#((meant to get in here earlier but THINGS and HALLOWEENS and have a little horror drabble instead then))

[goldendivinewrath]

Plants produce things. All of them do. Or, did. There were the general ones, of course, easily identified, classified, but occasionally there was one that was different.

Independent Plants were different still. They too produced things. But they were different from the others, different from each other. All eventually walking nuclear weapons. Must be. Must have been.

He'd had a brother. He is pretty sure. He remembers sometimes. But he'd had more than that. A family. He can see their faces sometimes.

Sometimes it's all he can see, even when he opens his eyes. (Are they eyes?) But they're all slack, these faces. One of them's screaming, or maybe crying, or maybe begging, but he doesn't understand. Gone, gone.

Humans were here, once. He thinks. Worms were here once, too. More than him. There was more than him and this formless ache. There were objects and voices and more. There was more.

He had a name.

He was hated.

He was loved.

He was feared.

He is feared. He is feared right now. He fears.

[e-vay]

Evay QA Bulk Post 4

Here's another roundup of questions! I'm sorry if you don't see your question answered here. I tried answering as many as I could handle. Thank you all for reaching out :)

PERSONAL ASKS

Anon asked: I don’t know if this is too personal or not, but if you feel comfortable sharing, what prompted you to make a return after not posting at all for about 3 years?

A: That's okay, I don't mind you asking. To be honest, I just suffered from art block for a very long time. I couldn't get myself to draw no matter how hard I tried. I would sit myself down and try to force myself to do it, but I just couldn't. I don't know why it went away and I don't know why it came back, but suddenly my spark came back with a vengeance! I'm back to wanting to draw all the time! I think that's both the wonderful and awful thing about creativity: you can't force it. It sucks, but hopefully I can serve as proof to others who are going through it that you can spring back from it.

Anon asked: Hi E-vay! I couldn't help but notice a few Coraline references in some of your art work, are you a fan of the film too? By the way, Sonamy 4 eva!!

A: Yes I LOVE Coraline! I never read the book but I love the movie. It fills my spooky little heart and soul!

sonicalover1345 asked: Hey, quick question have you watched Hazbin Hotel Prime video? If you have what is or are your favorite characters?

A: I haven't yet! Honestly when the pilot first came out years ago, I didn't care for it. (I love Helluva Boss, did not care for Hazbin Hotel). But I've heard a million people recommending the series and I've heard the songs because of Tiktok and a lot of the songs sound great, so I have been meaning to check it out.

Anon asked: What is your favourite Tim burton movie? 🖤

A: I want to say Nightmare Before Christmas, but to be completely honest it's probably Mars Attacks! It's so campy and funny and it has that retro horror sci-fi film feel to it, and the cast rocks. It checks all the boxes for me. I even have a Mars Attacks! print hung up at my office at work:

wind-upbaby14 asked: Just curious but what happened to that hell hath series you made and why did you stop?

A: I went through a severe art block and hadn't drawn anything for a long time, even though I had the whole script for it written out. However since getting my mojo back, I've completely re-written the story and am working on it again. You'll see more of HHNF soon and I'm certain you'll like it better than it was meant to be originally!

Anon asked: I’m unsure if you’ve been asked this before, feel free to ignore if so but would you ever consider opening a Patreon? Y’know for earlier access and possibly spicy art🤔?

A: I did have a Patreon once upon a time, but it gave me severe imposter syndrome lol It put too much pressure on me to put out content that I thought was worthy enough for people to be paying for, so I ultimately closed it down. It doesn't mean I won't ever open it up again, but I don't have any immediate plans to do that. Also regarding the spice haha 😅 I appreciate your interest, but I just don't like to share that kind of content.

milangakokoros asked: I know you like sailor moon, I remember that you published a drawing that you did in 2007 somewhere, of Aurora sailor moon version. What other animes do you like? have you seen saint seiya? (it's my current hyperfixation)

A: I don't watch much anime anymore, but I used to be obsessed with Naruto. That's primarily what I would draw back in my dA days, but I lost interest in it a long time ago. I also loved Fruits Basket, Kill La Kill, One Punch Man and Attack on Titan. There are other shows I've watched, but those were the major series. I haven't seen the series you mentioned, sorry!

milangakokoros asked: Have you thought about making more games like the one you made on Halloween?

A: Absolutely! I don't know what the next game will be, but I definitely want to make more!

prophecyhyper asked: Do you post any of your drawings on any other sites?

A: I sometimes post my art on my Instagram and I sometimes post timelapses of my drawings on Tiktok, but I mostly post here on Tumblr!

aviles2003 asked: I've been meaning to ask you this about adaptations, what is your only favorite Video Game Movie you wanna see, already watched, and excited to see? (Sonic the Hedgehog Movies, The Super Mario Bros Movie, Detective Pikachu, Or Five Nights at Freddy's?)

A: So far my favorite game-movie adaptation is the Super Mario Bros movie! I love it so much! I love that they kept the style of the game but made it a little more polished than what you'd get in the games. I loved the characters, I loved all the references within it, I loved the music. I just think it's a perfect adaptation. Of course I'm super excited for Sonic 3! I'm sure it's going to be great, I'm just praying that Amy will be in it! I need her in it :( I'd love to see a movie adaptation of Dead Space. That's one of my favorite games and ooh I think it'd make such a good horror film. I know they made animated movies for it, but I want it done in a proper hollywood horror way!

edwinflores428 asked: E-vay, since you're also a Beatles enjoyer, did you hear the new Beatles song 'Now and Then'?

A: I didn't know about this until you mentioned this in my inbox. Wow that was emotional! I can't believe they were able to make a song out of an old unreleased recording and really get to finally get closure for their band in a way. Just incredible!

Anon asked: hey, i logged in after a long time and i was just happy to see you’re still posting. i’ve been following since the deviantart days and i just wanted to say how much i enjoy your art. it has always brought me a lot of joy :)

A: This isn't an ask, but I wanted to include it just so I could tell those of you who send these kinds of messages to my inbox: Thank you ❤️ I don't know if you all realize how much it means to me to have your support. Whether you're new to my work or whether you've followed me since my deviantART days, it absolutely makes my day when I receive these kind of wonderful, positive messages. My only wish is that you didn't feel you needed to write me anonymously so I could thank you personally! But I'll respect your privacy ❤️ From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

-

MISC SONIC ASKS

Anon asked: I was wondering what your favourite brotherly head cannon would be between Sonic and Tails? :3

A: Even though Sonic's older and technically raised Tails, I love the idea of them sort of "raising each other." Sonic teaches Tails how to defend himself, how to navigate the world, how to do the right thing, but Tails is the one who teaches Sonic how to read and write, introduces him to philosophical discussions that Sonic finds really boring but actually helps him to be a better hero and be a better version of himself. I even like the idea of Tails being the one to teach Sonic how to play music. Sonic has a natural talent for it, but Tails is the one to teach him notes and chords, how to actually read sheet music, things like that.

umbrathehedgehog asked: Hey, I noticed that one piece about Sonic Prime. It's very nice! What did you like or not like about the show? Been seeing a lot of differing opinions on it and I'm really curious about what you thought!

A: Thanks so much! As a whole I'd say it was okay. It certainly wasn't the best Sonic media out there in my opinion but no way was it the worst. I understand it's a kid's show, but it was way too formulaic for me. It got to the point where I could pretty much bet "in 2 minutes Character A is going to seem like all is lost, then a loud explosion/sudden shake will happen, and they'll look up like 'whuAHHH???' and Character B will show up to help." That's fine, but not when it's happening multiple times every single episode. So to be honest, it wasn't a show that I looked forward to watching like I did with Sonic Boom. It was just something I had on because it was Sonic-related. But Sonic Prime had a lot of good character writing and the acting was great. They explored character relationships/dynamics and emotions that some other Sonic content hasn't done before, so I applaud them for that. It's mirroring what happened in Sonic Frontiers and I love that the franchise is willing to dig a little deeper on an emotional level like that. And I've said it before but I'll say it a million times more: Shadow was PERFECT! The positive of having Shadow portrayed so excellently far outweighed any negatives I could say for the show!

chrismantike asked: What’re your thoughts on longclaw (the owl from the sonic movie) does she exist in your AU as Sonic’s mom?

A: Well we didn't get to see very much of her, but I loved her design! She was very majestic and beautiful and kind. None of the characters or storyline from the live action movies are part of my AU.

-

MY OCs/AU ASKS

Anon asked: So when’s did aurora learn that she could turn invisible? And did she use it to pull a prank on her parents making them think she disappeared

A: Aurora discovers her light abilities when she's young (think about preteen age), but she doesn't fully know what all she can do yet. It takes a lot of experimenting and studying with Uncle Tails to figure out everything she can do. He is the one who tells her that if she can bend light, she should be able to use it to cloak herself. Tails and Sonic obviously mean she should use it as a defensive move, but Aurora instantly thinks it's the perfect power for pranks! Picture a lot of objects "floating" around the house with a lot of phony "OooooOOoooOOOO" ghost noises haha

Anon asked: Is aurora a comic book fan? If so what’s her favorite series

A: Aurora can enjoy super hero related stuff, but she's not an avid fan of it and I would say she does not read comics. Aurora is more into fantasy/romance books. Ruff is the one who is into comic books :) His favorite would be Batman.

Anon asked: I love your idea of Aurora and Sage being close friends, I really think that fits! That being said, do you think Sage and CC would get along?

and gale-gentlepenguin asked: I’m curious on how Sage would interact with Aurora and CC? I know it would probably be seperate universes but it would be fun to see how Eggman’s daughter reacts to Sonics daughter and a sentient AI of equal intellect

A: Thank you! I've been thinking about it and I like the idea of Sage and CC being rivals, but in a very cheeky, friendly way. Sort of like Sonic and Knuckles. Sage and CC would make everything into a competition to see who can solve this problem fastest or who can simulate something best, to determine who is truly the more intelligent of the two AIs. But again, not in a toxic way. In a "I have to be the best version of myself in order to beat you because the respect I have for you is insanely high" kind of way. And Sage could playfully tease CC for wanting to become organic because it'd be a "step backwards" in her evolution, but really she'd work to find a way to help make CC's dream come true.

antooogamer asked: Hello, I already know why Diamond is white and Boon's color is for Aurora, but now I have a question about Cinder, why is he Orange? :^

A: Orange is in the same color family as red and pink, so I think it still works. As far as color theory, in my AU Aurora has a grandma who is yellow and Shadow's fur includes red, so by blending those colors you can get orange. It's the same reason why Nova is purple, it's a blend of colors from their lineage. I tried Cinder out in several different colors but orange is ultimately what fit him best.

animefan299110 asked: After seeing your artwork of Sage and Aurora interacting, I got to ask: Do they hang out a lot or is Sage like a cousin/big sister who visits all the time?

A: They're more like best friends than sisters/cousins. I know people draw Sage growing older and stuff but I personally headcanon that she'd stay in the form of a child because she feels no need to grow up. But once she's friends with Aurora, then I could see her "aging" up alongside Aurora so that she always matches her friend. It's just a headcanon of mine for now and that could ultimately change in the future.

Anon asked: Has Aurora ever been to space before if so what were her thoughts. Was she like markiplier with the whole space is so cool song.

A: Aurora DESPERATELY wants to go to space more than anything! But for most of her life she hardly ever left her home. It isn't until she's grown up that she actually starts to properly explore the world. Eventually I want her to go to space, but it would be once she's living on her own.

skywriter97 asked: So I saw this one fanart comic (that I can't remember the name of) forever ago and in it Shadow had his emblem tattooed on his arm and it made me wonder (since you the best Sonic fan artist hands down no contest) does Sonamy/Shadora (or any of your characters kn your Au) have any tats or piercings anywhere? If so, what and where? (If the fur doesn't get in the way for them lol) (Votes go to Shadow being a tatted and pierced edgelord cuz that would be so 🔥🔥🔥👌👌👌😍🤩😍🤩🤩😍🥵🥵🤤🤤🤌🤌🤌)

A: You are just so sweet, thank you! You know I'm very pro tats and I love seeing what people think the different Sonic characters would get. For my AU, I only have two (technically three) characters depicted with tattoos. Amy's dad Clay Rose has two tattoos on his bicep: A heart with his wife's name in it, and then a matching little heart with Amy's name in it. Adult Knuckles has a simple "M.E." tattooed on his bicep. It's a reference to Knuckles' theme and also his dedication to the Master Emerald. Lastly, I have the human version of Cinder (but only the human version) with forearm sleeves that continue down his hands. So far those are the only characters I have with tattoos. As far as piercings, most of my characters have ear piercings but they don't often wear earrings. Blitz and Lulu are the only characters who always wears earrings. I could see Shadow getting at least an ear pierced, but I headcanon that with his rapid healing that it would almost instantly close if he didn't actively wear a piercing at the time.

Anon asked: I totally hope that Piper will have a girlfriend! Do you see her more with a girl or a boy?

A: I currently see PIper as demiromantic. She is currently not interested in anyone romantically or physically, and I don't want to diminish that part of her identity by saying 'Oh but she'll eventually end up with __." Of course, a headcanon is whatever you want so if you personally ship her with a woman that's cool with me!

Anon asked: Hey evay, i was looking at this old info of Amy, and It says that she wans't always at home, did Aurora had any issue with that? Did some part of her childhood she could say that she had mother issues? (Sorry if you can't understand, my english it's terrible 💀)

A: Your English is excellent! I wouldn't go so far as to say Aurora had mother issues. Amy wasn't completely absent from Aurora's youth, she was just working a lot so she wasn't constantly at home the way Sonic was. It would have made things a little awkward/emotional at times because that naturally made Aurora favor Sonic a little more when she was younger, but that also made the times she did have with Amy all the more special. Aurora never thought to herself "My mom has abandoned me because she's never home," it was more of a "Work is stupid and being grown up is stupid because it means Mom can't stay home and play with me all day." Aurora and Amy grow a lot closer as Aurora gets older and better understands the meaning of responsibilities and commitment.

Anon asked: Hi hi! I'm kinda new in the Sonic fandom and I've seen lots of your comics and content so far (That are great!) The shadora refs of their kids are just so *chef kiss*, when I looked at it, I told myself: "Damn, I wanna make ref sheets this great for my characters too!" I love the fact that you called them an horde! xD And the angst with Shadow's immortality must be amazing! Uh I'm getting out of the subject ^^'' I wanted to ask you if you planned or did anything with Silver? I don't think I saw anything from you with him And another question, if no one asked this before, are any of Shadora's kiddos immortal too? Or maybe they're "half immortal"? Like, they live longer than everyone else but still has a shorter lifespan than their dad I love your work! Keep going! ^^ And have a wonderful day :D

A: Wow, that's so kind of you to say! Thank you so much! I hope you do make ref sheets for your characters :) I haven't planned anything with Silver for my AU yet. To be honest, I don't know his character very well and I try my best to always keep the original characters in-character, so that's why I haven't done anything with him yet. But I recently purchased the volumes of IDW comics and I'm hoping to understand him better and then I will be more confident writing him! Secondly, none of the Shadora horde are immortal. They have stronger immune systems so they can heal faster and are less likely to get sick than the average Mobian, but they are still mortal and still age at a normal rate. Thank you for the questions and compliments!

Anon asked: I love the Shadora babies sm !! My question is..What excactly happend in the fight between Diamond and Cinder? Love your art btw<3

A: Thank you so much! I need to make a comic about it. When they were young they were all exploring the different zones and Cinder was really struggling with some of the obstacles so he was already getting quite aggravated. Diamond noticed this and offered to help because some problems are better solved as a team, and Cinder immediately gets pissed and tells her to buzz off. She gets upset that he snaps at her, and there's some escalation between the two and finally Cinder blows up at her (literally). He immediately regrets it as he did not mean to hurt her, but the damage is already done.

degux asked: What would happen if Metal Sonic ( somehow :v ) met CC ?

A: Hmm. Well, even though Metal Sonic is based on Sonic, I love stories that involve him having an identity crisis and ultimately deciding that he's not just going to be a clone. He's his own entity, right? They're alike, but they're not the same. I don't know where he'd be on that self journey by the time he meets CC, but she'd definitely see him as his own person, not as a Sonic copy. But likely he'd still be an antagonist, so they'd end up having to battle lol

milangakokoros asked: does team chaotix exist in the Aurora universe? and have they interacted with the Rose family?

A: They definitely exist in my AU, but I haven't completely decided what their roles are yet. I can see Vector becoming Cream's stepdad (I'm not passionate about the VanillaXVector ship but I know it's practically canon), and then that leads me down a rabbit hole (pun intended) of how does that affect the dynamics of Team Chaotix? I have some rough ideas but I need to spend more time on it.

Anon asked: Have you thought about introducing Vector or Team chaotix in your sonamy and Aurora comics? :0 I picture him being "Uncle Stanley Pines" from Aurora and the Hyena Boys.

A: I had to add this question immediately after because your idea of Grunkle Stan made me laugh out loud! Oh my gosh I love that!

Anon asked: hola, tengo una pregunta. Hace mucho que no veia tu contenido y veo que estas de vuelta me alegro! :) Mi pregunta es aurora no tenia un hermano? Si no mal recuerdo creo que tenia uno y de ser asi el caso, el también tendria sus propias aventuras? Lo poco que recuerdo de el es que estaba en un dibujo tuyo de navidad con toda la familia sonamy junta y otro donde aurora lo abraza. Me gustaría saber que fue de el

A: ¡Gracias! The character you're referring to was an OC made by my friend Nana, a Sonamy fankid named Spazz. I sometimes drew him interacting with Aurora because my friend Nana and I just liked to draw our characters interacting, but Spazz is not a part of my AU. Nana is no longer on tumblr so that's why there aren't any Spazz art/comics anymore.

Anon asked: Does Sonic’s Uncle Chuck exist in your AU?

A: No I don't include the Archie comics or characters at all

⚠‼️THIS QUESTION MIGHT BE TRIGGERING. SKIP IF YOU NEED TO. TW: INFERTILITY ‼️⚠ Anon asked: Hi e-vay! I’ve recently re-read your ‘Boom Baby’ comic & was wonderin’ - especially with all their attempts - did Sonic or Amy, either one, stuggle with infertility? If so, did they ever have any doubts of that “I’m pregnant” moment ever happening?

A: Infertility is a very real issue that many people (including those very close in my life) deal with. Although I do think it's very important for people to be able to see their experiences reflected in the media they consume to help them remember that they aren't alone in their experience, this is not something I wanted Sonic and Amy to have to deal with for Boom!Baby. The chapter where Sonic references making multiple attempts during a certain window of time was not meant to imply that they were struggling with infertility. It was instead supposed to show that now that they've both decided they want a child, Amy doesn't want to take any chances to make sure it happens lol. TMI - Even without fertility issues, getting pregnant is not always guaranteed so it can take a lot of planning and timing (and frankly, luck) to be successful. Super TMI - I headcanon that Sonic and Amy are already intimate A LOT so now that they're trying for a baby it's above and beyond and that's why Sonic is tired in that chapter lol

fireghost234 asked: Hi this is my first time asking you!!!, does sonic in your AU still have his swordfighting skills from black knight?

A: Thank you for the question! Personally I don't think he'd retain those skills after that experience, so no that's not a trait he has in my AU anyway.

madysonisbae19 asked: Okay so I’m listing to the Encanto soundtrack and when Surface Pressure came on tell me why I instantly thought of Diamond singing this song when she is down about being physically the strongest out of her family.

