a singular mention of god.

important links / series masterlist + domestic violence resources

authors note / i absolutely adored writing this chapter, omg. we get more of spencer and maddox's backstory. and things start to get a little more exciting as the rest of the team makes their first appearance! thank you all for the great feedback so far, i'm so glad you're enjoying the series. also my tags are not working, so reblogs on this chapter would be insanely appreciated. Flashbacks are in italics!

Seeing the blood on your hand, Spencer instinctively reached out to grab your wrist gently. You snatched your hand back, bringing yourself up to your feet, wobbling. You grabbed your bag, wrapping your hand in your scarf that you had managed to take off in the cool October night.“Ivy,” he said the moniker one more time and you felt your insides reel once more.

‘I’m a liar, Dr. Reid, I wish you knew,’ you thought to yourself, stumbling to search for your keys under the warm glow of the moon.

“I have to go. Thank you for dinner,” you contended, making your way out of the side gate. Spencer watched in confusion as you made your way out quickly. He figured he ought to chose his battles, not wanting to startle you by following after you.

Once you were safe inside your car, you sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. You felt a sharp combination of embarrassment and frustration. You wanted the flit of light that came from the possibility of new love. But instead, the one before had taken everything from you. Even now, all these miles and a new name away, he was pulling you away from those little flickers of brilliance and back into the darkness of yourself.

_____________________________

2 years earlier.

“Maddox,” Spencer whispered, feeling his heavy eyelids open just slightly. He was disoriented, noticing that the once right-side-up roadway was now upside down instead. The loud blaring of the horn was constant. It sent a piercing sound into Spencer’s ears and head, which caused him to wince. “Maddox.”

Spencer tried to turn, but he couldn’t move. Something had him pinned in the driver’s seat. He looked into the review mirror, which by grace alone wasn’t entirely broken. Maddox was slumped in his car seat, blood trickling down onto his Toy Story tee shirt. Spencer let out a weak gasp, trying again with no avail to move.

Spencer noticed how cold it was. It had been snowing all night, and Spencer wasn’t sure how long they had been where they are now. The snow had fallen through the shattered glass, tiny flakes gathering anywhere they could.

Using all of his strength, he turned his head to his wife. Her eyes were half shut, a trickle of crimson come from her mouth.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered. “Are you alright?”

She began to speak, but began to sputter, her lungs sounding flooded. Her hand curled and uncurled, and Spencer could barely reach it. He was able to hold onto her fingertips with his. They felt ice-cold like she was already three steps into Eternity. Spencer knew that type of frigid touch. He had come in content with it a million times, and the person on the other end was never living.

“D-don’t talk, baby. Okay? The ambulance is coming. Do you hear them? We’re going to be okay.”

Spencer could hear the medics somewhere far off in the distance. The repeated echo of the sirens sounded like a band of angels to him. Spencer Reid admittedly didn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian God. He wasn’t sure what he gave credence to, in fact. But at that moment, inverted in the shattered glass, surrounded by the labored breathing of his dying wife...he prayed.

________________________________

Spencer walked into the Bureau, adjusting the brown satchel on his shoulder. His brow looked furrowed as he sipped from his paper coffee cup. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you left, trying to profile what exactly had gone wrong between the Merlot and you rushing out of his backyard.

“Penny for your thoughts?,” Emily piqued as Spencer sat down, tossing his bag onto his desk. Spencer let out an exasperating sigh, taking another drink of his coffee.

“Just trying to figure someone out.”

“Oh, oh, oh. Is this a lady someone?,” Derek queried, wiggling his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning onto Spencer’s desk with a sparkling grin.

“Maybe.”

Spencer felt himself smiling despite his best efforts. Emily opened her mouth in surprise, giving Derek a playful shove.

“I told you he would get back out there, Morgan!”

Spencer smiled. “Yeah, she’s sweet. I just...don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

That morning, Spencer had put on his wedding band. He still did it when he was scared, or nervous, or needing to feel close to her. He would feel the cool metal atop his finger and feel less alone. For a brief moment when the metallic touched his skin, he could pretend she was still here.

Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“I hope you know me and Prentiss are just messing with you. We care about you, kid. We know these past two years have been hell for you. Just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah…I appreciate that. I just…,” Spencer paused, bringing his hands up as he spoke, as was so akin to him. His lip curled into the smallest smile. “Seeing this girl interact with Maddox. She...loves him for him..already?”