A: That song (and character) is so her! Thank you for pointing that out to me, I'm going to associate that with her now 🥰

Anon asked: Did Aurora actually got bullied in school?

A: In my stories Mobians don't really go to "school," but yes she was bullied by a group of other kids when she was little. I have a script for a comic for this, I just haven't drawn it yet.

Anon asked: I think I'm pretty sure you based post-Boom to make your comics, but do you think Prime to becanon to your comic continuity too?

A: My AU is a fluid situation haha It adapts as more Sonic content comes out and I get to pick what I want to include. That's what makes AUs fun! Hmmm, ultimately I'm going to say no, I don't think Prime is canon to my stories.

Anon asked: Hi e-vay! Just wanted to ask, will we ever see what happened with Sonic and Amy's wedding in your AU? We've seen Amy's pregnancy with Aurora and their first date, so it seems like another natural relationship landmark to make a shenanigans-filled story out of! Also, keeping on the Sonamy wedding topic, what's their guestlist look like? Are there any surprises in who's getting an invite and who isn't?

A: I definitely have a sonamy wedding comic in the works :) It's going to be multi-chaptered. I would love to answer your other questions but I don't want to spoil the surprise! 😜

SHIPPING ASKS

Anon asked: Not to sound weird or anything, but does Sonic have a go to move that seduces Amy? 💙🩷

A: He simply ✨exists✨

Anon asked: Does Sonic ever dream about Amy?

A: I mean, I think so 😉

Anon asked: Hi e-vay! I had a question for you that I've been wanting to know about. If you read Harry Potter or watch the movies, don't you think that Harry and Ginny's relationship is similar to Sonic and Amy? I know this is kind of random, but it's like Harry is the hero, and Ginny was always in love with him, but their relationship slowly developed throughout the books, especially the 6th book. And that's how Sonic and Amy have been throughout the years

A: Hello! I have seen the movies and I read some of the books, but I don't know the series all that well. Actually, I don't remember Ginny being in the movies much at all, so I was a little confused when she and Harry ended up together. Maybe there was more to it in the books that I just never read. So if I'm going solely based on the movies I've seen, I can't say that I see the correlation. But that's not to say you're wrong in thinking that :)

aurorathehedge6 asked: What's your favorite Sonamy art that you made?

A: Definitely My Gal, specifically the last couple of chapters. I put my whole heart into that story and I'm pretty proud of it.

essycogany asked: Hi! First, I want to say that I LOVE your work! You’re so talented and I couldn’t appreciate your stuff enough. How are you feeling about the new Sonamy material from this and last year? Things are really starting to become more obvious as the years go on. Hope you’re doing well. 💖

A: Thank you so much! I hope you're doing well too :) UGH!!! 😩💙💖💙💖💙💖 We have been fed SO WELL lately! I can't believe it, what a time to be alive! I'm still sure they won't ever make it canon, but I love the sweet little snippets we get and just how much Sonic and Amy's relationship has evolved over the years to be so much closer. And I giggle like a little maniac every time they're on screen together or they're side by side in marketing. It makes my heart SING!

Anon asked: Are you still a fan of of the OT3 hedgies (Sonamyshad) and are still a fan of shadamy? Will we see any dribbles about them. Your art is so pretty 😍🤩 I just wanna see more 🤣😅 sorry if that embarrassing!

A: That's not embarrassing, that's crazy kind of you to say! Thank you! Yes I do still adore those ships and need to draw them more. It just seems every time I go to draw something my hand gets possessed by the ✨spirit of sonamy✨😂 I promise I'll draw the others at some point!

Anon asked: Are there any ships that you just… don’t get? Not dislike or hate or anything, just one that you fully don’t understand the appeal for…? Cause Metal Sonic and Amy is a ship that kinda baffles me. Like most Amy ships have some appeal. Sonic is obvious, you’re Ms. Sonamy after all. But Shads, Silver, Blaze, and even Surge have fun dynamics, and Metal doesn’t really strike me as a character that is able to be shipped effectively… Thoughts?

A: There definitely are ships that I don't understand. But if I don't understand or don't like a ship (or fan theories, or whatever), I'd rather just not talk about them. I used to indulge in that style of arguing discussion when I was a kid but I don't do that kind of stuff anymore. If I don't get something I just say "That's not for me" and move along. I do support the MetAmy ship myself but it's not at the top of my ship list (lol). I like it because Metal Sonic is based on Sonic, and if they're meant to be similar and I believe that Sonic does care about Amy, then that logic would tell me that Metal cares about Amy, too. And even though Metal is a villain, Amy does care about his well being (just like she cares about everyone's well being). Metal Sonic is also one of the main reasons Amy and Sonic met in the first place, so I think she holds a special place in her heart for him, even if it's not 100% romantic. That's my reasoning, but I don't want or expect you to change your opinion.

Anon asked: Will tails and CC ever get married?

A: Whoa now, I've never even drawn them on an official date yet ;)

Anon asked: What tv shows would sonic and amy watch together?

A: I think a lot of feel-good comedies like Brooklyn 99, Bob's Burgers, Modern Family and Schitt's Creek.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora*

Anon asked: What would Shadow and Aurora’s fave show be?

A: They don't have similar tastes in shows, but I could see them both enjoying Only Murders in the Building and cut throat competition cooking shows like Hell's Kitchen.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

gray3754 asked: How old would Amy and Sonic be when Aurora started to date shadow

A: I don't really do exact ages, but Sonic and Amy have Aurora roughly when they're in their mid-to-late 20s. So they would be in their mid-to-late 40s when Aurora and Shadow first meet.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

aurorathehedge6 asked: What's your favorite Shadora art that you made? Also have Sonic, Amy, Aurora, and Shadow ever been on a double date?

A: Hmm, I think my fav Shadora art is the comic where Shadow and Aurora discuss her "wings" (back quills). It started out as just a fluffy piece but I think it really set the tone for their relationship in my stories. As far as a double date -- I could see them trying a double date early on when Shadow first states his intention to date Aurora, but it doesn't go well. Years later when Sonic is more accepting of their relationship I could see them occasionally going out for lunch/dinner together instead of just their weekly family dinners at home.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

ticciticcicendy asked: I don't know if you do this question but has any of Aurora and shadows kids ever walked in on them?

A: Hahaha, Shadow is too savvy for that! He had the Shadora house built to essentially be a fortress, which also means the primary bedroom is practically a vault. Ain't nobody getting in there unexpectedly hahaha

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

lazypatrolpizzapersona asked: One question, is Aurora jealous when Shadow is with these girls?

A: I'm not sure what girls you are referring to? But Aurora is not a very jealous type.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

zero-aurion asked: Quick question, in terms of lap pillows, for Tails and CC and Shadow and Aurora, who rests their head on the others lap more?

A: CC doesn't need to rest, but Tails is so soft that she just loves to lay against him so she'd definitely use him for a lap pillow more. BONUS POINTS for using his tails as a shawl around her shoulders! Shadow is more likely to rest his head in Aurora's lap. The way she strokes his quills is very soothing and makes him feel content. She also has thick thighs so very, very comfy for lap pillows!

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Thank you all for the questions!

Evay QA Bulk Post 1

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[lifewithoutmeds]

september 19, 2023

6:54 p.m.

the sun's starting to set earlier. it's setting around now, actually, and i'm typing in a fading light. also it's been about 10-20' cooler than it was about a week ago. the high's are in the mid to high 70's, the nights are cool, and i haven't had to turn on the a/c in about a week. i've also been able to go out on a couple lunch walks, which i hadn't previously, partly due to the weather, partly just because of my headspace.

i feel pretty uneasy lately. i know that the weather has something to do with it. as much as i appreciate how it's cooler, something about it kind of fills me with dread and extreme anxiety and sadness. it feels ... foreboding almost. like a blanket of darkness slowly descending, like i should be hiding the kids in some bunker, nervously looking back, hoping it won't catch up to me. it's a bizarre sensation.

i'm also remembering how much of this dissipated when jadai was here. cooler nights meant a blanket set up by the fireplace, and drinks and monopoly deal. it meant nights at shelby's with the dogs, with a movie on, with pumpkin carving and halloween music. now it's back to nothingness, the unsettledness.

week's recap:

thursday, 9/14/2023: went in to work, uncharacteristically on a thursday, due to a quarterly in-person asset management meeting. i worked a lot, as i do on in-office days, and our Pathway Home meeting ran late, until 6:30 p.m., and then joyce wanted a quick recap which took a few extra minutes. i ended up being quite late to dinner with stacy and catherine, but they had been waiting a bit so the food hadn't all been eaten, and i had some drinks and we all gave little recaps on our lives and catherine was so sweet, when i told her about my may mental breakdown, she said i should've reached out to her, and something to the extent of how when there's something ... i dunno, mature? authentic about my honestly in how i was dealing with the crap and sadness that is life, as opposed to pretending all was good. that was kind of nice to hear. i rarely hear anything good about my outtake on life. again though, it was really really good seeing them and i felt lucky to have been included.

friday, 9/15/2023: went fishing with tracy! i was debating this, since i haven't really felt like fishing in a while, it takes all day, and it gets pretty exhausting, but i figured with summer ending, with my few RDO's, and with tracy going back to work soon, there wouldn't be a ton more chances, so i'd go. and i'm really glad i did. we went out for a few hours, and i caught some perch, and got some sandcrabs and set up tracy with some giant sandcrabs with roe, and she got hit with a nice-sized guitarfish, which fought her pretty hard coming in. i was also slammed twice and my line actually snapped off at the hook, so i didn't know what hit it. it was pretty fun, and just nice to be knee deep in the water, with the hypnotic lull of the water, and seeing little things, the birds, an occasional seal. i dunno. it was kinda nice to be out there and kind of nice to reminded that there were still things that a little bit awakened my soul. afterward she was craving gyros, so we went to a place called gyromania which was pretty tasty but had the weirdest and most offputting customer service i've ever experienced. i don't even quite know how to describe it except Weird.

then we went to our respective homes, i rinsed off my legs, and then crashed, staring at my phone until night.

saturday, 9/16/2023: went with my mom to a few more open houses, none of which were impressive, then went out to lunch per usual, this time at house of joy where we got jamppong and tangsooyuk. it was good and we split the tangsooyuk and she took the jamppong leftovers home to mix up later with market noodles. i laid down for the rest of the day and didn't do any chores. just laid there and i started to feel the darkness, the horror slowly start creeping in. randomly lorena came by after work with some leftover sushi and we went to BJ's where we got some wings and beer and sad music was playing and she was showing me photos of a wedding that she and her gf had gone to in big bear the past weekend, and it completely triggered me: the wedding, big bear, i thought of how that would've been a nice place for jadai and me to get married and before i knew it, i was crying again. i eventually got out of it and saw my former waitress crush but she looked different this time and i felt kind of different about her.

sunday, 9/17/2023: absolutely nothing this day. just laid down. ate some leftovers. just nothing. my hand started hurting from holding my phone for so many consecutive hours. i felt anxious, unproductive, lazy, guilty, and also just again that deep dread, this weird anxiety and i finally took a gummy to help me sleep/not feel, and don't remember the rest of the night.

monday, 9/18/2023: had a hard time focusing for work. the day was a bit of a blur. afterward though i went to grace kim's in pasadena. maddy was being very sweet and cute, and steve got together some really delicious smoked/barbecued meat. they also served a salad and mashed potatoes, all fresh, from the farmer's market, all homemade, all really tasty. i also had a few beers and i was very sad and dark and cried a tiny bit. oh also i had a noon psychiatrist appointment and i cried and cried and she said that this was fairly normal for a break up to feel all the things.

tuesday, 9/19/2023: decided to be productive today. took out trash, picked up the mail, watered some plants, did three loads of dishes and three loads of laundry. walked to the bank, deposited a check my dad mailed me for my birthday, and also withdrew $100 in tens so i could pay my weekly work parking fee. talked a bit on the phone with lana, amir, and lorena, which was nice. i took another walk after work and listened to The Read, and i still felt pretty spooked, like just anxiety and dread gripping my soul, and like i had to keep catching my breath and forcing myself to take deep breaths, and i was a little discouraged at the fact that when i did nothing, i felt bad, and even when i did everything "right," i still didn't feel good. i'm hoping this is a passing feeling, as i have to remind myself that my circumstances haven't changed, only my feelings. and i just need to dig myself out, shovelful by shovelful.

looking ahead: wednesday, 9/20/2023: in office day. randomly got re-in touch with dana from the assessor's office, and we're planning on getting dim sum in chinatown for lunch tomorrow. i haven't seen her in forever but i'm very fond of her and we have a really similar sense of humor. she had a baby recently and has apparently been suffering from terrible anxiety, so we might have lots to catch up on.

thursday, 9/21/2023: will be coworking with danielle again in santa clarita valley. this will probably mean hanging out with her dog and going on a few walks, maybe ordering in lunch like last time. i really appreciate her and enjoy her company and i think we benefit from just being near each other to vent about our personal problems and feelings. she's been a really great and consistent friend these years.

friday, 9/22/2023: a short day at work, and will be taking off an hour to go to a midday doctor's appointment. i think i've lost a few pounds since my last visit so that should be good i guess.

saturday, 9/23/2023: caroline's baby shower in the morning, and hot flash in west hollywood at night. looking forward to both. the wholesomeness of the baby shower, and the debauchery of the night. my new friend kim from long beach bought a ticket, and LD might come too, so for once i might actually know other people at the event and not just hang around, desperate to find a friendly face.

again, today was frustrating. i was doing all of the things. dutifully walking back and forth every 45-50 minutes to pick up my laundry, etc., dutifully washing load after load of dishes, counting my calories, taking my walks, and it just felt so ... i dunno, dull? repetitive? and it takes so much to be healthy, it takes so much to feel fulfilled, and it's just so much monotony and drudgery. i need to work and eat healthily and make my bed, and scrub my toilet and take my walks and then take care of my mental health by talking to a friend, journaling, and watching The Office. it just feels like so much for so little. just feeling again, like i can't quite find the point and it's getting tiring, just round and round the wheel.

a part of me thinks that i'll find hope and joy again in a relationship. i'll have a reason to pick up a treat at the bakery and to browse a stationery store so i can write cards, a partner to go bicycling with, and play monopoly deal with on cold nights. someone to plan adventures with, and have plans every weekend. but i also know that as much as i want that, i need to be okay without that. i can't depend that much on anyone. and it's been really hard to figure out why, otherwise. it's so much upkeep with no ultimate purpose or meaning.

i'm finding myself returning to some older patterns: looking for travel deals, asking if i can tag along with others' plans and families. looking for volunteer opportunities. just looking, just ... trying to find something to do, some meaningful way to spend my time. i'm having a hard time feeling good right now, and it's doubly frustrating because i really am actively fighting it.

i ate soondubu for breakfast and lunch today, and had a spinach/fruit smoothie for dinner. i might eat a few carrots with dip later. i was losing weight for a while but a few days of haagen dazs and leftovers had me gaining it back. i'm hoping i could keep it off, and lose more. i want to dress better, and bought a couple shirts online from banana republic, and i somehow calendared a shopping day with lana in a few weeks. i realized that i dress as if i don't care about myself, the world, or how i'm perceived by others, because i don't care about them either. my whole posture is one of not really caring about existence, and i think it's a bit defeatist. i feel invisible, so i act invisible. must work on this.

[chaoticgeminate]

Kinktober 2022 - Chapter Thirty One

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I’m feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: Squirting, toys (butt plug), fooling around between trick or treaters (not advised EVER under any real circumstances this is FICTION for a reason), unprotected PiV

Free Choice - Toys (1.5k)

Underestimating Javi’s ability to source things was something you still found yourself dressed as Sally while Javi adjusted his bat bowtie, you’d chosen to forgo the full make-up and instead used eye pencil to draw the stitch lines on your skin and put on the shockingly bright red wig that looked like it was made from thread rather than synthetic hair. Red lipstick completed your look and you turned to see study your fiancé again; he’d gone full white make-up with dark black rings around his eyes with the extended lines at his lips, and since so much of his blazer was open, he’d made sure to bring the white all the way down.

Javi left his hair alone, the shape of his facial hair standing out under the white make-up, but otherwise he’d done a good job with the coverage of it. Your apartment had been decked out in a last-minute explosion of decorations, red shiny garland with fake cobwebs strung between candy canes lined your entryway where the door was left open to allow people inside.

Using command hooks to attach them to the wall you had Christmas lights fixed in place but in the shape of spider webs, it had taken ages to get them to not only work but stay where you wanted them to, and everything of value was already stashed away while the television had a horror ambiance soundtrack playing and Javi finished putting up the last of the fake cobwebs.

With the lights off and the only lighting coming from the Christmas lights your apartment looked like a void zone of Halloween and Christmas, the mini projectors with the ghosts from Nightmare Before Christmas on the walls added to the last-minute décor and you loved all of it.

All night you got compliments from parents, awed remarks from kids, and between groups you and Javi teased each other or talked depending on what door In the building the next group of kids were at.

“Solecita it is hardly 4 are you sure the kids will be showing up?” “Yes, Javi, they’ve been starting the Trick or Treating earlier and earlier.”

“Did you see the Transformer costume? He was such a cool little Bumblebee!” “Perhaps next year we should aspire to go grandiose, mi amor, I could have fun planning a large event at the olive grove.”

“Fuck- Javi they’re next door.” “You were so close, Solecita, lo siento.” “Gloves on, Skeleton King.”

“Is someone upset?” “You are a wicked tease, when you said you wanted to see how good the lipstick looked on me I thought you meant-“ “Well you’re wearing white make up Javi, only choice to indulge would be to shade check in other places and there are children coming in and out.”

“I want one.” “Solecita-“ “She was so cute, Javi!” “I am allergic, but we could get a dog?” “Okay, that’s fair.”

When the last of the candy was gone -your custom modified Christmas chocolate mixed with Halloween treats proving to be a big hit- you and Javi put the sign up on the door saying you were out before deciding clean up would happen tomorrow. Heading right for your too small bathroom together, though Javi went to the sink first to get as much of the white makeup off as he could before he got under the water stream.

You were nearly done and getting out, since the shower was barely able to fit him comfortably on his own, and Javi caught your hand to pull you in for a searing kiss first.

Focusing more on drying than dressing, since there was little point, you felt a little tremor of excitement shoot through you at wondering how Javi would react to your surprise. It had been fun to slip away during set-up to get a plug in, how he hadn’t noticed when he’d slipped his hand up your dress between groups you would never know, but it meant more fun for you when he find it.

A rather fun idea made you giggle and lay back on the  so you were propped on the pillows, moaning softly when you began to let one hand glide down your body. The soft touch made you shiver as you imagined him hearing you and rushing through the rest of his shower, wondering if he would surrender control it take it.

Your next breathy sound was louder, loud enough that he definitely heard you since the water cut off.

“Solecita, what do you think you are you doing?”

His tone was sharp and deep, you looked up at him through hooded eyes as he stood in the doorway. You met his stare with a look of defiance and whimpered as you slipped your fingers down through your folds, earning a small sound not unlike a growl from him as he watched you part your lips for him. Letting him see how wet you were, see the shine of your arousal as it leaked down your slit.

His nostrils flared when your hips rolled up, as you circled your clit, and Javi crossed the room in maybe three strides to snatch your hand away from your body and roll you over onto your stomach. You felt him discover the plug, the way he gasped out a soft “bebita” before he was picking your hips up and pressing your upper body into the mattress, and since the last time you were in this position he had been driving into you with the intent to breed you… you clenched around nothing with a whine.

“Javi-“

“Look at you. So wet already, but you seemed happy to take care of yourself. You even have something to fill you here.” He pressed against the base of the plug, making you try to rock back for more of the sensation.

“Wanted t’ surprise you-“

“Oh, I am surprised, bebita. But I don’t want to interrupt your fun, I just wanted a better view. Go ahead, make yourself cum.”

He grabbed your hand, the one he’d pulled away, and lifted it to cup your pussy, urging you to continue what you were doing; your desperate little whine and the way your hand slipped through your folds with a wet sound had your knees widening as you rocked down against the press of your fingers.

Javi watched you touch yourself, and you could feel how close he was to you by his breath on your skin, the soft kisses to the backs of your thighs and the breathy little curses he was breathing against your skin when you would dip your fingers into your body to make sure you showed him just how wet and ready you were for him.

It was only when you were so close to that peak, when your breathing was erratic and you could feel it right there, that he slid his cock home; the fullness you felt of him and the plug was so much and you felt the hot rush of your orgasm soak him and your legs and definitely the sheets below. Javi didn’t even last two full thrusts before he was filling you, just as overwhelmed as you were feeling, and the two of you were left panting hard as your body trembled from the sensations.

“Fuck, you were so tight and wet- I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. Bebita, can you handle more?”

“Always, mi prometido.”

He grinned when you looked over your shoulder at him and when he moved again, he did it in a way that let him close his left hand over yours, allowing you to see your rings beside each other and catching the low lighting of your bedside lamp, and Javi pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Be careful, mi prometida, I am a greedy man.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He chuckled in your ear and ground himself inside of you, making you whimper.

“You can believe that I will keep all of my promises, Solecita, starting with the most important one of all. I promise to love you and be by your side from now until the end of eternity.”

He was such a fucking romantic, even buried in you like this, and you loved him so much for it.

“I promise to support you and love you and do anything in my power to make sure you have a reason to smile by my side, from now until eternity.”

Javi whimpered, a broken sound, and the tender way he rocked into you as he draped himself more onto your body was so all encompassing and perfect and you made sure he knew it.

“So good to me, Javi.” “Feels so amazing, the way you love me is always what I need.”

“You’re a good man cariño, I love you with all that I am.”

Javi’s choked off whimper in your shoulder, the feeling of his body going rigid and his balls drawing up, made you sure that for the rest of your lives and the rest of your eternity you would make sure he knew just how much you loved him and how glad you were that he had found you.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Kinktober Only: @nicolethered @katareyoudrilling

[dreamescapeswriting]

Scardey Cat ~ KSM [Halloween Collab]

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

PAIRING: Seungmin x GN!Reader

GENRE: Fluffy, halloween collab, established relationship, scared Seungmin, going through a haunted house together.

A/N: This is part of a cute halloween collab I wanted to do! Please make sure to check out the other peoples writings!!! I’ll put a link HERE

It was pitch black outside and everywhere Seungmin seemed to turn there was some kind of monster or kid scaring people. The only things that were really lighting up the area were pumpkins and some street lights lining the ground. Why had he thought that this would be a good idea? He figured that you would get scared and hold onto him tighter but it seemed to be the other way around now. 

Dressed as a vampire Seungmin had his arm wrapped around your body, looking down at you whenever he had a chance. You and the rest of the boys had decided to go to scarefest together and the second you arrived they all left. Everyone decided to dress up claiming that it would be fun, since you were all adults and couldn't really go trick or treating anymore this was the most fun you were going to get out of Halloween. Though looking back on everything Seungmin was beginning to regret his decision of agreeing to come to some huge scary event. He figured it would scary for little kids but not for adults but it was pitch black and things were EVERYWHERE. People would randomly come out of hiding spots to scare you, or they would have horror movie scenes reenacted in front of you. 

Seungmin's hand was locked with yours as he glanced around at the people in costumes around you. It was hard to determine which were the characters being paid to scare everyone and who was just there for the fun. 

"We should do a haunted house! It'll be fun!" The excitement in your voice made it hard for Seungmin to say no to you. All he ever wanted to do was make you happy, even if it meant doing something he knew that he was going to hated. Haunted houses weren't exactly Seungmin's idea of fun, especially on Halloween night when there were so many scary things happening at once.

A tug of your hand snapped Seungmin away from his daydream and he glanced around him. The two of you were standing in a section between four different haunted houses. All of them are busy except for one. No one seemed to be lining up for it which meant it had to mean that it was the least scary if no one was going to it. He hoped you wouldn't think it was because he was scared, the last thing Seungmin wanted to do was come across as scared in front of you. This was all about tyring to impress you, to show that he could do things like this with you every year.

"This one, it looks like we'll be the first ones in," Seungmin said in a relieved tone, talking with you proudly in the direction of the booth.

By now, Seungmin was glad that the boys had all rushed off to go and do their own thing. God Forbid that they would catch Seungmin even the least be afraid, he would never hear the end of it.

"You okay?" You questioned, glancing up to your boyfriend who nodded his head anxiously. He wasn't though, he was terrified, he knew this was going to be a walk in the park if no one was around. This whole thing had been a way to impress you. Taking you somewhere he knew you would enjoy, agreeing to dress up with you because he knew just how much you loved Halloween.

It was your favourite time of year, it got dark earlier. The drinks were spicier and you could spend all of your cosy days curled up with Seugmin whenever he had some time off from work.

"Perfect," He breathed leaning down to kiss you when a folder was placed in front of you both. 

"Before entering you need to sign this," The man who was running the ticket booth ordered as he stared at you. Although he wasn't in a costume he seemed scary enough, sitting there staring at you both as though he was going to eat you. 

"Please know that the attraction isn't responsible for any accidents resulting in injury and or death?" You read out to Seungmin, eyes widening as you turned to see if he was scared but he wasn't. At least he didn't appear to be, on the inside Seungmin's heart was thumping against his chest. 

"How scary can it be?" He scoffed as he signed his name along the dotted line. Watching Seungmin you went for it, signing your name and looking to him as he took your hand in his. Squeezing it once more before taking you through a blacked out door.

The second the door shut the room was dark, couldn't even see two feet in front of you dark. Instantly your arms wrapped around Seungmin so tightly you couldn't be able to lose him. Lights flickered above you when a man suddenly came out from a door, clutching a chainsaw and revving it close to your face. You let out a blood-curdling scream as you clung onto Seungmin for help but he tried to run in the other direction. 

"Seungmin!" You screamed pulling him back to you as you kept hold of his hand.

"No! No leaving me!" You whimpered a little, looking around as the man with the chainsaw suddenly left you again, going into another door you couldn't see.

Moving into a lighter room you both clung to one another. Not excepting something to come crawling out from the floors and grabbing your ankle. Another scream came from your lips as you jumped into Seungmin's arms, he practically picked you up and carried you through. 

"H-Here, there's a light it's almost over." He whispered taking you through to another hallway only it was different and it wasn't a way out. He figured that if there were bright lights it meant you were almost out of the way and you could get out sooner than he thought. 

The walls were lined with red and white striped paper and carnival music was playing. Clowns were the first thing you thought of as you looked around but there was no one there. No creepy people in costumes, no windows or doors for someone to come screaming at you.

"M-Maybe no one is here," You stuttered as Seungmin placed you down, moving so he was standing side by side with you. Hand clutching in yours once again as he glanced around looking for someone. Seungmin expected something to happen but you couldn't see anything happening, 

"What if-" As soon as you tried to speak a clown came rushing out from underneath some seats. Screaming and waving a knife around. Pushing your body up against the wall and screaming in your face putting up a  fake blade to your neck. Whimpering he finally let you down and you rushed to Seungmin, deciding between you both to rush out as soon as you could. Your hands were practically digging into Seungmin's skin as you looked around frantically.

"Speed run this bitch," You whispered as you both began to walk through the halls. Doing your best not to get scared or fall oven whenever someone came rushing out at you. Fake blood splashing everywhere and knives and chainsaws roaring to life every time someone came out to scare you.

Both of you screaming and jumping the whole time but as you got to the end Seungmin was beginning to adapt. Screaming at characters that were scaring you both more than once, yelling out orders to you as he pulled you through the house. The two of you were covered in fake blood and your outfits completely messed up from the jumping you were doing.

"I-It's light, so that means that there won't be anyone coming when there's-" Someone came screaming out at him and Seungmin yelled out, dropping to the floor as soon as the room you were in plunged into darkness. Your back pressed against the wall, scared as you could no longer feel your boyfriend by your side.

"Y/n?!" He yelled grabbing someone's hand and dragging them through the room, his eyes looking for any kind of light he could find. Not focusing on the fact that you weren't speaking to him like you had all of the ways through the house.

"We're safe. We're good." He breathed holding the person that he thought was you but as he turned the lights came on and he screamed. A clown staring at him with his head tilted to the side. 

"SEUNGMIN!" You cried out racing towards him and grabbing him as you began to head toward the exit. Racing as quickly as possible when Seungmin put you in front of him, blocking a scare from him and putting you in his place. 

"S-Seungmin!" You whined as you finally got out of the house, dropping down onto the floor and whimpering a little. The two of you sweating and panting heavily with one another, your hands linking together on the ground.

Seungmin kept his arms around you as you both tried to catch your breath, whimpering a little as he kept his arm around you. You held back a little laugh as you looked up to see Seungmin so scared about everything, his face pale as he stared at you.

"H-How about next year, we stay at home and hand put sweets?" You whispered, laying your head on Seungmin's shoulder the moment your heart calmed down. The shock on his face as he looked down at you, he hadn't expected there to be a next year of you together after what he had done to you in there.

"There's a next year together?" He joked as he held your hand as tightly as he could get you. 

"Always." You breathed out, getting up from the floor. Brushing off your knees and looking at Seungmin as he blushed slightly.

"Even if you did think I was a clown and then sacrifice me because you didn't want to get scared." You teased as he groaned at the thought of it.

"Come on...Text the boys that we'll catch a cab." You laughed softly, stroking your hand over his cheek as he snuggled into it, leaning against your touch and relaxing a little more. 

The two of you went home and the whole time Seungmin clutched your hands never once letting go. Even when you finally climbed into bed with one another, he wasn't going to let go of you ever again.

Tagline: @minholuvs​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​

[heyitsyn]

RANDOM SEIJOH HCs ACCORDING TO GIGI

a/n: this is a thing i cooked up between doing trig exam and ap gov review akdsjfldskfj

IM PRETTY SURE I ALREADY USED THIS GIF BUT IM WANTING TO RE-DO MY ENTIRE PAGE AND MAKING BANNERS SO THIS IS A TEMPORARY THING AJDJDJJD ALSO I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO THE KEEP READING THING ON THE APP BYE

oikawa def listens to indie music just bc he wants to feel unique and the 'iM diFfErENt fRoM oTHeR gUrLs' vibes

i FIRMLY BELIEVE IWAIZUMI HAJIME IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO CHOMPS ON HIS ICE CREAM BC HE LIKES TO FEEL THE COLD ON HIS TEETH AKSJSKSKSK

meanwhile kunimi eats a kitkat like its pizza just CHOMP

makki caNNOT sleep without a pillow between his thighs LIKE LISTEN he has 2 sisters and they all told him its so comfortable and at first he was like,, ??,, then he tried and now cant sleep without it

bUT MATTSUN LIKES TO SLEEP WITH PILLOWS SURROUNDING HIM bc it makes him feel safe and like there are two body pillows on either side of him and hes kinda trapped in the middle aksjskdk

when kyo was younger, he was really short and although he had other pants, he loved this one pair but they were really long on him and he wore it all the time and the part of the pants that touched the ground is torn in shreds

kindaichi steps on the sofa before sitting LIKE puts one foot on the cushion then the other until hes literally standing on the couch before folding to sit with his knees up to his chest (i do this)

watari sniffs his food before eating it no matter if its something he eats all the time or something new, he still sniffs it either way

yahaba is really particular with his feet and he likes to get a really big tupperware (duh one only meant for his feet) and fill it up with warm almost boiling water and he just soaks them

oikawa has sleep paralysis and he oftens hallucinates about aliens in the corner of his room

kunimi does this thing where he makes weird noises with his mouth like sounds of his mouth opening LIKE when youre tastinf something new and you do that sound with your tongue (I DUNNO HOW TO DESCRIBE IT AJDKSKKD)

makki bends his knees just to crack his ankles

iwa sneezes a ton but he has those sneezes where theyre quiet that you dont even notice or really loudly that it just echoes throughout the gym

kyo sleeps with one sock on bc his feet gets cold easily but both socks make him feel really hot so only one sock is perfect

for a tall and hunk of a guy, mattsun is a very light walker like his footsteps are very light and if he wants to, it can be practically silent

watari actually hates vegetables ajssksksk he particularly hates zucchini, eggplants, any vegetables that are that shape

kindaichi likes to stick or lean against walls because to him, they feel cold and can decrease his body heat

oikawa stands and places his feet at V position like \/ instead of ll because his sister did ballet and he was taught that was the right way of standing and it was considered graceful

yahaba has a fear of cactuses

mattsun does so badly in the heat because his body temp runs so high and the hot surroundings make him feel so uncomfortable and so he takes a lot of cold showers

iwa cannot swim like he freaks out immediately when his toetips can no longer feel the bottom and he panics with thoughts of drowning

watari has really small feet that he still buys big kids shoes to save money

kyotani considered playing baseball because he thought baseball bats were cool but he got angry and threw tantrum after missing his first pitch

iwa chomps on a whole raw chili while eating ramen akskksks

oikawa actually hates sweets bc when he was younger, he had cavities and iwa showed him a cartoon of cavities eating his teeth and will make him toothless

kindaichi really really likes hugs but hes too awkward to ask them even from his parents

yahaba chomps on mints so he goes through boxes of them in a week

i feel like theres a boy in the team who doesnt brush their teeth everyday and rubs a towel on their teeth to make it look clean and take mints to hide their bad breath

iwaizumi is actually iron deficient so he bruises super super fast and he even developed iron defiency anemia when he was younger bc his parents didnt catch on which caused him to be put on strong medication for months and still takes it now

WAIT,, OIKAWA IS LACTOSE INTOLERANT BUT HE LIKES MILK SO HE EATS MILK BREAD TO MAKE HIM FEEL NOT SO BAD OR GUILTY OF CONSUMING STRAIGHT DAIRY

seijoh four bonding time is watching gordom ramsey shows and yelling and screaming 'YEA! EXACTLY!' as if theyre also cooking genuises

watari used to eat grapes all the time until his mom got worried and told him if he doesnt stop, he will eventually turn into one. he only eats it every few weeks

when he was younger, kunimi cried because he had befriended a chicken on a trip to a farm and his mom took him to eat fried chicken after and he thought it was Chicky (his chicken friend :"))

kyotani used to stick out his tongue when it was raining so he could taste the raindrops. they taste better than bottled water

one time, during a seijoh sleepover, they dared oikawa to wear his sisters old uniform, skirt and all, and it backfired so everyone turned red and couldnt look at him in the face

their pregame ritual is touching each other's shoe tips

they tried doing yoga at yahaba's house before by watching yoga youtube videos but everyone ended up having to go to the chiropractor after (how did makki even turn into the human pretzel?)

the local gym gets so scared when they see the team coming through the doors bc these men are so LOUD like they HYPE EACH OTHER UP SO MUCH THEYRE SO ANNOYING AKSKSKDK

also never take them to an all you can eat sushi place. if you do, bring them earlier of the day like 30 mins after opening time so the cooks can cook enough for them without running out of ingredients (even then sometimes they still run out)

oikawa used to eat his mom's roses from her garden because he thought it would make his farts smell good like roses

takahiro is a surprisingly good artist like he draws really cool action fighting scenes in the corner of his papers and stuff

in my work: it's canon that iwa is half filo and his nanay used to dress him up in a barong all the time during halloween bc she wanted him to showcase his heritage

yahaba drinks a lot of milk because he hopes to one day grow strong and bulky like the 3rd years instead of being seen as a pretty boy

kindaichi's mom is a hairstylist and she always scolds him for using a lot of gel bc she's always the one who washes his hair

makki never learned how to do taxes and hes had the government knocking on his door a handful of times (BOKUTO AKKDJSKKS)

kyo has a dog: a chiweenie

there's someone on the team who wears those socks with individual pockets for toes

their pinterest is so different from what they look like for example, mattsun has a board of different flower decorations and arrangements

kunimi throws up during intense horror movies

watari's celeb crush is emma watson

the team alternates from different music genres like from ateez and bts to mxmtoon and beach bunny

they still dont know how to pronounce camila cabello's name

theyre all active in social media but only oikawa is on it 24/7 and in all platforms while the others have insta and snap

mattsun has twins as little siblings and he used to get them mixed up all the time that he used to draw a sharpie dot on the girl's forehead to determine she was his sister

watari hates sitting on the floor bc his butt bone hurts really easily so he can only sit on cushions for long periods of time

the team was supposed to have a party but everyone didnt know what to bring so they proved they shared the same braincell by bringing the same thing: a box of pizza

makki's an old soul and prefers to play records on a record player or watch old movies

kyo is surprisingly good at giving massages because he really pushed hard on those tense muscles

kindaichi knows how to crack necks so everyone goes to him a lot to do it (a friend of mine does this and can i say its terrifying yet so good?)

the only one who has a license is matsukawa and thats because granny needs to go to the doctor a lot and he hates her walking by herself and cabs are expensive

kyotani and yahaba are actually,,, lowkey close,,, not like best friends but theyre nice to each other and they got a stick and poke together (yahaba's was: :) while kyo's was: >:))

watari has a collection of mangas (some bl maybe ����)

WARNING SAD: mattsun’s future job is a funeral person right? he ends up taking care of granny’s funeral free of charge and he had to take a week off because it was really painful for him

oikawa learned spanish SUPER fast to the point he forgets japanese sometimes but there are moments where he forgets both languages and hes just,,,, ???

makki’s unemployed yea but he rooms with mattsun in exchange of cooking because makki’s surprisingly good at cooking

iwa is practically the nutritionist of the team because he knows everything about proteins, carbs, iron, and needed vitamins so they all go to him to know what to eat and what they need

kunimi has lots and lots of shoes but usually only wears 2

kindaichi has a habit of pretending hes chewing gum even though he doesnt have gum, his mouth just chomps and moves with air akasldfjkf

there was a clown phenomenon in america but in their city, they had a mascots and seijoh 4 went around scaring kids :”(

oikawa never manspreads he gets too insecure to spread out like that akdjfkd

kyotani can easily sleep anywhere like he would be standing and just fall asleep or he sleeps with his eyes open

yahaba’s parents own a restaurant somewhere in the city and he works there sometimes

IM REALLY GOING TOO MUCH ABOUT THIS YALL AKSDJFKL

SORRY IM WRITING TOO MUCH I FEEL BAD THAT I HAVENT UPDATED BUT IM IN A CAR RIDE RN AND I WAS ABLE TO WRITE AGAIN AND MY EXAMS HAVE FINISHED THIS WEEK IMMA CRY

PLEASE, FEEL FREE TO REPLY WITH ANY OTHER HCS YOU GUYS KNOW OF SO I CAN PUT IT IN HERE AND CREDIT YOU WITH IT SO WE CAN HAVE LIKE A HCS BOOK FROM EVERYONE BUT THIS IS WHAT I STARTED WITH

oikawa screams a lot according to gigi but he’s actually a really quiet guy and not easy to scare

OKAY YOU GUYS DONT KILL ME I SWEAR IVE BEEN SO TERRIBLE AT WRITING BUT YOU KNOW WHO TURNED ONE TODAY? THIS PAGE!!! MY BABY IS ONE ALREADY 😭😭😭 ANYWAYS, HOPE THIS CAN MAKE YOU GUYS SMILE TODAY AND SCHOOL ENDS NEXT WEEK AND IM ALREADY AT 132 DRAFTS AMSJKSDKSK SO OH MY GOD THERES GOING TO BE SO MUCH COMING AND IM SO EXCITED TO GET THEM OUT 😩😩

[corruptedconfessions]

Yandere!Brownie!Fatgum x reader

This is my piece for the Lovesick server Collab! There are tons of amazing fics posted and will be posted for this Collab so be sure to look into it!