“Maddox is a great kid, Reid.”

“I know. I just don’t want her to find out---”

Spencer’s sentence was cut off by Hotch appeared, letting everyone know they had a case and to meet for Round Table. Spencer quickly shot a text to Maddox’s home health nurse, letting her know he’d need coverage for a few days.

________________________________

You sat in the front of your classroom, your eyes scanning from the test in front of you to the answer key. The students were working on a Social Studies project in small groups. Their task was to read a short story about colonial times and fill out a short worksheet. If they finished early they were permitted to color, which most of the children thoroughly enjoyed.

“Maddox can’t use crayons,” you heard a small voice snicker. You raised your eyebrow, hoping it wasn’t harmful, and rather just an observation.

You heard another child sling a slur at Maddox, who was sitting quietly with his aide, trying to ignore them. But as you looked up, you saw Maddox’s tiny bottom lip begin to wobble. One of the children picked up a crayon and threw it at Maddox, hitting him in the shoulder.

“He can’t even feel that! My dad said that’s why he’s in a wheelchair,” the bully jeered again, high-fiving his friend.

You stood up with a loud squeak of your chair against the linoleum floor.

“You two. Principals office. Now.”

The rest of the class erupted in a chorus of childish ‘ooo’s. You clapped your hands together - your universal signal to quiet down.

“I did not ask for comments from the audience,” you scolded. The children settled down, going back to their work, whispering amongst one another.

“Maddox, come talk to me in the hallway,” you offered. Tears were rolling down Maddox’s cheeks. His aide reached over with a tissue to wipe them, but he turned his face away, one of the only ways he could physically set a boundary.

Maddox’s aide helped him into the hallway and then left the two of you alone. You sat down on one of the small, metal benches in the hallway. At this angle, you were about Maddox’s height. He was blubbering, trying to take deep breaths as more tears came. You pulled a small, clean, cloth handkerchief from your pocket. He let you dab his cheeks, giving him a gentle click of the tongue.

“Buddy, do you want to talk about it?”

“T-they’re so m..m..mean to me,” he whimpered, closing his eyes as more tears fell. “And, and, and I can’t play with them even, that’s why. I can’t do anything!”

You nodded empathetically, gently catching more of Maddox’s tears.

“I hate school! My daddy wants me to like school. It’s all he talks about. I hate him!”

“Maddox,” you softly redirected. “That’s not very nice. You don’t hate your dad.”

Maddox looked a deep breath. You smiled, knowing Spencer must have taught him to do that when he was upset.

“You’re right. But I’m sad, and I wanna go home.”

You sighed, reaching up to blot the little bit of redness still present on Maddox’s cheeks. You adjusted his glasses, moving some of his curly brown hair from underneath the metal.

“Just a few more hours, okay? We have library at the end of the day.”

Maddox’s face lit up, his apple cheeks glowing beneath the rims of his glasses. “Library!”

“Yes, and just for this week, you can take home two books.”

______________________________

Spencer felt distracted the entire flight to Vermont. He knew he was going to be far away for a while, and that Maddox wouldn’t know until he got out of school for the day. The agent detested when he had to leave without Maddox knowing in advance, but it was usually impossible given the nature of things. Thankfully, Reid had a good setup of support through healthcare and respite so Maddox never went without someone to care for him.

Then, there was you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your reaction. He had seen it before in abuse victims. The way you flinched when he moved too fast, the apologizing like your life depended on it, even the way you looked at him with pleading eyes, desperate to avoid a blow. He bridged his fingers together, thinking to himself for a moment.

With that, he stood up, making his way to the back of the plane. He unlocked his phone while he chewed his fingernail with his free hand. Before he knew it, he was calling Garcia.

“Penelope. Hey, I need a favor. A personal one. If you could keep it between us, that would be great.”

“Anything for you, my precious string bean.”

Spencer laughed. “I need you to get all the information you can on someone. Ivy Porter.”

“Ivy Porter. That’s like a movie star name. What did she do?”

“Um..nothing, I don’t think. Just call me when you’ve got something, and email me everything you find.”

“You got it. Every in and out of Ms. Ivy Porter coming to you soon. Be safe. Talk soon.”