This isn’t my favorite piece I’ve done, and it’s not proof read at all... but I hope it’s still a treat for today! Happy Halloween! 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up feeling warm and comfortable, comforter tucked tight under your chin. Everything still felt a little fuzzy, your body warm and comfortable as the feeling slowly came back to you. You were almost tempted to close your eyes again, drift back off to sleep and just stay in this warm cozy feeling even longer.

But you had things to do today, and you couldn’t do them if you stayed in bed. So with a reluctant groan, you pulled yourself out of the comfy nest you had made, throwing the blankets to the side off of you. You frowned in displeasure when your bare feet hit the cold wooden floors, immediately heading to your dresser to pull on some socks to fight off the chill in your toes. Fall was just starting to settle in, it wasn’t cold enough for you to light the wood furnace in the living room, unfortunately, you hadn’t saved up enough to upgrade to central heating, so you figured fuzzy socks and thick sweaters would become a regular as the temperature continued to drop.

You hummed softly to yourself, scratching your head as you made your way down the stairs, heading directly to your kitchen to grab some food.

Much to your delight you came down to a spotless kitchen, the pile of dishes in your sink from your cooking excursion the night before completely clean and left on the drying rack. Counters that had flour and sugar spilled in small spots where you had been messy with the measuring were wiped clean and buffed, left polished and shiny. Even the floor was sparkling, you had left it clean when you went to bed but it was clearly freshly mopped and swept. They really did spoil you, didn’t they?

“Thank you!”

You called out into the empty room, knowing that thanks weren’t exactly necessary, if anything it was pointless. You had been warned when you had first moved in about the little…inhabitant of your house beforehand. A little trickster who had chased out all the previous owners and caused the house price to drop so harshly. The Realtor had told you that if you were to stay in the house you must leave offerings for them on the hearth unless you wanted to be chased out like everyone else had.

You had taken her words to heart, leaving bowls of milk or cream on the hearth every night. Every morning when you woke up the offering was gone and you were left be, never seeing head nor tail of whatever being you shared your home with. At least until one night, you decided to leave a little something extra, you had baked some cookies that night and had way too many leftovers. You had wondered if the creature would enjoy a little treat as well, so that night you had left a few cookies next to the milk you left out. Come morning both the cookies and milk were gone, not even a crumb left behind. This had started the tradition of leaving out sweets and baked goods for him, some cake you had leftover, brownies you had baked in your free time, anything that you made that was sweet was left on a plate on the hearth before you went to bed.

It wasn’t long after that that you noticed a change. Every morning when you came downstairs you would find chores done, the house left spotless. Any dishes left at the sink were cleaned, dried, and neatly put away. Any mess on the counters from your baking was cleaned up, not a spot left behind. Floors were mopped and sparkling, laundry was done and put away neatly. The only explanation was that whoever was here enjoyed your offerings so much that they decided to treat you as well. It had been months since you had last needed to do any form of housework, any free time was spent baking and perfecting recipes for your little helper that worked in the night.

Maybe it was strange but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of attachment to the little creature who helped you out so much. They always seemed to do so much for you for a small plate of treats…Maybe you should make them something special?

You hummed to yourself, musing over ideas of a special treat to bake next as you wondered about your kitchen, oblivious to the golden eyes watching you from the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

Unfortunately, you wouldn’t have time to think about let alone start baking anything that night.

It was just meant to be a quick dinner date. Nothing special, food, a few hours of chatting, and you were done. It seemed fate had a different plan for you. It had all started with the meal you had spent hours on, slaving over and making everything taste perfect had somehow ended up with your saltshaker broken on top, leaving it covered in too much glass and salt to even begin to salvage. Then every single meal after that went horribly wrong, Ingredient you swore you had disappeared, bowls shattering when your back was turned, mixtures and food would fall over and spill when left unsupervised. After numerous attempts, you found yourself frazzled, on the brink of tears with barely an hour until your date was supposed to show up.

You almost wanted to call him and cancel the date then and there.

By some miracle, you had managed to hold your resolve to not call him and cancel. Thirty minutes, a phone call for delivery from your favorite restaurant, and a shower later you found yourself hovering anxiously by the front door, waiting.

You had been so excited when the knock at the door finally came, barely reminding yourself to wait a second before slowly walking over to open the door. The second you saw his face, smiling back at you with his coat wrapped tight around him, all your frustration from the earlier incidents had melted away. You felt…lighter. Excited for the night ahead. Like you could still make this work.

“Come on, You must be cold!”

You had stepped aside so he could come in, taking his coat from him, turning around for just a brief second to hang it up when he had yelled. You had spun around to find your date on the floor next to where he had kicked off his shoes, clutching his hand in agony.

“What happened?!”

You rushed to his side, gasping in horror when you saw his hand. He was shaking hard, his entire palm white with angry red edges around the side of his hand, burnt like he had shoved his entire hand onto a hot stovetop.

“Y-your doorknob!”

You blinked in confusion looking up at your normal-looking doorknob that you had touched only moments earlier to open the door. It almost seemed to stare innocently back at you, looking the exact same as it always does.

“It doesn’t matter, come on, let's get you a cold rag.”

That should have been your second warning, a warning that your date was doomed to fail. You should have listened to it, but you didn’t. You just brushed off the unsettling feeling of being watched, the heavy feeling of anger in the air. You had even stared in confusion with your date when you turned back from grabbing him a cold wet rag just to find his hand completely fine as if it had never been hurt at all. The illusion of pain was still etched into your date's face as you had carefully run your fingers over his palm, confused when you felt the unmarred flesh.

Both of you had chosen to laugh off the weird moment both of you had experienced, instead turning to busy yourself with getting the take out set onto plates. The idle awkward conversation quickly melted into something more warm and familiar as you bumped against each other while grabbing plates, the soft brushes against each other chasing off the freezing chill that settled into the air.

Once the table was set, covered in plates of food, the warm delicious aroma filling the air along with your laughter. You had offered him a seat as you moved to your own, gaze turned away when a loud snap grabbed your attention. You had spun around to find your date crumpled on the floor, chair completely broken and splintered beneath him. You had rushed to his side, helping him up, hands dragging across his body as you helped him brush off the splinters that covered his body.

It had just gotten worse from thereon. The happy atmosphere was gone, both of you left unable to talk for more than a few seconds as a heavy dark feeling settled down over the house, accompanied by more…incidents with your date. You had offered him another chair, only for him to discover it was covered in thumbtacks, something neither of you realized until he had sat down. Of course when you had rushed to his side, helping him pull the tacks out of his pants and brush them off the seat a bowl of hot soup had fallen over, spilling across his legs and burning him. You were left completely untouched, not even a drop got on you despite being only inches away from him.

The rest of the night continued like this; Every time you turned your back or even looked away from your date for a split second your attention would always be yanked back to him by a pained yell or expletive. Something always went wrong, and as your date grew more battered, he grew angrier as the night went on. 

Which was exactly how you found yourself here, your date practically towering over you, face flushed red in rage. Gone was the light-hearted and kind man you had been going on dates with, instead replaced with frustration and anger, all pointed at you.

“Do you think this is some kind of joke? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You stared up at your date with wide frantic eyes, reaching out for him as you shook your head rapidly, only for him to pull away from you. Your gaze dragged down to the milk-soaked shoes on the floor, sopping wet and ruined. You could smell the scent of curdled milk from where you stood.

“What- No! Of course not! I didn’t do this- I was with you the whole time! I don’t understand what’s happening-”

You were cut off as he held his hand up, face pulled tight as he turned away from you, walking over to the door as he spoke to you in a cold tone.

“Forget it. I’m done. We’re over.”

You could feel tears blurring in your eyes as you watched him yank on his coat, picking up his milk-soaked shoes, holding them in one hand as he swung the door open, storming out into the cold night in his socks.

The slam of the door behind him followed by the deafening silence is what finally broke you. Tears streamed down your face freely, a soft choked sob breaking the deafening quiet that weighed down on you. You didn’t understand what was happening! You had…really liked this guy and now he was gone.

You had been looking forward to this night so much for so long…You had gotten so excited to finally get out of your lonely bubble of solitude. But as usual, you had fucked it all up…That’s what you get for holding so much hope. 

You cried harder, nearly tripping over yourself as you stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom, flinging yourself onto your bed as you sobbed into your pillow. All the frustration and anger from your fight and all the little tricks and little things that kept going wrong throughout the night flowing out of you onto your pillow.

You stayed like that, still in your nice outfit, hair perfectly done, sobbing into your pillow until you fell asleep.

The mantle place was left empty, no offering sitting atop the wood for the first time since you had moved in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

It was still dark when you woke up, so dark that your groggy brain couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or closed. You contemplated that for a few minutes as your groggy brain wondered why you had woken up and considered rolling over and going back to sleep.

 But you couldn’t.

 Slowly you became more and more aware of the suffocating atmosphere that weighed down on you. The air felt thick and heavy…suffocating. So much so that you could hear your own heavy breathes, deep, raspy...angry.

 That wasn’t you breathing.

 Suddenly awake you felt your heart starting to pound as you peeked your eyes open, starting to tremble at what you saw. There, standing at the foot of your bed was a creature; golden eyes glowing in the dark, face twisted into a deeply angered snarl as he stood towering over you.

 “You forgot.”

 The voice vibrated hard through the air, weighing down on you as you lay frozen in your bed, unable to do much other than stare up at him in panic. Forgot? Forgot what-

 You gasped softly. The offering.

 “I-I’m sorry-! I-I can s-still-”

 “No!”

 You flinched back whimpering as he snarled down at you, eyes glowing brighter against the darkness as he stepped closer. The bed creaked harshly under his weight as he crawled atop you, golden eyes blazing with rage as you laid underneath him, unable to bring yourself to do anything but stare up at him in pure terror. Was he going to crush you?

 “You brought that…man into our home. You fed him, but not me. Selfish, silly little human. Is this some sort of tantrum? Did I not do enough for you? You had to go look to…someone else to fill your needs? Was I not satisfactory enough for you?”

 You whimpered pressing back hard against your pillow as he leaned in, holding himself up so he was nothing more than a warmth covering your entire body, but you were painfully aware of how easily he could crush you…suffocate you.

 “N-no-! I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean to forget it was just that my date-”

 Wrong thing to say. In an instant, the face that had slowly started melting into something softer, sweeter immediately hardened again. Rage sparked in his eyes as the air grew heavier around him, as did he. You gasped for air, jumping slightly when a hand moved to grip your chin, fingers splaying out across your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut as he tilted his head down at you, face slowly melting away from anger to something different, something…scarier. He completely disregarded your words as he inspected your face, his touch staying gentle despite the rage that poured off him so heavily you could almost taste it.

 “Or is that you forgot about me? Forgot what we had just because I did not mesh our lips together like he did, or touch your body in the ways he has.”

 You whimpered, tears starting to burn in your eyes as you curled in on yourself. You found yourself pitifully batting at his hands as he let go of your face, instead moving to slide his touch downwards, grabbing at your chest and brushing against your sides as he drank in your expressions.

 You found yourself helpless to do anything as he easily pulled your shirt off over your head, large hands immediately moving to touch you, rubbing and grabbing at everything he could reach as he slowly moved down. Your pants and underwear were quick to go too, leaving you bare and vulnerable against the cold night air. Not to worry, he will keep you warm all...night…long.

 He’ll make sure you will never forget him again

[theladyofdeath]

The Rocky Horror Picture Show & Rowan Whitethorn {Rowaelin}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 29.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Warning: language.

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Aelin stood in front of the old movie theater, starting to think no one else would show up. The Rocky Horror Picture Show was starting in ten minutes, and it was one of Aelin’s favorite movies, so if she missed the beginning, she was going to riot. 

After one look at her phone, she began to pace.

“Hey.”

Aelin spun around, only to look into the eyes of a sheepish Rowan Whitethorn, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Hey,” she said, stomach doing a flip as she took him in. His navy shirt made his green eyes sparkle and his hair was pushed back off of his face. He was far too handsome for his own good.

“Have you seen Remelle around? I guess we’re all supposed to be meeting up here,” he asked, glancing around them. “Sorry, I’m late,” he added, looking at her and blushing.

“I haven’t, and Dorian isn’t answering his phone,” she sighed. “If they don’t hurry, we’re all going to be late and miss the beginning.”

When Dorian had asked her on a double date at the beginning of the week, she’d laughed in his face until she realized he was serious.

“Dorian, you’re one of my best friends,” she’d began.

He’d chuckled too and told her that it wasn’t a date date, but rather they’d be going to the movie together. He’d even pay for her ticket. Once he told her what movie was playing, she couldn’t say no.

She regretted it as soon as he told her who the other couple was.

Now, as Dorian wasn’t here, she was regretting it even more.

And seriously wanted to kick Dorian’s ass. 

Rowan took out his phone and called Remelle. It rang a few times before an apparent answer came. “Hey, are you….oh? Huh. I see….”

Aelin could hear her voice on the other end, but couldn’t make out the words.

“Right. No, that’s, uh...fine. Alright. Bye.” After hanging up, he put his phone back into his pocket. “It’s just you and me, Galathynius.”

And suddenly, she didn’t want to kick Dorian’s ass anymore.

“Oh,” she said, eyebrows raising. “Okay. Cool.”

She and Rowan had been inseparable all throughout their childhoods, and then middle school had come along. Rowan started hanging out with his football buddies, while Aelin was getting in close with the kids from her drama club. And then, before they knew it, they weren’t so inseparable anymore. As it were, they pretty much never saw each other.

Middle school came and went, and they ended up at different high schools. And then Rowan’s family had moved to Wendlyn.

Aelin was pretty sure she’d never see her old friend again, until he walked into her pre-med class at University of Adarlan on the first day of the semester.

And he was all grown up.

She had always thought that Rowan Whitethorn was cute, had always had a little crush on him but that was back when a crush seemed like true love. Now? Rowan Whitethorn was a man, and he wasn’t cute.

He was hot as hell.

“So, should we…?” he began, gesturing to the double doors that led inside of the old theater.

Aelin begged her cheeks not to redden. “Yes. Yeah. Let’s go.”

“I have to tell you,” Rowan began, fishing his ticket out of his pocket as they entered through the doors. “I’ve never seen this movie.”

Aelin stopped and looked at him, wide-eyed. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged. “Not sure it’s really my thing.” 

“It’s everyone’s thing whether it’s their thing or not,” Aelin protested, shaking her head.

Rowan snorted. “I’ll pretend like that made sense.”

“Just…keep an open mind,” Aelin laughed.

Smiling, Rowan glanced over at her. “Deal.”

After getting popcorn and some candy - a movie theater staple, Aelin claimed - they found a couple of open seats about halfway up and right in the middle. They were still a few minutes away from the light going down, and Aelin leaned against the arm rest between them. “So,” she said, glancing up at him. “Confession time.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh, yeah?”

“I wasn’t actually coming with Dorian tonight on the double date, we were just coming as friends,” she was blushing, but she had no idea why. “I was just coming because he said you wanted a double date with Remelle.”

The handful of popcorn Rowan was about to eat paused halfway to his mouth and he looked down at Aelin. “Remelle and I were coming as friends. She told me you were nervous for your date with Dorian and needed another couple here.”

“That little shit,” Aelin said, under her breath. “They set us up.”

Rowan blinked, then cocked his head to the side. “Huh.”

Aelin hesitated. “Was that a good huh or a bad huh?”

Rowan laughed under his breath. “It was a This was unexpected but I’m not disappointed, huh.” 

Aelin couldn’t help her smile, but before she could say anymore, the lights went down. A thrum of excitement swept through the theater as the giant screen was brought to life and the movie began.

Aelin couldn’t help glancing over at Rowan every few minutes, and every time she did, he had a stupid little grin on his lips.

He knew she was watching him, alright.

Before they knew it the movie was over and they were exiting the theater with the rest of the movie goers. Rowan was chuckling. “I see what you meant about keeping an open mind.”

She shook her head. “It’s a lot to take in, that’s for sure.”

He couldn’t stop the quiet laughter as they made their way over to their cars. They paused at Rowan’s truck, just a few spots down from Aelin’s car, and he tapped out a rhythmic beat on the tailgate. “So you never told me how you feel about this set up?”

“Hmm?” She hummed quietly, playing dumb.

He didn’t fall for it, but he humored her, if only because he liked the way she was looking at him. “How our friends tricked us into going on a date together?”

The little gasp she let out was over the top. “Is that what this was? Huh.”

He snorted, and dropped the tailgate of his truck. He hopped up, sitting on the cool metal and patted the spot next to him. “So. Just like you asked me earlier. Good huh or bad huh?”

“Just huh,” she grinned, hopping up beside him. “I guess there’s worse company to keep.”

He tossed a hand over his heart. “I’m honored.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “I’m not too mad about it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good,” he said, quietly, looking down at his hands. “Neither am I.”

“It ended pretty quickly, though,” she said.

He arched a brow, looking over at her. “What did?”

“Our date,” she specified.

He chuckled. “Is it over already? I didn’t even get to make my first date moves yet.”

Aelin threw her head back as she laughed. “Rowan Whitethorn has moves?”

“Oh, definitely,” he grinned, and Aelin found herself doing the same. “I was going to go for the old yawn, arm around the shoulder trick, but you seemed pretty into the movie.”

“You know, no one has ever done that to me,” she said, chuckling. “I’m kind of upset that you didn’t.”

“Now I know for next time,” he said, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the autumn night sky.

“Next time?” Aelin asked, laughing softly. “Are you already asking me on a second date, Rowan?”

“Of course not, the first one isn’t even over yet,” Rowan chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll do something to make you rethink your presence here before the night is over with.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Aelin grinned.

Rowan lifted a humored brow. “Challenge accepted.”

He did everything but, though. He was a gentleman, charming, and made her laugh more times than she could count. They talked for hours, unable to stop, enjoying each other’s company too much to leave. By the time the parking lot of the old movie theater had cleared from its last showing, Aelin and Rowan were still sitting side by side on his truck bed, their knees resting against one another’s.

“We should probably get going,” he said, begrudgingly, looking at his watch. “My 8:00 am biochem class will be here too early.”

Aelin laughed and the sound was like the sweetest melody. “That’s why you don’t take early classes. My earliest class is at 11:00.”

“Rub it in,” Rowan muttered, but when she looked at him, he was smiling. 

“Alright,” Aelin laughed, hopping off his truck. “Well, I had fun tonight.”

“Me too,” Rowan said, following her lead and closing his hatch. “So how about that second date?” 

Aelin’s head fell to the side. “So you can try out all those moves?” 