With that, Penelope clicked off of the call. Spencer sat back down, anxiously waiting for whatever information Penelope could find about you.

___________

series/criminal minds taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @rainbows-dreams @bvttercupbby @k-k0129 @rexit-mo @britishspidey @graciehams @manuosorioh @shemarmooresfedora @big-galaxy-chaos @thatoneszesty13 @ssavanessa22 @awritingtree @sweetandsunny​ @rainsong01 @kuolonsyoja @taralewiz @bluelittleblackgirl @asexual-booknerd @the-wolfie

[pascalpanic]

Alpha Beta Charlie- A Frankie Morales Story

Summary: Frankie is a lonely man with a big heart. His life changes when a new girl comes into his life.

W/C: 4.1k

Warnings: This one is a little heavy. Lots of language, talk of poor mental health (Frankie has depression and anxiety), Frankie’s recovering from a coke addiction, alcohol is prevalent here, harm to animals, lots of talk of blood and injuries.

A/N: This story is different than I normally write. There’s no reader in the story, this is just a story about Frankie Morales and a moment in his life. Please note that this is darker as it centers around an injured animal. Be warned of that. P.S. some of my friends might see ur names in here :) thank u to all of my friends who helped me pick Charlie’s name, and to @ilikechocolatemilkh who helped me create this whole story!

Frankie Morales is a kindhearted man. Anyone who meets him knows it instantly. He’s got a wonderful laugh that’s warm and inviting, and it’s often on display to anyone who chats with him for more than a few seconds. He’s caring, it’s clear, with big brown eyes that radiate compassion. 

His friends would describe him more as an idiot. Frankie, who they call Catfish from their days in the military, insists that they’re the idiots. He’s the voice of reason in their group, making the rational decisions and de-escalating fights within their group. 

That’s not to say Frankie is entirely sunshine and rainbows. He’s now several months sober from a long and grueling addiction to cocaine. It ruined him: it took away his pilot’s license, his everything in life. Flying helicopters was Frankie’s passion, but he’s recovering. He’s on the right track.

He had a girlfriend, who became his fiancée, and left him not long after he returned home from a dangerous mission in South America. It didn’t matter anyway; her child, who Frankie had dedicated all of his heart to before the birth, was revealed to be another man’s. As much as she resented him for taking the mission, he resented her for cheating and lying and holding the information back.

So now Frankie lives on his own. He resides out in a more rural town, not far from where Benny has his weekly fights and Will (also known as Ironhead) works with young military recruits. It’s been a couple of months, and it’s hard to be alone. Santiago pops into town once or twice a month, and it’s always the highlight of Frankie’s very being. His best friend brings light and laughter into his life. When he leaves again, Frankie’s small home feels massive and quiet.

He plays lots of CDs. He has bluetooth speakers all around the home and blasts his favorite songs. He’s learned how to cook and clean and has even learned how to bake a decent, basic version of a nice loaf of bread. He works as a mechanic at a shop in his small town’s center, working the odd hours that no one else wants, the hours where others want to be home with their families.

He’d considered different options to make the house more home-like, more welcoming. He tried his hand at gardening, only to find that he had the opposite of a green thumb. He painted the walls a warmer color, then painted them again. He was currently considering changing the colors for the third time. He’d burn candles that he thought smelled nice. He’d hung up a few photos of him and his friends, or his family. Nothing really worked.

A typical night for Frankie held one of two patterns:

-Night A: Frankie gets home from the shop at about 7:30, hands covered in grease and smelling of burnt motor oil. He gets in the shower and cleans up, then either ends up at Benny’s arena to cheer him on, or at the bar with both Miller brothers.

-Night B: Frankie gets home at the same time. He showers to clean himself, simply because he hates leaving smudges over his home. He cooks a nice dinner or orders takeout. He eats it on the couch and watches a new Netflix series. He gets sad and feels alone and drinks a beer, then a few more, to drown the sensation. He goes to bed early and calls into the shop to see if any of the morning shift workers want to go home early, because he can come in an hour or two before his shift. He claims it’s for the overtime pay. It’s really to avoid the loneliness.

Frankie likes patterns. He likes routine. It’s soothing. Maybe it’s a remnant of his military days, where not a second would pass without having a title affixed to the very second he was living in. Predictability made the hurt easier.

Tonight was an A Night. Frankie and the Miller brothers sat at the bar of McCreary’s and talked about everything and nothing at once. Will talked about the new girl he was seeing. Benny made lewd comments. Frankie smacked his arm and ordered another round for the other two, then nursed one beer for the entire night.

Winters were the worst for Catfish. He lived in the South, where snow was uncommon, but the dreary February weather stole whatever energy he could muster up and sent it up to join the gray masses that hung in the sky, yet never shed their raindrops. It gets dark early, another thing Frankie hates. It reminds him of the look on Tom’s face when he died. Of the way his bachelor home never made sounds unless he created them. Of the way the craving for one more hit of that devious white powder felt, the way it scrambled his brain until he thought it was the only thing that could take it away. 

This A Night, which also happened to be an especially chilly Tuesday, Frankie drove home from the bar at 12:21. The backroads that lead from the suburbs out to the rolling hills are dark, with a rare streetlight or two illuminating a fork in the road that led to a house. The radio droned on, some old Waylon Jennings song that was threatening to send Frankie into a fit of rage and smash a fist into his dashboard. He turned off the radio instead.

Another car drove the opposite way, far in the distance. He could see the lights approaching, then dim slightly. Frankie turned off his brights, instead allowing the road to be illuminated just by his front headlights. He turns up the heat in his truck as a shiver runs down his spine.

Something is running across the road. Frankie can see it now. It’s far from him, but visible in the other car’s light. He slams on his brakes, his body jerking forward.

The other car doesn’t slow.

He slams his horn several times, for whatever is in the road and the other driver.

The thing doesn’t move.

The car doesn’t slow.

The car and the creature- oh fuck, it’s an animal- collide.

Everything that happens next is too quick. The car stops for a moment. Frankie whips the truck into park and turns on his hazards.

The other car stops for a moment. Frankie can just make out a silhouette inside. He gets out of his truck, eyes wide and frantic. He runs to the animal’s side.

The car drives off.

Dust swirls across the road as the car’s tail lights fade into the distance. Leaving just Frankie and his truck and the mangled mess of fur and blood.

“Fucker!” Frankie screams after the car. “You fuckin’ bastard! You didn’t even check, you motherfucker!”

He gets closer and realizes it’s a dog. Its fur is white and brown and so painstakingly red with its own blood, and it whimpers and cries and Frankie realizes the poor fucking thing is still alive. Whether it’s his caretaking or his military instincts that kick in, Frankie isn’t sure, but before he knows it he’s ripping off his jacket and picking up the poor poor baby, oh you little angel, he coos to it, wrapping it in the denim and setting it in his passenger seat.

It’s still whimpering and crying, and Frankie gets in the driver’s seat and grabs his phone. “Nearest 24-hour pet hospital,” he shouts into it, hands shaking. He doesn’t realize either reaction is happening. It gets the words wrong. “No, fuck,” he groans, shifting the truck into drive and whipping a U-turn. He types in the words as he starts to speed back in the direction of the town. He knows he shouldn’t text and drive and normally he doesn’t, but he’s a fucking former military helicopter pilot, he rationalizes with himself, he can handle this. He finds the directions and types them in and tears start dripping from his eyes.

“Hang in there, buddy, hey,” he says and rubs the poor dog’s big ears as they drive. “It’s gonna be 30 minutes. Think you can hang on for me?” he asks it, not expecting a response. He wants to check the dog’s sex but now is certainly not the time, not while he’s doing 85 in a 60 zone and the dog’s blood is seeping into his denim jacket and his passenger seat.

The tears are flowing freely from his eyes now, his heart breaking. He can feel the animal’s shallow breaths as he drives, and he sobs to himself. “Hang on, buddy. It’s gonna be okay, I gotcha. I’m Frankie,” he introduces himself to the dog, “and I’m gonna take real good care of you. You’re gonna be alright and we’re gonna get you fixed up and back to your owners.”

The drive takes 24 minutes when Frankie is flying down the backroads. Fuck if a cop sees him. Fuck blowing a tire. That can be cared for later, when there’s not a dying creature next to him. A steady murmur of ‘it’s okay’ spills from Frankie’s lips. He’s not sure if he’s saying it to the dog or himself. One hand firmly grips the steering wheel and the other never leaves the animal’s body. He comforts the poor creature, murmuring more reassurances the closer they get. 