Rowan’s laugh sent chills down her spine. “Maybe. A friend of mine is having a Halloween party Saturday night… I know it’s short notice, but…if you don’t have plans…”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed as she watched him sweat. Then, she said, “Pick me up at seven?” 

Rowan’s shoulders relaxed as he said, “I’ll be there.”

“Good,” Aelin whispered, and reached up on her toes to kiss him quickly on the cheek.

She was walking away, toward her car, before he could even come up with a way to respond. But when Aelin looked over her shoulder, he was standing in that same spot, watching her, with the most handsome, bewildered look on his face. 

It was going to be a fun Halloween. 

[prose-for-hire]

Supernatural Activity

Pairing: Rupert Giles x reader

Request: omgggg „dont mess with the cat“ and its the baby monitor“ and giles, maybe? that would be amaaazing

Requested by: Anon

Warning: swearing. 

c/n = cat’s name lol. I didn’t wanna assign a name you can do that! The cat is a boy though (sorry idk why I can change it if u want) 🖤🦇

You and Giles had moved in together. You had taken a while to find the perfect place, especially considering that you lived on top of a Hellmouth. A lot of properties were ridiculously good value because a surprising amount of suspicious deaths happened here. You had offered to move into the house he already lived in, but he insisted that you should have a house you could share that would be yours together.

You finally found one that was perfect, or what you had thought was perfect. 

You had been relaxing one Autumn evening, in front of the fire that Giles had just got going. Your cat was relaxing on your lap as Giles slid into the seat beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You closed your eyes, inhaling his familiar scent that enveloped you with his hug. 

You cosied up in front of the fire, wrapping your arms around his torso. You had more chance to relax around this time of year, Halloween was usually quiet and the younger people you usually helped out were busy going to parties and struggling with their social lives over the supernatural at the moment.

Giles had kissed the top of your head from the position you were in, now resting against his chest. You had been watching the television, or relaxing together with the tv on in the background. Except suddenly you heard this horrible noise. This crackling and popping. It was feedback. From some kind of device. A baby crying. Wailing for someone. 

You squinted around, starting to get freaked out. Something wasn;t right. The room felt cold, despite your body curled up beside Giles with the roaring fire. You looked up at him and he didn’t appear phased. You sat up properly, looking around. Squinting.

“Giles…” You say slowly. Giles had stayed in the same position, looking towards the television feigning boredom but he appeared to be into whatever it was taht was on. You had to take the remote and mute the sound, “Giles can you hear that?”

“Oh, it’s just the baby monitor” Giles muttered after listening a moment, cleaning his glasses and smiling at you as if this were the natural conclusion. You squinted at him, looking around in confusion.

“Giles… we don’t have a baby” You say slowly. This made him jump into action. Of course - you didn’t have a baby! He panicked, walking towards the noise.

You, against your better judgement, went with Giles to look around the house to check where the noise was coming from. C/n weaved between both of your legs, coming too. But he stopped on the landing, hissing and running off in the opposite direction.

It got louder as you walked towards the spare room. You tensed, taking Giles’ sleeve and tugging him back. You were scared, you didn’t want him to get hurt. He nodded reassuringly, sliding his hand into yours and clasping it tight. The door opened slowly, it revealed... nothing.

There was no movement. No noise and definitely no baby.

You exchanged a look, silently agreeing to just leave that room alone from then on. You didn’t speak much for the rest of the evening, still hyperaware of any noises in the house. You went to sleep earlier than usual, clinging to Giles as you tried in vain to get some sleep.

You had managed some brief sleep, however you had a bad feeling which woke you up. Then came a strangled noise and a crash. You ran out of bed, with Giles close behind, in time to see your cat starting to float in mid-air while it thrashed against whatever it was. His tail was bushy and standing on end with his sharp teeth exposed whilst he hissed at the invisible force.

You reached and scooped your cat and pulled him into you, scowling around at the room.

“I’m fucking warning you!” You point at the ceiling as if the spirit were floating there, “Don’t mess with the cat!” You shouted, hugging the little fluff ball closer to your chest to make sure you were protecting him. You had seen movies like this - the pet was usually the first to go. Not on your watch.

“Y/n is it really necessary to use that language?”

“Oh I’m sorry did you want me to invite the poltergeist into the kitchen for a cup of tea!?”

“No, of course not. It just isn’t wise to… rile it up” He said gently, knowing how protective you were of the cat. You had expressed more than once that it felt like a little family, with you, the cat and Giles. Which he had adored when you had revealed this to him. He really did love you. He nodded once in understanding, pressing a kiss against the side of your head. You softened, melting into it a little, before snapping your eyes back open and shouting, “It’s Halloween tomorrow aren’t you meant to have the day off?!” scowling up at the ceiling again.

The movement seemed to disappear. So you eventually padded back to your shared bed, setting your cat at the end of the bed to ensure he was safe. You both slipped back into bed and huddled together as you tried to get some sleep. Your anger dissipating with every soft touch Giles gave you in the safety of your shared bed. 

“We have to do something, sweetheart” You sigh, cuddling up to him. You weren’t fond of being haunted, it appeared.

“Let’s just, see what the spirit wants and see if we can, ah, assist. I will look up some books tomorrow” He muttered, stroking the back of your head softly. You nodded, well aware of his tendency to say a more polite version of what he really wanted to say.

“Can I bring c/n? please?” You whispered into his ear as you began to fall asleep nestled against his side.

The next morning was Halloween, a very busy day for you and Giles in the store you owned together. You usually enjoyed the day, but you were tired this morning and you snapped at Xander too many times so he threatened to walk.

This lead to you having to buy donuts to keep him sweet, which appeared to make him instantly your friend again. You explained yours and Giles’ predicament between the rush of customers and heard their suggestions which, although well-meaning, were entirely unhelpful. Your cat weaved between each customer, giving them a little entertainment whilst they waited in the long queues.

“Maybe you should get a priest?” Willow asked, using what appeared to be an entire roll of tape on a customers gift wrap. You were too busy reading a book on possession to supervise her properly so Anya snatched it from her and started to wrap it correctly.

“Yeah, you wanna go full-Exorcist. It is Halloween, G-man” Xander piped up and you let it slide with a mere eyeroll, seeing as you had snapped at him so much already today and Giles let him off with just a withering look.

You and Giles did a little more researching and decided the best way forwards was a ritual to reveal who you were dealing with and then one to cast out the spirit. You had everything lined up and you even colour coded the ritual into sections for him - you knew he loved it when you did that. 

You decided you should probably do it as soon as possible. You presented your plan to the group after you finally closed up and the tired Scoobies listened. Their faces twisting into panic as they realised it sounded like a group event.

“Do we, uh, all have to be there?” Buffy asked, looking around and trying to silently come up with an excuse with the others. You caught this and winked at her.

“Well, we could use all of the help that we can get” Giles said solemnly, well aware of the horrified faces of the young people around him. He was about to launch into a long speech about duty.

“No. You can go to your Halloween party! Giles, there are some things that have to be dealt with alone, it’s our responsibility. We can do it just fine” You looped your arms around his neck and left a few soft kisses against his slightly parted mouth, in case he was still trying to protest. The Scoobies all took this as their cue to get up and run out of the door before Giles could change his mind. Dawn had taken your cat in the carrier, so that he was safe while you spent your Halloween dealing with whatever it was that had moved into your house (or maybe you had moved into its house?).

You made it home, wincing slightly as you saw the state of your kitchen. All of the cupboards were open. Cutlery was littering the floor. All of them had been paired with another, forming upside down crosses all over the floor. You smelt something and your eyes widened in horror. The gas was on. You ran over to turn  it off and when you looked back around you saw that the teapot was cracked and in pieces in the centre of the wooden dining table. Clearly, the ghost wasn’t a fan of tea. Maybe it was a good job you didn’t offer it any.

You both cleared up, Giles staying quiet as you ranted through the tidying. You slammed the cutlery back in place. Crashing the cupboard doors closed. The teapot which you had really liked had to go straight into the bin.

When you finally finished, collapsing into the chairs in your living room. You felt exhausted. You weren’t sure if you had the energy to do this. You held onto the cross that Buffy had kindly gifted you and Giles earlier in the day.

A loud smash echoed through the house, making Giles jump and scatter your handwritten notes on the rituals you would have to perform all over the

You both rushed to pick them up before any poltergeist saw them and started to attack you before you could begin your plan. You then ran in to see what had happened, the noise having come from the kitchen. But this time, nothing was out of place. In fact, it was eerily clean. Spotless. 

You decided you did have the energy. You wanted this entity gone. You couldn’t even relax in your home for a second anymore. This was further evident when you heard a loud scoff and a thud.

You rushed in, expecting to see Giles wrestling with a ghost, but instead you saw him glaring at the book case in the living room.

“For the love of all that is- will you please cease with the ridiculous organisation of my bookshelves! I cannot find a bloody thing!” He shouted at mid-air. It had been the one thing through all of this that had gotten a reaction.

“Now, now is that language really necessary, sweetie?” You giggle as he turned to face you, his temper still frayed.

“I cannot stand to live beside this-this-!” He looked around, as if he could have seen if the poltergeist was listening in, but obviously wasn’t able to see anything, “The books, y/n! the books!” He started to get worked up until your hand slid lightly up his chest, rubbing soothingly.

“I know, that’s why we’re doing a- doing what we’re doing- on Halloween night” You hinted, not wanting the entity to know what you planned. You kissed him on the cheek and nestled into him, hoping he could feel your love and comfort coursing through him like blood. He appeared to calm as he held you to him, but he was still frowning around him and towards the bookcase.

It was finally time. It was almost midnight and you started to paint the pentagram on one of the small, circular hardwood tables as Giles shook his head and muttered under his breath. He had given his blessing to use one of the tables he had brought with him into your home from England, but it didn’t mean he was pleased about it. You both set up, places crystals on each point of the pentagram. You also lit candles and brushing up pronunciation of Latin phrases before you began. 

You nodded at each other, he closed the space between you to press a chaste kiss against your lips. For luck. Or courage. You both held hands and started reciting the words. Asking the spirit to reveal itself. Asking for its purpose. Things started to shake, books started to fly out of the shelves and litter the floor. Giles had to do everything in his power to stay focused. 

The crystals flew at you both, scattering on the floor at your feet. You knew what this meant. It wanted you. It wanted to inhabit one of you. Possess you.

Giles didn’t even pause. He couldn’t have anything jeopardising his home. His love. He never wanted to be apart from you and so he started shouted that the spirit was being cast out. Cast from this home and back to where it came from. Nothing was happening except you were angering the demon. It had started to shriek. Blood curdling, squawks of terror that made you shiver.

The table was starting to shake, threatening to be thrown across the room and you panicked. Giles started to chant louder and you saw something from the corner of your eye. Giles was trying to contain the spirit within the confines of the pentagram at least - trying to cease the destruction of your shared home. A home that had held so much love and warmth being destroyed into nothing made him mad. He had memories in every room, he had told you of his love for you on the sofa that was now almost ripped in two.

You had seen a doll. You had picked it up from a fair, or a flea market. It was hideous. You don’t even remember why you bought it, it was oversized and had a blank stare that meant you had hidden it in a cupboard so you didn’t have to look at it. That now had been flung open with the contents littering the floor.

You panicked, having to move from the circle to grab the doll before placing it hurriedly into the centre of the pentagram. Giles said the final syllable and it happened. Everything suddenly went quiet. The room dull and empty. Littered with you entire lives surrounding you.

You had made it so the spirit passed into there. The doll. You winced as the doll started to shake and a horrible light filled the room. It was so bright it felt as if it was behind your eyes, inside your skull. A terrible scream felt as if it were exploding your eardrums before a cold silence fell again.

It was instinct. It had been dangerous, but you both agreed there would have been no other way. You stared around you at the mess and decided you needed to worry about the doll first.

You took the doll straight to the Magic Box and locked it up until you knew what to do with it.

You held hands as you stepped back over the threshold of your shared home, peering around corners and holding your breath before entering rooms. But it was okay. It was all back to normal. 

Nothing was out of place. It was as if the activity had been something you had made up. Something of a shared dream. But you knew that wasn’t the case, and thought better than ever mentioning it out loud.

You turned and almost knocked Giles over in your haste to celebrate with the biggest hug. He quickly recovered and held you close. It was over, you both sighed as the first rays of the sunrise peaked from behind your blinds. Everything was going to be okay.

The details of this story were based on true events.

Y/n and Giles went on to save the world several times since the events of this fic. They assisted the Slayer at the final battle of Sunnydale and both survived.

The doll was sent to the care of Wolfram & Hart. The whereabouts of the doll is currently unknown.

[radiosandrecordings]

So @pitviperofdoom wrote a beautiful piece I have not stopped thinking about a while ago with QPPs Jon and Gerry that you should go and read here. They kindly allowed to let me go off on a tangent inspired by it, so here’s a conversation from the night before that fic where I just get emotional over these two and let myself indulge in their dynamic. 

Background GerryOliver and JonMartin. Warnings for alcohol consumption and general drunkenness. 

“Who’re you gonna bring, eh?” 

It was rounding on eleven o’clock, and they were both sprawled about the room, letting the dull buzz of alcohol set in. Jon was slumped on the couch, and Gerry had, at some point, collapsed into the IKEA chair with the weird curved bar holding it up that Jon had never quite trusted the stability of. He’d kicked off his boots after they’d finished eating, his socked feet now resting on the coffee table, nestled between discarded takeaway boxes and bottles of drink. The scotch still stood there uncapped, and minus three glasses. Jon had taken one when Gerry had poured it for him, and Gerry a second after that, while Jon switched to some dark, fruity cider Gerry had found for him at the back of the fridge.

Jon jolted slightly. “What?” He was on his second bottle and the only thing stopping him from nodding off then and there was the fact that suddenly, the fridge was humming incredibly loudly and it was a great distraction. That’s what he gets for getting hammered on a friday straight from work. Was he hammered? A bottle and a half of cider and one glass of scotch didn’t seem like enough to do that but the way that persistent buzzing was pounding at his skull suggested maybe that was enough for the evening. 

“Well you get a plus one. Two, if you want, best man privileges and all that.” 

Jon’s mouth was dry. He should really get some water. But also, he didn’t really like the thought of having to stand up. “I… Don’t know. I usually bring you.” He pulled a face. “I’m not sure I know anyone that you wouldn’t be inviting anyway.” 

“No one from team spooky you’d want to bring to cry on after you walk me down the isle?” 

Gerry let out an overdramatic ‘Oof’ as Jon half heartedly attempted to reach over and slap him on the leg. “Stop! Calling us! That!” 

“I’ll stop calling you it when the shoe stops fitting. You’re a spooky little team that investigates spooky spooky things. You’re gonna have to accept that one day.” 

“Says the man in the process of opening an exclusively horror-based bookshop with his- Well I suppose he’s going to be your husband now. Huh. God, I feel old.” 

“I will not hear the good name of ‘Spine Chilling’ slandered in my household Jonathan! And- Well fuck, yeah, you’ve got a point there don’t you. Shit, when did I become ‘Bookshop Husband #2’. We used to be cool. Now we pay taxes and shit. Ripe old age of thirty.” 

Jon laughed, and it only hurt his head a little bit. Small mercies. “I would argue you’re still rather cool. In my books at least.” He paused for a moment, letting the air settle into a more sombre tone. “Do you… Do you regret any of it?”

“Not for a second,” Gerry said, running his fingers along the ring that rested on his left hand. He shifted in his seat, and began to tug his hair out of the plait that had been draped over one shoulder. “You never answered the question though. What’ll it be, are we going to have to drunk find you a date? I’m sure there’s an app for fake wedding dates now. Bloody app for everything.” 

“Do I need one?” Jon replied, and it came out dangerously close to a whine. 

“Well no, but I can’t pay attention to you all day because apparently I’ll have a husband to stare in wonder at or some shit, and Georgie might snap if you spend more than an hour crying on her. And don’t give me that look, you’ll cry! You always say you won’t but you teared up earlier when I told you so I am doing my duty and trying to get you a cuddle buddy.” 

“That’s-” Jon started, sounding almost tetchy, before deflating slightly. With Gerry, at least, he knew when to admit defeat. “Okay, so you might have a point… Has Oliver picked anyone out already?” 

“You won’t like it.” 

“Oh, christ.” 

“Yup. Well what did you expect? Jane is his best friend, I’m sorry I know you don’t get on but I can’t exactly tell him no, you can tolerate each other for a day!”

“Worms! All over my archive! How she got them past Rosie still boggles the mind, and really-” 

Gerry waved a hand as he tried to cut him off, “Okay, okay, yes I’ve heard the story more than once, I get it, I won’t even put you at the same table. If it makes it better I’ll see what whatever venue we choose’s policy on animals is. Admiral seems like he’d make a good emotional support cat. Get him a little tux or something.” 

“As much as I like the idea, I’m not quite sure he’d appreciate it. Unless you’re getting wed in somewhere with copious amounts of radiators, I think he’d be better off at home.” 

“You don’t know!” Gerry said, pointing wildly, some of his energy seeming to kick back in after managing to maintain a conscious conversation, “Could be getting hitched in a radiator factory. That’d be something.” 

And Jon was glad Gerry was starting to feel more lively, but by the way laughter made his head pound he certainly was not. He smiled through the grimace. “Maybe so.” He had apparently, in a stroke of genius earlier, left himself a glass of water on the table. He’d take that about now, thanks. 

“What about Martin?” 

And now there was water spilled down his front. Great. “I’m sorry?” He sputtered. 

“Don’t apologise, it’ll dry.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jon growled, setting the water back down. 

Gerry gave him a faux sweet smile. There was a lapse in the conversation while Jon tugged his jumper off and tossed it onto the sofa next to him. Once he was done wrestling with the wool, Gerry spoke up again. “Seriously though, what about him? I haven’t seen you act like that with anyone since Georgie.” 

“I act like that with you!” Jon cried.

“Yes, but I’m special,” Gerry said, pressing his fingers to his lips and blowing a kiss across the room. “And also, you did just admit you act a specific way with him, so. Check and mate.” 

“I hate drunk Jon,” he muttered. “Okay, so, we go out for lunch sometimes, and that means I have more anecdotes to tell about him than Tim or Sasha, so I end up talking about him more. And I notice more things about him, like how he has more freckles in the summer than the rest of the year, but that’s just because he spends more time in my office because he seems determined to win the record for most tea made in a workplace environment in a year. So what?” 

Gerry looked intolerably smug. “Oh, no, you keep going with your list there, really proving your point.” 

Jon groaned. “Shut up.” 

“Okay, I will, I will, I just.. You do clearly like him Jon. And I won’t pressure you into anything, obviously, but just give yourself a chance, huh? You’re discarding the thought out of hand.”

Jon made a ‘humph’ of petulance. “Right. Fine. Okay. When’s the wedding?” 

“Will you refuse to come if I say Halloween?” 

“I will get around to mocking it later, but no. That’s what…” And admittedly, the alcohol was enough that he had to count on his fingers for this one, “Nine? Nine months away?” 

“You got it in the end.” 

“Once again, Mr Delano-Banks, shut your mouth-”

“Hey-”

“I will update you in eight months time. Until then you are not to bring it up. Deal?” 

Gerry stuck out a bottom lip, “Not sure I was expecting that to be how I heard that name for the first time, but wow, okay. And yes, that’s a deal.” 

“Good. Now if you excuse me, I am promptly about to pass out on your sofa.” 

Gerry got up and stretched, the sound of his knuckles popping making Jon cringe. He glanced up at the clock, before moving the offending jumper away and letting himself drop down on the sofa next to Jon. “Not even midnight yet. What’d I say. Old men, the both of us.” 

“Shush. Pillows can’t talk,” Jon muttered, gently manoeuvring his partner so they were both lying horizontal on the sofa, before burying his face in Gerry’s shoulder. 

“G’night” he muttered into the sofa fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Thanks,” Gerry said, pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s hair. “I am too.”

[spencerreidshortstories]

Pumpkins and Halloween

Description: Spencer wants to go to a pumpkin patch and asks her to go with him.  She’s not a big fan of holidays and Spencer sets his mind on changing that.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None at all.  This is cute.

Spencer had picked a tentative date to go to the pumpkin patch so he could pick up a few pumpkins, smaller ones for his apartment, but had asked her to go with him since it was going to during a weekend. He knew and she knew that the day could change because he never knew when they would be invited to get involved in a case away from home.

She'd told him she didn't mind going, but she wasn't much of a holiday person.

"What?" he exclaimed. "How are you not a holiday person?"

"Eh, my family was never big on celebrating anything, so it kind of rubbed off on me."

"Well . . . I am going to change that. I love Halloween!"

He basically went on a tangent about things they could do. He knew he didn't have much time because they were talking during her lunch break, but he hoped he could get her interested.

"To get you in the spirit, we can pick a pumpkin or two to carve and put on your porch," he said. "Um . . . are you a fan of horror movies?"

"Sure, as long as they're not gross. I don't like gore. I'm more a creature-feature girl."

"I can work with that. Uh, we can go to the park and pick the best leaves, and we'll need decorations."

"For what?"

"Your house! I mean, if you want to . . . it's something we could do together."

"Okay. It could be fun."

"It will be fun," he declared. "You've never been around me during October."

"No, I have not."

He could hear the smile in her voice and he smiled back even though she couldn't see it.

That conversation on the phone was how he ended up having one of the best days he'd had in a long time, though he always had a good day when he was with her.

It started out with her meeting him at his apartment and actually driving to their usual coffee spot. They had a small breakfast there as well, which probably shouldn't have counted as breakfast because it was only a very sweet doughnut for each of them.

They reached the pumpkin patch around noon and even though they needed a few bigger pumpkins to carve, she seemed drawn to the smaller ones.

"We can still decorate those. Just use a permanent marker or something," he said.

"They're cute," she said.

They spent an hour-and-a-half at the patch. Spencer didn't mind because she kept pointing out the different colored gourds. She even added one or two of them to the ones she wanted to buy.

"Did you know that the practice of turning pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns originated in Ireland? They used turnips and potatoes instead of pumpkins, but they brought the tradition to America when they immigrated here."

"I actually did not know that," she said, giving him her attention.

Even though she had never cut him off when he decided to talk about the things he knew, it still sometimes surprised him. Even his team usually stopped his rambling – most of the time because he needed to focus on a case, but still . . . they didn't want to hear him ramble on about things they were in no way interested in.

He talked about pumpkins some more and then moved onto Halloween and the origins of that, which she knew some of already. The conversation stopped when they had to pay for their pumpkins.

She was surprised when he took out his wallet to pay for hers as well as his.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"I know. I want to." Then because he was suddenly unsure, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I just . . . I wasn't expecting it."

Spencer wasn't a materialistic person at all, but the fact that she wasn't used to people buying her things kind of made him want to buy her things.

When they got back to her car with their purchases they placed them in the backseat and headed back to her house to drop them off and so they could have an actual meal that didn't consist of only sugar. It was during lunch that Spencer brought up something that he'd been thinking about for a while now.

"You know, we've spent a lot of time together, but we've never really gone out for dinner or anything."

He spoke carefully, wanting to get a feel for what she thought about it, before pursuing it further.

"No, I guess we haven't. Unless you count dinner at Rossi's as, um . . . us going out."

"Do you?"

She looked away for a little bit before bringing her gaze back to him. "Kind of yes, and kind of no. I mean, it was a big milestone because I know you wanted to keep me separate from your workplace. You never really said, but I could tell. But it was also not just us that night, so that wasn't really a date. I've kind of been waiting for you to ask, but I've also kind of been considering our TV show nights as sort of dates. So basically what I'm saying is that I've considered you my sort-of-boyfriend for a few months now, which basically just means that I haven't even thought of looking for anyone else during that time."

Spencer's eyebrows began to rise. He hadn't read that into their TV show nights at all. It was mostly just her coming over and them switching on who paid for dinner that night. They would eat and watch the show and he would explain something if she didn't understand.

"But you've been waiting for me to ask you out on an actual date."

"Yes. I hope I didn't freak you out by saying that. And also, since you brought it up . . . I'm going to say yes if that helps you out at all."

Spencer grinned. "It does take the edge off a bit."

"Maybe we could go out for your birthday, if you're here. Garcia told me when you were born, so don't think you can get away without me at least taking you out to dinner. Or I could make you dinner and we can do something here."

"That sounds nice," he said.

Later, when they were carving the pumpkins, he suddenly realized something she'd said earlier.

"Hey, does this mean I can consider you my girlfriend even though we haven't actually gone on a real date?"

"Well, I would be offended if you didn't," she said, throwing a still wet pumpkin seed at him.

"Hey!"

He threw one back at her, but they did not let themselves start a full-on pumpkin guts fight at the kitchen table.

"Are you having fun?" he asked seriously.

"I am. The fact that you're having fun is helping me have fun."

"I'm glad. We should make a scarecrow next time we get to hang out."

"That could also be fun."

As they continued talking, they decided the next time they were able to get a night to themselves they would have their movie night and she seemed more enthused to decorate her house now. He wasn't sure if it was because she was coming to appreciate how fun it could be or if it was because it meant they got to do it together.

Maybe it was both.

[matildaofoz]

The Invisible Itch Pt. 2 (Demon!Michael x Reader)

Summary: Michael introduces himself after last night and you find yourself on the short end of the proverbial stick by your own doing, no less. Demons don't play nice and Michael puts you firmly into place.

A/N: This is a little interlude to the next part of this series, no smut just yet I'm afraid but plenty of dominant Demon!Michael. He's so much fun to write and the back-and-forth between him and the reader are some of my favourites.

Warnings: Cursing, Power-Play, minor violence and hurt (reader-receiving), mentions of smut

Word Count: 2.4k

Tag List: @prophecy-is-inevitable​ @jimmlangdon​ @drasangel​ @leatherduncan​ @sexwon131​ @rocketgirl2410​ @9layerdevilfoodcake​ @vulgarprayer​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @michaellandgons-sunshine​ @iwillboilyourteeth​ @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul​, @kitty4860​

After you'd awoken the night after an encounter you couldn't begin to make sense of, you had quite literally grabbed whatever your hands could reach out the wardrobe and sprinted out the door, not daring to even enter the bathroom. You felt whatever, whoever had introduced himself the night before lingering in the place you called your home and that knot in your stomach wound tighter as the day went on. You were going insane. Surely,  for the truth of the matter meant that there were forces in this world - and apparently in your apartment  - that you couldn't fathom.

You needed answers and so you began to scour the Internet, not caring if your work search history took a weird turn. You still felt his fingers between your legs, his teeth on your shoulder and his grip on your hip. God, the way he had pleasured you was unlike anything you'd ever felt. You tried to shake the lustful thoughts flitting through your mind, the image of him standing before you burned into your retinas.

Demon. That word kept popping up on the websites and subreddits you found and you swore you felt those strong hands on you again as you read page after page of first person accounts with the supernatural. The more you read, the more you became alarmed, mentions of people having unwittingly sold their soul to the devil himself despite not believing in these kinds of things. If this was any other time, you would have scoffed at the idiotic posts. And yet here you were, baring the bruises of something you couldn't explain. The work day drew to a close far too soon, the day feeling like you spent it in a daze, a thick fog hanging over your mind, visions of him clouding your senses. Maybe you had sold your soul, given it to that man, that demon. That would explain the haze you walked through,  that ache between your legs.

"Hey (Y/N), you alright? Anything going on, you didn't seem right today," Cindy from accounting said as you both stepped into the elevator.  

"Hm? Oh yeah sorry, I'm just tired I think ," you replied with a little embarrassed smile several seconds after she had turned to address you as the doors slid shut. She mustered you, taking in the slight dark circles under your eyes, apparent because you hadn't even bothered to put on any make up. You forced a smile, not feeling up to any small talk.

"Heard Kevin's been bragging about you two going down to his lake house this weekend. Please tell me that's not true, " she continued and you were glad she didn't mention your appreance.

"He did what?!" you shrieked, now suddenly rattled into the present by her statement.

"Thought as much," Cindy replied, a small chuckle on her lips. You two didn't get to speak often but she was one of the few people in the office who showed her disdain for your manager and his creepy ways openly.

"This is turning out to be an even worse day than it already is," you groaned, making Cindy snicker beside you.

"Just be careful, I know he's all bark and no bite but you wouldn't want to get yourself in any situation," she said, patting you lightly on the shoulder as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the underground parking lot.

"Yeah, definitely won't do that. Thanks for the heads up," you called after her as she stepped out to head to her car, waving at you without turning around. You liked Cindy and her no-nonsense attitude. Too bad you were already in a situation of the supernatural kind. You'd kick Kevin's balls any day if he tried anything. The demon in your flat however was an entirely different beast to tame. If that was even a possibility.

You sat in your car outside your apartment building for a good 10 minutes, looking up at the dark windows, debating on whether or not you wanted to spend the night  there. What had gotten into you, a tiny voice in the back of your mind berated you. You weren't scared of horror movies or graveyards, you laughed your way though haunted houses you and your friends went to on Halloween and yet the thought of stepping foot into your safe space suddenly filled you with dread. You could explain all those things away by good editing, special effects and makeup. A real-life demon on the other hand...With a huff you swung open the car door and stepped out into the chilly movember air and headed for the entrance. As you passed under the streetlights,  you swore you could feel those eyes of his on you, watching from above.

The lock clicked, unlatching the door. You entered, expecting to come face to face with him and yet you were greeted by silence. You ventured into the kitchen, switching on the lights, back rigged. Empty. Next you headed for the bathroom. It looked as if you'd never even took a bath last night, no wine bottle, no glass on the floor, no water puddles on the ground. Slowly but surely you were beginning to think that you'd had a very vivid dream, one that would definetely warranted a visit to your pyschologist, and somehow managed to bump your hip and scratch your shoulder. It made no sense. You knew you were being watched as you stepped out the car. God, maybe you were finally at your breaking point,  brought around by nothing in particular, you just simply snapped.

You ventured into your bedroom to change out of your clothes. The note...was gone. You swore you'd left in laying on your covers. After several minutes of franticall searching under the covers and around the bed, you gave up. Maybe your breakup was fianlly catching up with you in an unusual way or maybe it was the loneliness. Whatever it was, all that remained of last night were the bruises. You changed into an oversized t-shirt and some cotton shorts, examining the blueish imprints on your hips. Perhaps you had gotten so drunk last night that you'd simply not remembered hitting your hip and this morning, still drunk your brain had conjured up the note just as it has the demon that fucked you raw in the bathtub last night.

Having let your guard down at finding nothing out of the ordinary, you padded into the living room, your phone in hand that was currently reinstalling tinder. Might as well get back in the game if I'm dreaming up hot demon bathtub sex, you thought to yourself.

You switched on the light, revealing the demon from last night perched lazily on the sofa,  looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" you screamed, dropping your phone. So much for not being scared.

"Good evening to you too, (Y/N)" he chuckled, taking in your frightened expression, those pretty (Y/E/C) eyes of yours ripped wide open.

"What are YOU doing here?" you hissed, trying to calm your heart that was currently in overdrive. He wasn't real, he wasn't supposed to be real.

"What do you mean what am I doing here. Didn't we assess last night that this is my domain? I should be asking you that question, Angel," he retorted, that grin of his widening into a dashing smile, his awsner punctuated by a wink that shouldn't have the effect it had on you.

"S-so this, last night, this was all real?" you whispered with your hands gesturing around you, disbelief in your voice and realisation flitting over your face.

"Oh it was real. A demon fucking that sweet little cunt of yours. Very real and very enjoyable I might add," he rumbled, hia brazen words making your cheeks flush. You stood in the door flabbergasted.

"I'm Michael by the way. I didn't get to introduce myself properly last night since you passed out. Not to worry,  I take it as a compliment of my expertise," he winked once more.

You watched him as he revealed why you couldn't remember getting out the tub or falling asleep. So he was a demon. A spawn of satan. Your mind went back to all the things you'd read earlier about his kind, that knot in your stomach suddenly coiling in on itself.

"Did I sell my soul to you last night?!" The words spilled over your lips, your (Y/E/C) gaze shooting daggers at the demon who looked more bemused by the second, taking in your flustered appearance. He hadn't expected you to be so straightforward.

"No, you'd know if you did," he smirked, tapping his chin, a cocky smile on his lips as he watched you deflate slightly. You didn't dare breathe a sigh of relief yet.

"This is like if you're a cop, you have to tell me. You can't lie, you can twist the truth but you can't outright lie," you responded, not satisfied by his half answer.

"Oh, we've been hitting the books at work today? Smart girl," he chuckled. You hadn't done nearly enough research to know the pile of proverbial shit you had landed in unknowingly, but you had done enough between work meetings and over your lunch break to know that a demon was bound by whatever force held them to this plane that made it impossible for them to lie if called upon directly. Your hands clenched by your sides, waiting for his reply. He groaned at your resoluteness. You were a lot smarter than you knew and he was growing impatient with the incessant line of questioning. Usually it was him with one hand on the lever.

"Sweet (Y/N)," he inhaled deeply. "You didn't sell your soul to me last night. It's still firmly sat behind your ribcage, all yours. I'd swear on my heart if I had one. I do have integrity, you know. Are you satisfied now?" He sneered, watching your face as he waited for your reply, one eyebrow cocked expectantly, a hint of offense on his features. You sighed in relief at his statement.

"Thank God," you breathed. At least some of what you'd found on various internet sites and reddit threads seemed to be true. At the name, Michael's eyes darkened and he stood up to his full height from the sofa. Your spine straightened as he approached you, his demeanour growing even sourer.

"Don't mention him in my presence," he rumbled, coming to stand before you, the tips of his pristine parent leather boots touching your bare toes. Had he approached you like this when you had entered your apartment, you would've shrunk back but your little research endeavours had struck a hint of Gold, a fact that had emboldened you as much as his admission that he infact a demon. You wanted to try and see what else you could use against him. Resolute, you stood your ground, neck slightly tilted back to meet his gaze. He may have scared you just now but you were not one to back down, for better or worse.

"God," you uttered again, watching his eyes grow dark, an inky blackness swallowing his blue irises.

Michael tilted his head to one side, those shadows starting to creep up behind him like they had last night. A silent warning.

"Jesus Christ," you continued to test him.

"(Y/N)..." his voice rumbled low out his chest, and the depth of it sent shivers down your spine.

"In the name of the father, the son and the hol-" His right arm shot up and he grabbed you by the throat roughly, cutting off your breath before you could finish the sentence. In the blink of an eye you were pressed between the wall, Michael's hand around your throat pinning you in place.

"Shut your fucking mouth or I'll do it for you," he hissed, his body pressed firmly over yours, his black gaze burning into you, and a searing pain exploded behind them. You screamed in terror and anguish as it felt like he was burning your eyes out their sockets.

"FUCK, I'M SORRY, I'LL STOP, PLEASE!" you cried, your vision going blurry from pain and tears that had begun to spill out the corners. At your cries, Michael's hand loosened the grip around your neck and stepped back. You slid down the wall at the loss of his body holding you up, gulping in air, fingers gingerly touching the skin around your eyes, afraid they would come up bloody. Unbothered, Michael watched as you regained control over your breathing, mustering you with a hint of disdain. He crouched down before you, making you press yourself against the wall in an effort to keep the distance between you.

"Don't ever think you're smarter than me, little one. Test me again and you'll see. I dare you," he chuckled, one hand catching your quivering chin in his hold to assess the damage he'd done. Only several small burst blood vessels bloomed in the whites of your eyes. Nothing permanent and yet enough to remind you that you were in his domain, abiding by his rules.

"Now that we've established who's in charge once again, why dont you tell me about your day? I took the liberty of getting some wine," he said, any trace of anger or demonic demeanour wiped from his chiseled features, that small smile playing on the corners of his lips again. He was psychotic or just simply demonic, that little voice in th back of your head whispered while you watched him, the back of your head and shoulders pressed into the wall.

He offered you his hand to help you off the floor, as if the last minutes had never taken place. You debated whether or not to refuse but seeing as how you were on the much shorter end of the stick firmly in his grasp, you took his hand and were hoisted up to your feet by Michael. You recoiled from his grasp as soon as you were steady on your feet,  eyeing him warily. Alcohol sounded like a good idea even though you wanted to keep your wits about you around him. There was no doubt in your mind now about who it was you were dealing with and this was far worse than you'd anticipated and yet it didn't seem like you had much choice. Your lease wouldn't run out for another 6 months and there was no way you'd go back to your best friend's couch.

“Why the hell not,” you muttered, earning yourself a gleeful grin from the handsome devil before you.

“I knew you'd come around, Angel,” he grinned, those hooded icy blue eyes glinting.

[harringrovetrashrat]

Pretty Boy

“This is so boring.” Heather popped her gum, smacking slightly, and blew a curl out of her eye. She and Billy were in her dorm, studying together. Her roommate Robin was lounging in her loft, ignoring them, but it was a comfortable thing. Billy sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Switch it up then. Stop with Stats and work on Bio or something,” he suggested. He turned the page in his Art History book, trying to focus.

“No, I mean,” she scoffed, “I mean, like, studying is boring. We should take a break.”

“I’m not taking shots Heather--”

“I’m just saying--”

“I actually need to finish this--”

“Well, I need to do something else--”

“Oh my god,” Robin groaned, leaning over the side of the bed. “Whatever you guys do, would you be quiet about it?” Billy stuck his tongue out and she rolled her eyes before turning back towards the ceiling. Heather eyed her, tongue swiping over her bottom lip unconsciously, and Billy smiled slightly. She was so obvious.

“Hey,” he suggested slyly, “Didn’t you say you had a new lipstick you wanted to show me? Said it screamed Fuck Me?” He ignored the slightly choked sound that came from Robin’s loft and instead focused on Heather’s rapidly flushing face. She gave him a look that said I know what you’re doing, but stood and went to her dresser anyway.

“It’s this gorgeous red, and I also have a gloss I thought would look good with it, but I wanted your opinion.” She pulled out a tube and Billy tossed his textbook to the side, leaning back slightly. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw that Robin had turned so she was facing the room and not the wall. He smirked to himself. Lesbians were so oblivious to each other, it was almost infuriating. Almost. “Alright,” Heather said, popping her lips. She turned and gave him a bright smile. “What do you think?”

“Oh yeah, girl,” he said with a grin, “That’s a fuck me red, if I’ve ever seen one.” It was a bright red, like Christmas holly or a cartoon candy apple. The gloss looked like it was close to dripping down her chin, shimmery and sheen. Billy licked his lips and Heather’s grin turned sly.

“Oh I have the best idea.” She grabbed her makeup bag and plopped back beside him on the futon, turning to face him. Billy raised a brow.

“What?”

“We’re giving you a makeover,” she said with delight. Billy rolled his eyes.