“Please hang in there for me, cariño,” Frankie whimpers, chewing his bleeding lip. “I gotcha. It’s all gonna be alright, bud.”

When he sees the hospital, he drives a little faster. He pulls into the emergency room area and parks in front of the door, turning on his hazards and running inside. There are a few veterinary nurses inside and they greet him, but their looks turn to fear when they see the denim-wrapped animal. “Please, please, Idon’tknowthisisn’tmydogitwasahitandrunandIpickeditup-”

“It’s alright, sir, come with us. Please breathe and tell us again,” a kind woman tells him with a hand on his arm, rushing him and the dog back. Frankie calms down after a moment and explains what happened. “It’s not my dog, I don’t know whose dog this is, you gotta check it for a chip-” he rambles.

“It’s alright, sir,” the nurse tells him kindly and takes the dog from his arms. Frankie clutches after it and a new woman pushes his arms down. “We’re going to take it back and operate on it. Would you please wait here for us? We’ll come give you updates as we get them,” she tells him, gesturing to the waiting room. He nods. “And is this your dog’s first time here?” She asks.

The tears come back, choking his throat as water falls steadily from his eyes. “It’s not even my fuckin’ dog, man,” he whimpers, worrying his lip between his teeth again.

The woman is still kind. “I see. Please, sit, Mr….”

“Morales,” he manages out.

She nods. “Mr. Morales. I understand you’re worried. Please just wait in here for us and we’ll bring you information when we have it.” He nods softly, grabbing a tissue from the front desk. He wipes his eyes and nose. “My truck is parked right outside, it’s in the way, I’ll go park it somewhere else,” he tells her.

“That’s perfectly fine, sir. You can even leave and come back if you’d like.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be right back,” he tells her and walk-jogs outside, getting in his car and bringing it around to park.

-

Frankie enters the emergency room again and sits in a chair. He worries and worries for hours, texting his group chat with the Millers and Santiago. He gives them a play-by-play, but only Santiago responds. He sits awake for another hour, nervously wringing his ball cap.

The dog must be alive, or at least be able to save, he rationalizes with himself. After a while, the worry fades and he falls asleep. Two hours later, no other patients around to disrupt him, he’s woken by the nurse who took the dog back. “Mr. Morales?” She calls out gently.

He jumps awake. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me.” He sits up from his slumped state, readjusting the cap from where it had been resting over his eyes.

The nurse smiles softly at him and sits in a chair across the waiting room from him. “The dog is safe now. We had to amputate her front left leg, and she had a lot of stitches, but she’s stable and looks like she’ll do well.” He lets out a sigh and her smile becomes more genuine. “You told us she isn’t yours?”

She. The dog is a girl. Of course she is, Frankie smiles a little. The smile falls as he remembers the fact again. “No, no. It was a hit and run. I saw it happen, the other guy took off, it wasn’t me who hit her, I’m-”

“Mr. Morales.”

“Right. No, she’s not mine.”

The nurse nods and writes that down. “Well, we scanned her several times. She has no chip, no identifiers at all. Our options now are to send her to some rescue or kennel of some sort, or you can take her home with you.”

His heart breaks at the image of the sweet dog in the front seat of his car going somewhere without daily love and affection. “She’ll come with me,” he answers before he can rationally think about it.

“Wonderful,” she nods, marking that down as well. “She’s looped up now on some drugs. We’ll let her sleep them off for a bit and then she’s all yours. We do have some procedures we’ll need you to follow, for caring for the wound and such. But after that, it should be all good. You’re free to head out now. We can call you when she wakes up.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” He looks down at his watch and notices how early in the morning it is. “Thanks,” he tells her with a genuine smile, taking off his cap and running his hands through his hair before replacing it.

- From that moment on, Frankie was enamored with the dog. He called in from work when the shop opened bright and early at 6:00 A.M. 

“Hey Carol. It’s Morales.”

“You can stop asking if you can come in early, Frank. Just do it,” the woman chuckles on the other line. A loud slurp is audible- it’s the coffee she’s always drinking, the dark sludgy shit that she brews in the break room that Frankie can’t stand but she absolutely adores.

“No, uh. Actually, I was calling in to see if someone else could cover for me today.” He explains the whole story to her, wringing his cap between his hands. “So. I was kind of hoping I could take the day to look for the dog’s owners and care for her.”