“Heather--”

“Oh come on! Please? It’s 2019,” she begged, pouting. “Guys wear makeup now and you have the best eyes for makeup I swear. I am so jealous of your lashes you don’t even know, Billy.” He laughed at that, and then shook his head.

“Alright, fine. You’re right, I do have amazing eyes.” He heard shuffling and a thump, then Robin was behind Heather, a wide grin on her face.

“This is gonna be good.”

“Pull your hair back,” Heather said, tossing him a baby blue velvet scrunchie. He pulled his hair into a pony on the crown of his head, watching her pick through her various makeup bags. “Alright, close your eyes, Billy,” Heather cooed, picking out an eyeliner. He did, reluctantly, but his heart thudded in excitement. He’d never really tried out makeup before. Sure, he’d done eyeliner and some mascara, because he did have the best eyes for makeup, but anything more? His father had made sure he knew there’d be hell to pay if he ever tried. And once he got to college, well, he’d been too busy with schoolwork and keeping his scholarship that he didn’t really think about what it meant to be out from under his father’s roof. To be in control of himself. It wasn’t like he really wanted to do drag or anything either, but he’d always loved how he looked. Spent too much time staring at himself in the mirror, probably. And he knew, he fucking knew, that he’d look good in makeup.

“If you make me look like shit, Heather, I’m taking all of your scrunchies,” he warned, a smirk pulling at his lips. He heard her gasp, offended.

“You’ve seen my makeup--”

“Yeah, exactly,” he teased.

“I’m gonna give you orange eyeshadow if you don’t shut the fuck up,” she hissed.

“I’d still look good.”

“I dunno, Hargrove,” Robin drawled. “You’re not looking at this orange.”

“Dunno when I asked for your opinion, Buckley.” She snorted at that, and he imagined she probably rolled her eyes too. Billy liked Robin. She was quick witted, funny, and had a really special knack for making ‘dingus’ sound like a compliment. Also, she was friends with one Steve Harrington.

Steve was something else. He and Robin had been friends in high school, making the move out to Berkeley together. He’d helped Robin move in, like Billy had helped Heather, and the minute he had seen him, Billy had been obsessed. Steve was cute, fucking adorable, and then he’d run his hand through his hair and Billy had nearly short circuted imagining doing that himself. Then Steve had opened his mouth and proved himself to be so far out of Billy’s league. He was kind, goofy, but also stubborn and loyal, like a puppy. He was smart, if not a little naive, and he was funny. Pretty much the perfect fucking package.

But Billy knew that he’d ruin him. That he’d taint the goodness that was inherently in Steve, so he kept his crush to himself. And it proved fucking helpful just last week, in late October.

“Halloween is fine enough, I just had a bad breakup with my ex at a party in high school last year and it’s just a little tainted still.” Steve frowned as he sucked on the joint. Billy watched his lips intently, snapping his eyes up as Steve handed it to him.

“Oh?” Billy busied himself with taking a hit so he wouldn’t ask. He wasn’t sure Steve wanted to talk about it.

“Yeah,” he sighed, still looking up at the ceiling. “She got really drunk and kinda, let me have it? Then slept with someone else?” Billy exhaled sharply, eyes widening slightly. He ignored the clenching his chest at the revelation of it being a girlfriend.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “We made up, but like, it’s not a great memory anyway.”

“Well,” Billy offered, licking his lips, “We could hang out if you want. On halloween. Nothing big. Just get stoned and watch some horror movies or some shit.” His stomach was full of butterflies and he tried to squish them, trying to keep his hopes fucking down. Steve was most likely straight, and Billy really should have seen this coming. Still, it was kinda like a date and he’d never really been on a date before. Not with a guy, at least. Steve smiled a little.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Billy’s heart fluttered in his chest before sinking when Steve said, “Could I bring Robin?”

“Yeah, of course.” And that had been that. Billy had taken that as a rejection and tried his darndest to not think about Steve and his long fingers, longer legs, and his mesmerizing brown eyes. He didn’t do a very good job of it.

“No, no, no.” He zoned back in to Robin and Heather bickering.

“But the blue would look so good with his eyes!” Robin said.

“Well, duh,” Heather replied. “But gold fits Billy so much better! See, if I do golds and this coral here, his eyes will just pop!”

“Okay, okay,” Robin relented. “But if his eyes are gonna be all done up, you should really add some highlighter.”

“Oh yeah,” Heather nodded, “You’re so right.”

“Do I get an opinion?” Billy said, eyes still closed.

“No,” the girls replied in unison, and he smiled.

--

Steve was having the worst fucking day.

He’d spilled his coffee all over his notes that morning, had been late to his shift at the school store after a shitty phone call with his father, and was now being sexiled from his own dorm. He thunked his head against the hallway wall, wondering if the world could just swallow him up.

Plus, he’d been anxious about not hearing as much from Billy the past couple of weeks.

When he had invited Robin to the Halloween hang out, she had laughed at him for a full minute. He was confused until she brought up that Billy had been asking him on a date. Which didn’t make sense because Billy was obviously straight. Not that Steve was one to go on stereotypes, but Billy was a natural flirt and he’d just figured he was comfortable enough in himself to flirt with guys too. That he didn’t mean it. Because, well, look at him.

Billy was the kind of hot that slapped you in the face. When Steve had first seen him, muscles bulging as he carried a box on his own, his mouth had gone dry. He hadn’t looked away from his ass until Robin coughed pointedly. Then they had talked, and Billy had been smart and charming, and Steve was a sucker for both of those things. Hell, he’d gotten fucking hard listening to Billy theorize about his English homework a month ago.

And then Robin had rolled her eyes and said that Billy was gay as fuck, that he and Heather were best friends, not dating like Steve had assumed. So Steve held his head in his hands and groaned. Robin had laughed at him again, but told him that she would come if he really wanted her to.

“I mean, I want it to be him being interested so bad,” Steve groaned. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“Trust me,” she had dead panned, “I’m not.”

But Steve had made mistakes before. He’d been so positive about Christian, and that had ended so poorly. He really didn’t want to take any other chances. So she came and brought Heather, who Billy had invited. And it had been a fun evening and Steve had thought that maybe, just maybe, Billy was into him.

But then they hadn’t talked for a while, what with midterms coming up, only meeting when the whole group got together for study sessions with alcohol. It wasn’t super unusual, but Billy and Steve had been texting regularly, pretty much everyday, and suddenly it took him hours to respond, sometimes even a day or two. It wasn’t like it was pressing stuff, but Steve’s earlier hope and excitement at Billy’s possible interest was quickly dissolving.

And what sucked is he couldn’t even complain to Robin about it. Because she would fucking laugh at him and remind him it was his own damn fault. It also didn’t help that after he’d gotten a C and B on his last tests (which were some of his best and most steady grades in years, thank you very much), his father had used the phone call to resume his quest to get Steve to major in business instead of social care. Had talked over Steve’s excitement with disappointment in his voice that Steve still hadn’t chosen ’the right career’.

Steve sighed, thunking his head against the wall again, feeling sorry for himself. He needed a pick me up. He needed a drink. Robin was good for both. He took a deep breath and made his way to her dorm, wondering if Heather was there too. She was always good for a drink and maybe seeing Robin fail to talk to her crush could make him feel minimally better.

Also if she had just so happened to message him earlier that Billy was there to study, that was no one’s business. Steve would have gone there anyway.

He knocked when he arrived, waiting to come in since he hadn’t texted ahead of time. Robin opened the door, a weird and intense smile spreading on her face when she saw him.

“Oh no way,” she breathed. “This is perfect.”

“What?” Steve furrowed his brow. She pulled him into the room, smile still wide.

“Steve’s here!” She announced, way too perky. Steve started to get nervous.

“Oh great! He can tell me what he thinks!” Heather cheered. There was a strangled sound from next to her and once Steve had his bearings, he focused on Heather and-- promptly choked on his own spit. Billy was staring at him, hair up, face fucking glowing. Heather had her makeup spread out on the bed between them, her red lips pulled into a cheery smile. But Steve couldn’t focus because Billy’s lips were also so red and shiny and his eyes were breathtaking--

“So?” Heather asked, a knowing grin on her face. Steve opened and closed his mouth, trying to get back the ability to talk.

“I think he likes it,” Robin chuckled. Steve gave a nod, swallowing thickly. Billy was blushing, Steve could tell by the tips of his ears, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Uh, y-yeah, it’s great. It’s, uh, really great!” His voice shook a little because Billy’s fucking lips were just like, there.

“Thanks!” Heather said, ignoring the way Billy and Steve were staring at each other. “I could do your makeup sometime!”

“Sure,” Steve replied absently, not listening to a word she was saying. Heather rolled her eyes with a smile and crossed her arms.

“Oh my god, I actually can’t take this anymore, just fucking get it over with!” She said, exasperated but having fun. Both boys snapped out of their trance, looking at her with furrowed brows. Heather and Robin locked eyes before rolling them. “You think he looks fucking hot, right?” She directed this to Steve, who spluttered and turned bright red.

“O-Oh, I, uh, yeah? Uh, I mean, uh--”

“This is so embarrassing for you,” Robin said, almost in awe.

“Shut up,” Steve hissed.

“Uhm.” Billy’s voice cut through the tension, and everyone’s attention turned to him. He looked to Steve, still blushing. “You think I look hot?” Steve opened his mouth and Billy, obviously flustered, cut him off with, “I mean, of course you do, I’m a fucking snack.” He sniffed, trying to act unaffected. Heather looked to Robin, wondering if she should put them out of their misery.

“He also wants to suck your dick,” Robin added, making Steve gasp and turn on her, shocked.

“Robin! What the fuck!”

“You do?” Billy’s eyes were wide, but excited. Steve looked at him, shocked.

“What-- I-- Well, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head and smiled a little awkwardly. Billy smiled.

“Holloway, I need to talk to Steve in your room for a--”

“Oh no, you are not making out in here--”

“Oh come on,” Robin said, grabbing her arm. “Just use the fucking futon, you animals.” And she closed the door behind her. When Heather and Robin returned, having grabbed some pizza and beers for the evening, Steve and Billy were on the futon; Steve’s hair was wild and he had lipstick and gloss smudged around his lips, while Billy’s, lipstick ruined, were stretched into a smug smile.

“I think it’s time you two talked.”

[rpgmgames]

November’s Featured Game: Grimm's Hollow

DEVELOPER(S): ghosthunter ENGINE: RPG Maker 2003 GENRE: Indie RPG, Adventure WARNINGS: Discussions of death, losing a loved one, grief SUMMARY: Grimm’s Hollow is a spooky, freeware RPG where you search the afterlife for your brother. Reap ghosts with your scythe, explore haunted caves, and eat ghostly treats on your journey through death.

Download the game here! Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! *BB: My name's Bruno and I did some of the music along with Nat! I’m super happy to have participated in this game! *NW: I’m Nat Wesley, a.k.a. Natbird! I’m a composer available for hire with a few projects in the works. I’m honored to have had the chance to work on the soundtrack to Grimm’s Hollow! *GH: Hello! I go by ghosthunter online; I started developing RPGs with a friend in school when we found out that we both enjoyed RPG Horror. I enjoy art, webcomics, cartoons and narrative-driven indie games a lot. I bought RM2K3 on sale and started pouring pixel art into it, before learning how to do things like chase scenes, cutscenes, etc. I used to fantasize about making my own game, drawing dungeons and ghosts in the back of my sketchbooks, before I finally started Grimm’s Hollow. Now I’m near the end of high-school, and I’m hoping the best for uni!

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *GH: Grimm’s Hollow, originally, wasn’t as ambitious or personal. It was simply just going to be “my first game”, something that I could finally put my doodles and RM2K3 skills to. I wanted a game that a younger me would have enjoyed, back when I first discovered the classic RPGMaker games and replayed them constantly for those endings. That was my initial inspiration. It eventually evolved into an action turn-based RPG that relies on timing, yet it’s mostly narrative-driven. You traverse death in search of your sibling, and try to make an escape. There are unexpected pieces of me that ended up in this game, some of which I’m still noticing even now.

How long have you been working on your project? *GH: Since the summer of June 2018.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *GH: Standstill Girl, OFF by Mortis Ghost, Undertale, Over The Garden Wall, and the animation medium in general.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *GH: Many! Making your first game is such a giant learning curve, that the list of challenges goes on. I would say that the most difficult issue I encountered (and that, in some ways, I am still facing after release) is working around the limitations of the game engine I am using. I wanted to see whether creating an engaging but simple 1-party RPG in RM2K3 (without going completely custom) was feasible, and I experimented with quick time events as part of that. I worked around the engine’s built-in formulae so players could see progress when they upgraded their stats - although the game might display as defence as “10”, in reality the game stores it as 40 since the engine splits defence by 4. Since I did not want to create an RPG which was too complex for my first game, I also scrapped traditional staples such as armour or weapons. There were also issues such as having an appropriate “game over” handling event which wouldn’t shoot you back to the title screen after you lost a battle; getting RM2K3 to play a small cutscene where you faint and respawn somewhere else was tricky. I felt that if the player had to reload after a loss, it would disrupt the game flow.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *GH: Like I mentioned before, the game started off impersonal. I just had a soft spot for a spooky cute aesthetic, and I wanted to indulge in that. It was (and in its essence, still is) meant to be a short story, to keep the player invested for the short game length - nothing grandiose. The original draft did not have Baker play a role in the narrative - he was just an ordinary shopkeeper NPC. For a long time during development, Lavender did not even have a name. In the very first draft, she was a silent protagonist the player could name and customize. But she played a very active role in the final outline, so it was hard not to give her own unique voice when one emerged from the narrative naturally. I am glad I did; she grew on me quite quickly! Grimm was virtually unchanged from beginning to end. The only difference was that a close friend suggested that he seemed like he would be into drinking Oolong tea - so that’s what he offers you when you meet him. Timmy also did not go under massive overhauls like Lavender and Baker did, but his relationship with Lavender became much more fleshed out as I wrote the narrative. In other facets of the game’s design, there were not many changes to the original prototype.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *GH: It was just myself, doing the art, writing, programming, etc. But halfway through creating the second cave, I realised I would need a very specific sound for Grimm’s Hollow. So, I contacted Nat for music, but I also created a post on tumblr calling for a composer since there were many tracks to make. I met Bruno as a result! I am very happy with their work and I am so grateful I’ve got to work with them! (Some players are asking for an OST release, which is in the works).

What is the best part of developing a game? *GH: I really enjoyed the early stages of development: creating new tilesets, sprites and maps and piecing them together in the editor, then taking a small screenshot and sharing it with my friend over summer vacation … It was nice to see the game’s world slowly come together. I think that’s what I enjoyed the most from beginning to end: that sense of world-building, that sense of relaxation from making a small cosy game. The latter started to disappear as work and other responsibilities started to intrude, and pressure began to seep into development time - but I never stopped loving making the world and characters. I also want to say that, by lucky chance, I have met a lot of kind people from making my first game. I’m very grateful for that, so thank you to everyone.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *GH: All the time! Other RPG Maker 2003 projects are great inspirations for pixel art tilesets, as well as how to code harder features such as custom menus. They’re also just fun to play.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *GH: Lavender and Timmy are relatable to me in multiple ways. I can’t elaborate on Timmy since that would go into spoiler territory, but I somewhat relate to Lavender’s insistence on managing her life on her own - sometimes to her own detriment. I’d say the most fun character to write for was Grimm. He can be unintentionally silly while speaking in the most formal way, but also very caring too. Everything he does and says was easy to write, whereas I had to think harder for the interactions between everyone else - especially for very crucial scenes regarding their development. That being said, my favourite is still the game’s central two siblings. I can not pick between them for the life of me.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *GH: I wish I started testing even earlier! Not only does it give you a good sense of what’s missing, but seeing people enjoy what you’ve made yet get hindered by bugs is a very strong incentive to fix your game immediately. When I was lacking motivation or was stuck, I found that good feedback and support made me motivated again. I also wish that I could have pushed the deadline a little further, or perhaps released the game on Early Access since it will take me a while to refine post-release bugs - but as it is, the 31st of October really was the deadline for my game due to external circumstances (no, that deadline wasn’t just because it was Halloween!). Other than that, I wonder if using an updated version of RPG Maker would have produced the same game …? It’s hard to tell, but I hope people enjoy it for what it is - I will be working on that post-release patch soon!

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *GH: There are no current plans, but I would be happy to have the opportunity to improve and expand on the game. As it is, the game’s released for free and done as a hobby, so I would struggle to do that by myself.

What do you most look forward to now that you have finished the game? *GH: Earlier on, I was really looking forward to players’ reactions. Games are made to be fun, and I would have felt distraught if my game didn’t achieve what it was set out to do. Yet it was not just about the gameplay; it was about the narrative. I hoped that what I found funny, the player would too; what was heartfelt to me, was heartfelt to the player as well. Like sharing a laugh, or just a good experience together. I hoped they would enjoy the feeling that went into it, despite the struggle of making it against circumstance and limitations. Now, I look forward to resting and sleeping once this over. I want to explore my other interests, improve, and explore new media. I want to relax, and refocus again like I was before the heat of development.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *GH: Bugs! Some are easy to fix, but others are harder due to the limitations of the engine (e.g an error in one ending is caused by an overflow error).

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *GH: Show your game as early as possible, to as many people as possible. As soon as you have something playable, it’s ready for feedback. You’ll see if that game mechanic you spent hours refining works, or if it doesn’t work and why. You’ll understand what players enjoy and what they want more of, but also what they don’t like or don’t enjoy. And you will definitely encounter bugs. You’ll be able to pinpoint and fix minor problems early on that can easily become a larger issue later. You’ll be able to fine-tune your game so its best bits shine, and the difficulty is just right.

Question from last month's featured dev @dead-dreams-dev: Is there anything you’ve added to your game for no other reason than because you’re hoping fans will get a kick out of it? Fanservice, fourth wall breakage, references to other games, jokes, abilities that are just ridiculously overpowered and badass, etc? *GH: It’s hard to say; game design is trying to find the intersection between what’s good for the player, what the developer enjoys, and what’s feasible to implement. Every decision made should be conscious of that … I think a lot of the game’s early light-hearted jokes was not only made because I enjoyed it, but I hoped the player would “get a kick out of it” too. But more so, I think it’s because I would struggle to write a story which is serious and bleak from beginning to end. The game is a little self-indulgent in the narrative that way.

We mods would like to thank ghosthunter & team for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Grimm's Hollow if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum

[queenbirbs]

the open door | Ethan x MC

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC

Warnings: swearing, some brief mentions of corpses and body horror, spooks and possible spectres 

Word count: 7.7k

Premise: Bryce invites Sloane, Sienna, and Aurora on a tour of a haunted estate on the night before Halloween. What could go wrong?  

Notes: I’m super bummed that we didn’t get a Halloween-themed chapter for this book, especially since it’s my favorite holiday. Takes place post chapter 11, though I’ve played with the timeline a bit to include Halloween. Re-post because it fell out of the tag, as posts seem to want to do as of late. 

Taglist: @maurine07 @caseyvalentineramsey

 ------

“You are aware there’s no such thing as witches, right?” 

“Well, yeah,” Bryce scoffs. “Maybe. Besides, I said she was rumored to be a witch. That’s a whole different thing.”

“Oh, right, of course it is.” In the backseat, Aurora rolls her eyes. “Just tell that to all the people killed during the Salem witch trials due to mass hysteria.”

“Hey, now -- it’s not like she was killed for being a witch.”

“Right. She pulled a classic Rose for Emily,” Sloane mutters while Sienna makes a gagging noise.