There’s a beat of silence over the phone. “Of course, Frankie,” the older woman says kindly. “You got a real big heart, kid. Real big. That’s awful kind.”

He smiles a little. “Just doing what I can. Thanks, Carol.”

“Keep me posted, Catfish.” The woman hangs up.

Frankie’s in more comfortable clothes now. He didn’t sleep at all once he got home, waiting for the hospital’s call. He distracts himself, cooking a breakfast he only picks at, watching his new series halfheartedly on the couch.

The animal hospital calls him again at 7:30. He gets off the couch immediately and into the truck. There’s a bit of blood on the passenger seat, from where the dog wasn’t immediately covered by his jacket. It’s not a worry, though, he thinks to himself. He’ll get some stain remover and maybe a new and nicer jacket. 

When he arrives, they usher him back to a check-up room. The dog is lying down but she wags her tail at Frankie, looking up at him with big brown eyes that could rival his own. “Hey, sweet thing,” he calls softly, and the dog stands and walks over to him. It’s pained, that much is clear, but she’s already adjusting to walking with one less limb. She rests her head on Frankie’s lap and he scratches her ears gently. 

Some paperwork is filled out and Frankie leads the dog out to his truck with the leash and collar the hospital provided. He lifts her into the passenger seat and she snuggles in. The scent is familiar to her. 

Frankie drives her to a pet store nearby, smiling over at her. She looks at ease with him, relaxed and trusting. Of course she is. This is the man who saved her. 

He helps her down once they arrive and leads her inside. Her walking is pained, he can tell. “Aw, honey,” he frowns. There are carts right inside; Frankie sees the immediate solution. He scoops her up and sets her in a cart. Her tongue hangs out happily as they go through the store. “We’re gonna get you all kinds of fun stuff, huh?” He asks, scratching her head. 

Frankie spares no expense for the dog. As they cross through the store, the cart fills: bags of food and treats, a new leash, and a pink collar decorated with donuts “because you’re such a sweetie, right cutie?”, doggie bags, and food and water dishes. Finally they reach the toy aisle. “Do you wanna pick your own toy?”

He picks her up and sets her down on the ground, unclipping her leash to allow her to explore the toy aisle. She meanders, sniffing toys here and there, even considering one big bone. A few moments later, she comes tottering back to the cart with a toy in her mouth. It’s a big plush hedgehog.  Frankie grins. “Aw, that’s a good one! Good choice, cutie.” He kisses her head as he puts her back in the cart. 

They check out and drive home, and Frankie allows her to wander inside. “Welcome home. At least for now. I suppose I should put an ad out for you online.” 

The dog doesn’t respond, just wanders around the house, sniffing the furniture warily and looking back at Frankie. Asking if he’s coming. He smiles and leads her to the couch, sitting down on it. “I know they say you shouldn’t let dogs on the furniture, but I think you and I can share.” She jumps up and Frankie praises her, giving her a smooch and earning a big lick in return. “Oh, pretty girl, I think you’ll like it here,” he coos to her. She snuggles into his side with a sigh and Frankie sighs too. 

Over the next few days, he posts ads for her, but no one responds. He reaches out to people from the area he was driving in, but no one responds. After Day 4 of searching, there’s no response and he allows himself to sigh in relief. “You’re mine now, baby girl,” he coos to the dog, who’s happily panting and grinning. 

During the first week, Frankie tries out different names for her. None of them seem to stick. He wonders if she ever even had a name before. Ada, Lucille, Thea, Sunny, Miki, Zulu, Fox, Pancake. None of them work right for her personality. 

It’s not until late one night when Frankie’s coke cravings decide upon a name for her. 

It’s 2:24 in the morning and Frankie is quaking like a leaf. The dog is cuddled up into his side on the bed. Wherever he goes around the house, she follows. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s drawing blood. Normally when he’s this anxious, when he yearns to call his dealer, he rides it out by balling his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. But his dog seems to notice. 

She rests her chin on his hip, wagging her tail against the mattress with a steady thump. She whines quietly. She knows. 

Frankie’s at least momentarily distracted. “Hey, beautiful, what’s wrong?” He asks her, scratching his head and rolling over to pet her. He’s still desperate but the focus shifts from the sensation of one last hit to the feeling of her soft fur beneath his fingers. She sighs happily and snuggles into Frankie’s side, and he starts to cry. 

No one has ever needed him. Not his plants: they’re succulents. He deals with them once every other week. Not his former fiancée. She didn’t need him, just liked him for his money and his dick late at night. Not his friends. They had other friends to go to. No, this dog needs him, and it makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst. 

Sitting up, Frankie turns on the television. He hits a random button to choose a channel, and Princess and the Frog comes on. He chuckles a little. “How about Tiana?” He asks his dog and scratches her ears. She doesn’t react. 

It’s near the beginning of the movie. The relaxing music soothes him as the movie starts. The dog lies with her head on his thigh, happily receiving scratchies from her new father. Her head perks up when she hears a shrill noise from the television: Tiana’s best friend in her puffy pink dress. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. It’s just Charlotte.”

Charlotte. Her ears perk up and she looks at him. “Charlotte?” He asks again, and she looks at him in confusion. “Do you like that one? How about Lottie?” No response. “Or Charlie?”

The dog pounces on him with her one front paw and licks his face. Frankie laughs happily scratching her sides. “Is that your name, pretty girl? Is your name Charlie?”

The answer, it seems, is yes.

It’s funny, Frankie thinks. Charlie is the third letter of the military alphabet, after Alpha and Beta.

Before Delta.

She would be, he realizes. She’s more important to him than his Delta Squadron guys. More important to him than the terrible things he did in the military. She comes before Delta.

And that’s how Charlie got her name. 

-

The guys finally came over to Frankie’s house on Night 9 of owning Charlie. 

All of the men are dog lovers, and Charlie takes to Benny quickly. He gives her her favorite kind of scratches: one hand behind the ear, one hand on the tummy. “Yeah, that’s a good tripod,” he teases her as he snuggles her. 

“Hey man, cut it out,” Frankie frowns and smacks his arm. “She’s insecure about it! Be nice.”

Santiago laughs. “Hey, you know what, Fish? This isn’t what I meant when I said that you should get a girl, but I’ll take it. Especially when she’s such a sweetie- oh hi, beautiful,” he coos as Charlie hops his way and licks his face. 

Frankie shakes his head. “Isn’t she a cutie?” He laughs happily as he watches his dog. “I tried posting ads for her, but no one answered. She’s such a sweetheart, potty trained and everything. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Benny grins. “And all because we asked you to get a beer and you caved and said yes.”

“What the hell do you mean caved, Ben? I get beers with you two fuckers three times a week,” he laughs and shakes his head. 

He’s been home alone with her all week, but he hasn’t felt as anxious as he normally does. Her companionship is all he needs, the way she snuggles up tight against him, the way her meal schedule motivates him to eat more. He has a purpose now. 

After the initial excitement, Charlie finds her place sitting at her dad’s feet, panting happily and looking around the room. “She fits in well,” Will nods and leans over as he scratches her head. “She’s the newest member of our group, I suppose.”

“She’s much less work than Fish. Maybe we replace him with her,” Santiago teases and Frankie flips him off, chuckling softly. 

This was a pattern that came to be known as the newly named C Night in Frankie’s head. These are the nights where they order a pizza or takeout and hang out in Frankie’s living room with Charlie. She’s the entertainer of the group, giving the men each some individual snuggles and wandering around the room. She’s funny, flopping onto her back at a human’s feet so that she can get tummy rubs, spending an absurd amount of time sniffing one specific spot on one man’s jeans. They all adore her. 

Life improves for Frankie when he has Charlie. He works shorter hours, spends time brushing her fur. He sleeps at better hours and cares for himself better as a result of caring for her. 

He takes her on a jog every morning. At first, he was nervous to do it. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to pass those Special Ops fitness tests. The thing that encourages him most is that Charlie is just the same speed as him. She runs along happily on three legs at the perfect pace for Frankie to match. 

Frankie lovingly refers to her as his copilot. She loves riding in the passenger seat of his truck, letting the wind from the open windows run through her fur. She gets excited when she hears the word truck and demands that Frankie snuggle her when they’re on a long drive. She even fell asleep on his lap once, with her face resting in the curve of the steering wheel.

Charlie is Frankie’s baby, and Frankie is her favorite human. The two of them are each other’s soulmates, Frankie thinks. His baby girl, his fluffy baby, his cuddlebug. His girl. His one true love is his dog, his Charlie. 

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