“What?” Bryce asks. 

“It’s a short story by Faulkner.”

“Oh.” There’s a brief pause. Sloane wonders if he even knows who that is. Then: “Is he the dude that had a hard-on for the Civil War?”

“Yeah,” Aurora snorts. “Basically.” 

“Yeah, never read any of his stuff. I think I used SparkNotes for one of his books in undergrad.”

“Same,” Sloane admits, to which Bryce shoots her a look of faux-surprise. “Yeah, yeah, we all had to skate by sometimes.” 

“Well, well, well,” he crows. “Looks like the ‘next generation of medicine’ isn’t so high and mighty after all, huh?” 

“Wait, how did you--”

“Ramsey was four drinks deep at Donahue’s the other day, and one of the interns came up and bothered him about a possible spot on the team. Which meant we all overheard the twenty-minute spiel about what a great doctor you are.” He snickers as she puts a hand over her face and groans. “Yeah, it was real sweet. Real obvious, but sweet.”

She’s saved by the GPS on her phone, cutting through the music playing over the car speakers; Bryce takes the next exit as instructed. The off-ramp spits them out onto a two-lane county road.  Posted across from the solitary stop sign, the blue services sign offers nothing but blank, white squares. 

“There’s a bathroom, right?” Sienna asks. “Because I’m not seeing a gas station.”

“It’s a house, you guys,” Bryce scoffs, “not a cave.” 

“A haunted house,” she clarifies. 

“Well, I mean, I don’t think the toilets are haunted.”

For several miles, there’s nothing but sweeping woodlands and the occasional passing car. Long squiggles of tar decorate the asphalt, snaking across the empty, leaf-strewn road. The setting sun casts a golden hue over everything, spears of light cutting through the tree trunks. It would be a nice, evening drive if it weren’t for where they were headed. 

Forty minutes north of Boston lies the small, nondescript town of Angler. Even under the cover of dusk, Sloane can tell that it’s one of those towns. Pretty Tudors line the main street, their porches decorated with smiling scarecrows sitting on bales of hay; banners along the telephone poles advertise the annual apple festival. The bank and the post office and the dry cleaners are all tucked together in the refurbished general store. It’s the stereotypical, pleasant, all-American town. Which means that it’s the perfect place to hide a dark stain of history. 

Why Bryce signed up for such a thing and how he won the tickets is beyond her. When he asked them all to join him for a haunted house, Sloane expected the typical theme: some dingy warehouse refurbished enough to meet modern building codes, full of tight mazes and masked actors with chainsaws.

“Nah, guys, this is the real deal,” he gloated over lunch the previous afternoon. “Back in the 1800s, this woman -- uhh Margaret, or Maggie, I think, yeah Maggie Angler -- she was one of the Boston Brahmins, owned this estate out in the country, blah blah blah. No one knows a whole lot about her because she was a little weird and she kept to herself. At some point, this dude woos her and they get married. But then, a few years later, he dies. Neighbors drop by to offer casseroles or whatever, but she won’t answer the door, so they give up and leave her alone. A few months go by, and suddenly this dude from town goes missing. Then a year, and another goes missing. This continues for several years and--” 

“So, what, she’s some kind of black widow?” Elijah asked. 

“No, this isn’t one of those Marvel--” Bryce’s brow furrowed and then lifted, realization striking his handsome face. “--oh, heh, yeah, sorry. But yeah, sort of. It wasn’t until word got around that the latest dude was seen talking to Maggie at the store that people got suspicious of her. So, they gather up some people and storm the house, where they find a Satanic Bible and other spooky shit. But that’s not the only thing they find.”

They all glance around at each other, waiting to see who will encourage Bryce to break his silence and finish the damn story. “They also find... the missing dudes.”

“What, buried in the backyard?” Sloane asked, and frowned when Bryce shook his head. 

“No, not buried. She killed them and then kept them in the house. Supposedly, they were posed at the table or sitting on the couch, rotting away.”

 Sienna made a show of pushing her plate away. “That’s disgusting.”

“I know there’s a group of people in Indonesia that keep their dead relatives at home,” Aurora said, “but they’re preserved and cared for. This doesn’t sound like that.”

“Nope.” Elijah shook his head. “Definitely not the same thing.”

“What happened to the woman?” Sloane asked.

“No idea -- get this: they never found her.” Bryce lifted his eyebrows for dramatic effect. “But the story goes that she still haunts the place, searching for her lost lovers, and maybe… trying to get some new ones.”  

Jackie, who had been busy scrolling away on her phone through the tale, snorted into her salad. 

“And you want us to come with you to some evil witch’s house on the night before Halloween to go ghost hunting? I may not believe in any of this shit, but no fucking way.” 

“Yeah,” Elijah sighed, cringing at the crestfallen look on Bryce’s face. “Sorry dude, but I’ll pass. My idea of fun is a John Carpenter movie marathon, not a tour around Jane the Ripper’s house.” 

“Okay, understood.” With that, Bryce looked to the remaining three and turned on the charm, draping his arm across Sloane’s shoulders. “C’mon, ladies, whaddaya say? Hard to pass up the prospect of touring a bona fide haunted mansion with one of the most handsome men you know -- second only to Elijah here.”  

Tapping at her chin, Sienna nodded and grinned. “Sounds fun. I like scary things.” 

Aurora, on the other hand, shot him a skeptical look. “Are you going to shout at the air and act like you’re possessed, like I’ve seen that one ghost hunter do on TV? The one with the spiky hair?” she demanded to know. 

“Uhhh no to all of those things, but especially to the spiky hair.”  

“Okay, then,” she shrugged, “I’ll go.” 

Every eye at the table turned to Sloane; Bryce squeezed her shoulder in encouragement. 

“Alright,” she agreed. “It’d be fun to get spooked, I guess. I’m down.”

Which is how she comes to be in the passenger seat of Bryce’s car, leaning forward onto the dashboard as they take the final turn onto a hidden lane. A thick tunnel of trees swallows them up as they drive deeper into the woods. After several miles, there’s a break in the pines, and then: sprawled atop a hill, looming above them, is the house. Even if she hadn’t heard the backstory, Sloane feels like the place would still give her the creeps. With its filmy lace curtains and its tall windows glowing yellow in the approaching darkness, the house looks like it’s been pulled from an Edward Hopper painting. Worn pavers lead from the semi-circular driveway and up to the front porch. Framing either side of the steps, thin, brittle blades of tufted hairgrass shift in the wind. Two people turn from the front door and raise a hand in greeting.

Bryce kills the engine and twists around in his seat to grin at his compatriots. 

“You guys ready to get scaaaared?”

Sienna wraps her hands around Sloane’s seat and leans forward, her eyes wide as she stares out the windshield. 

“Why does it look like The Amityville Horror house?” 

“Is this a bad time to mention that the Blair Witch Project’s producers used this place as inspiration?”

“Yeah,” she hisses, “definitely a bad time.”

Shouldering open her door, Sloane lets in the cool October air in an attempt to corral their attention. It works; the rest of them pile out of the car with her and approach the couple. 

As the current owners of the property, Jack and Nancy Bell guide them through the main floor of the house, pointing out spots of reported activity. The interior is lovely -- one of those Sloane would see in a Pictagram post of a wedding venue, with all those carved banisters and original wainscoting. Her brother, a successful carpenter in the Twin Cities, would have a field day in here. Most of the furniture is original to the house, as well, and in surprisingly good condition.  

The only aspect setting the house apart from any other on the historical registry are the props. In the front hall, a bulletin board hosts an array of newspaper clippings. The earlier articles blame a serial killer, dubbed the ‘Butcher of Angler,’ for the mens’ disappearances. Then, starting on October 28th, 1892, the headlines change to the ‘Wicked Witch of Winthrope County.’ In the drawing room sits an Ouija board, surrounded by melted candles. A cauldron and a Satanic Bible share space on the kitchen counter; corked bottles of what look like cooking spices and herbs clutter the open cabinets. Mannequins lounge at the dining table or on the sofa, dressed in dusty clothes, their jaws slack, their painted eyes still and dull. Beside them, framed in cheap plastic, are the grainy photographs of the corpses as they were found. To Sloane, it all feels hokey, like a regular haunted house with the strobe lights turned off. 

There’s something else, though, something underneath the fine layer of dust and the creaking floorboards and the shrouded furniture. It skitters across her neck and down her back, making her shiver, which she discounts as a wayward draft in the old house. 

It’s the distinct feeling of being watched.  

“Aside from the big house, there’s a carriage house to the left there. We rent it out in the summer and fall for overnight stays.” Jack gestures to the east as they step out onto the back veranda, where, just beyond the slope of lawn, a smaller house sits with a solitary porch light glowing. “And back down the path there will lead you to the lake. When we bought the place, the deed stated that there was a cabin out near the state park line, but we’ve never been able to find evidence of it.”

“Maggie’s been seen down by the lake, too,” Nancy chimes in. “People say they see her there, inside the boathouse, or walking along the shore with her head down, as if she’s searching for something.” 

“We’ve got lanterns here if you want to use them as you go about the grounds, though you’re welcome to use your flashlights.” Jack nudges a neat row of antique lanterns with his sneaker. “For the optimal experience, though, we recommend turning off all the inside lights and using secondary light sources instead.” He chuckles when Sienna makes a throaty noise of dissent. 

The couple leads them back through the house and into the front hall to finish the tour. While Jack goes over the various rules, Nancy motions for Sloane to follow her out onto the front porch. 

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of your friends,” she starts off in a whisper, “but I wanted to talk to you about our son, Ben.”

For a fleeting moment, Sloane thinks that she’s going to get questioned about his bowel movements or a mysterious rash, that Bryce must have told them he was bringing along his doctor friends. “When he was seven, he nearly--” Nancy cuts herself off, pressing a hand to her heart, “--he drowned when we were at the beach in Florida. I did CPR until the EMTs got there, and they were able to resuscitate him, thank God.”

“I’m sorry,” Sloane murmurs, “that must’ve been awful.”

“It was. But I’m -- the reason I’m telling you all this is because, after that, Ben seems to be more… open. More open than the rest of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Sloane says again, though this time out of confusion, “but I don’t--”

With a huff, Nancy shakes her head and waves her hands. “No, no, I apologize. I must sound crazy. I just wanted to warn you that, due to what happened to you, you might see things or experience things that your friends can’t. That’s all, dear.” 

Sloane opens her mouth to question her further, but they’re interrupted by the rest of the gang filing out beside them. “We’ll be back at one a.m. to lock up behind you,” Nancy says as she follows her husband down to their car. 

With a cheery honk, the little Subaru rumbles down the winding driveway and disappears. The sun having set during the tour, the landscape before them is now draped with the heavy blanket of night. The moon peeks at them from just above the treetops, as if still deciding on whether or not to come out. The only lights are far-off, unmoving: porch lights of the houses back in town; cell towers with their red stars blinking lazily against the dark. A cold wind moves through the trees, rustling the leaves and scattering them across the front walk, the dried edges hissing along the brick. 

“Can you believe he said no alcohol?” Bryce breaks the silence with a whine. “I read about this fun séance thing you do with tequila shots and--” 

“No séances!” Sienna declares. “And definitely no tequila!” 

“Can we argue about this where it’s warmer?” Aurora suggests and steps back into the house. 

As she and Sienna wander off into the drawing room, Sloane wraps a hand around Bryce’s arm and pulls him back. 

“Did you tell her about me?”

His nose scrunches up to meet his furrowed brows. “Tell who about what?” 

“The-- Nancy, did you tell her about what happened to me? With… with the senator, and…” it’s embarrassing how much of a struggle it is to get the words out, even now, even after three weeks and two therapy appointments. 

His face falls from confusion to concern. Bryce reaches up and lays his hand over her own. 

“Slo, I didn’t tell them, I swear. I would never,” he promises. “Did she say something to you?”      

She loosens her hold, frustrated at herself that she even considered he would do such a thing. He’s one of her best friends, the man who handed over the reins to a cutting-edge surgery just to be by her side. 

“Yeah, no, listen: it’s fine,” she stumbles through a paltry reassurance. “She was probably trying to scare me, that’s all.” 

He gives her a quick once-over, lips twisting into a frown as he debates on whether or not to push. She bites back a breath of relief when he relents, his hand releasing hers.

“Okay,” he says, and nudges her into the house ahead of him. “C’mon. Between the two of us, I think we can convince them to turn off the lights.”

------

Although he puts up a good fight, Bryce loses on the no-lights front. 

Which is just as well, because by the time they reach the second floor, Sloane is glad for the light from the antique lamps. To be fair, nothing actually happens: no spooks, no spectres, and no signs from the former resident. Nothing she can point to with any amount of certainty. Whatever it is hovers out of reach, just on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t seem to give it a name. Maybe it lies -- like any good, scary movie -- in the setting. For as grand as the house is, time and dereliction have taken its fine features hostage. Thick, gray dust coats the wooden spindles and curled handrails of the antique staircase. The corridors are tight, the shadows gathering in the space where the lights can’t seem to reach. Small curls of peeling wallpaper look like fingers reaching out from the wall, backlit by the sconces. The cloying scent of wood rot and mold fills the air, like a pile of papers left to curl and yellow with age. The rooms are small, cluttered with furniture and trinkets and artwork. 

Sloane stares at such a portrait in the master bedroom, where a couple stares down at her from above the fireplace. The man sits in a chair, the woman standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder. It would be any other family portrait, if it weren’t for the unsettling glaze over the man’s sunken eyes. 

“Bryce, please don’t-- aaaand he’s sitting on the bed.” 

“You do know that’s where they found her husband, right?” Sienna points out. “That’s why there’s a mannequin on it. And a picture of his dead body on the nightstand.”

“Maybe Maggie will see what a catch I am if I’m laid out for her. I’ve never met a woman over the age of sixty who could resist my charms.” Bryce waggles his eyebrows as he bounces once, then twice on the mattress before stretching out. “What’s up, bro?” he asks the mannequin beside him before doing a double-take. “Hey, it’s Annie!”

He snatches off the ugly wig and fake beard, and lo and behold, an old CPR dummy gapes up at them all. Sloane snorts and shakes her head. 

“Looks like the years haven’t been kind to her.”   

“Probably saddled with student loans just like the rest of us,” Aurora mutters as she wanders over to inspect the photograph. “Had to get a second job here.”

“Hey, that was a joke!” Bryce commends. “And a pretty good one at that.”

“I do jokes.”

“You so do not.” 

A muffled bang from somewhere in the house stops their banter. Everyone glances at each other, verifying that everyone in their group is indeed in the room. 

“What was that?” Sienna whispers. 

“Probably the pipes,” Aurora says. “It is an old house.” 

As if on cue, the lights flicker once, then switch off, sinking them into complete darkness. There’s a flurry of noise as everyone digs out their phones; the bedroom seems even creepier, now, under the white glow of their flashlights.  

“What do we do?” Sienna hisses, scurrying from the window to latch onto Aurora.  

“We could always search for the breaker,” she suggests. 

“Which would be where?”

“In the basement, most likely.”

“Um, no,” Sienna balks. “Hell no.”  

“Are you guys serious right now?” Bryce hops down from the bed and pokes his head out the open doorway. “This is so cool! Who wants to go downstairs with me and grab the Ouija board?”

“If you bring that thing near me, I will break it in half.”

He grimaces at Sienna’s threat. 

“You’re not really supposed to do that with them. It’ll keep the door open for the spirits to come in.”

“It’s a toy made by Hasbro,” Aurora scoffs. “It’s not going to ‘let in’ anything. And the planchette doesn’t actually move on its own. That’s due to the ideomotor effect.”

Moving over to the window, Sloane presses her temple against the pane’s edge and squints. Just past the eastern wing, she spots a faint halo of yellow light on the lawn. 

“Hey,” she raises her voice over their bickering. “It looks like the carriage house still has power.” 

“Great!” Sienna squeaks and pulls Aurora with her towards the door. “Let’s check it out. I… love carriage houses.” 

They push past Bryce and start back down the hall. Turning from the doorway, a coy smile spreads across his face, a single eyebrow lifting at his wordless request. 

“Oh, no.” Sloane shakes her head as she crosses the room. “I’m not staying up here so you can play Twenty Questions with a ghost.”

She ignores his good-natured grumbling and leads him to the staircase, where Aurora and Sienna are waiting on the landing. Aimed at the ground, their flashlights slice at the hand-carved walls; dustmotes dance in the twin beams, kicked up by their feet. The air feels heavier, mustier here, too, like breathing through wet wool. They tromp down the stairs and across the first floor to the kitchen. Being at the back of the group, Sloane can’t help but glance back now and again at the shadowed recesses, searching for the source of her uneasiness. That she finds nothing amiss doesn’t seem to curb her anxiety. 

The sensation wanes when she closes the door behind them, sealing up the house once more. 

“How is it warmer outside than in there?” Sienna asks as they start cutting across the lawn for the carriage house.  

Bryce zips up his coat and shrugs. “I’ve heard that ghosts tend to suck the energy out of a room, creating cold spots when they mani--”

“Please stop talking,” she begs. “At least until we’re somewhere with electricity that actually works.” 

“Aw, come on, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve seen enough scary movies in your life to know that we’re safe if we travel together. Besides, everyone knows the funny guy goes first.”  

“I think that honor belongs to people of color, now, sorry.” Aurora chuckles when he spins around to wince at her. 

“Yeah, fair point.” 

Coated in fallen leaves, the ground crunches loud underneath their shoes, blocking out the night sounds as the four of them approach the smaller house. “But for real, I don’t think we have much to worry about from Maggie here. I mean, almost all ghost stories are about little white girls from Victorian times named Sally or Sarah or Kate.”

“That’s because of the spiritualism boom in the late nineteenth century,” Aurora answers.

Bryce sighs and quickly changes the subject, uninterested in a history lesson. 

Converted into a proper guest house sometime after the turn of the twentieth century, the carriage house lacks the severe decay of the main house. Though not as grand, the wallpaper here is intact, the dust not as heavy. It might just be the comforts of amenities such as central heating and electricity, but the inside of the house feels much more benign. As they complete a loop around the building, though, Sloane realizes that the feeling of being watched still remains, growing stronger when she passes or glances out one of the windows. With the glare of the lights, though, it’s hard to see much of anything past the panes. None of the others seem to be frightened -- or if they do, they keep quiet. The same can’t be said when Sienna flips the light on in the parlor.  

Toddler-size dolls lean against the walls, their porcelain hands cupped around their faces. Each wears a pretty, pastel dress trimmed in white lace, their hair falling down their backs in long, springy ringlets of dark brown, cherry red, and honey gold. Bryce makes a noise of disgust when he spins one around, its face blank: no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Time-out dolls, Sloane tells them, remembering her grandmother’s friend who owned several back in the early nineties -- though hers were all dressed as clowns. 

“People actually rent this place out? They pay money to stay here?” Sienna shudders. “I’d rather sleep in the other house, even with all the cobwebs and mannequins.”

“And the ghosts,” Bryce adds. 

“Ghosts don’t exist,” Aurora says. 

“Okay, Scully, that’s enough out of you.”

------

As the clock ticks closer to ten, Bryce votes to go check out the lake. Aurora and Sienna, however, vote to stay in the warm, well-lit kitchen. The plan is decided to split up and then meet back at the main house in time for midnight. 

“You know,” Bryce explains as he and Sloane make their way across the lawn, “because it’s the witching hour.”

“I thought it was three a.m.” 

“It is if you’re taking into account REM cycles and all that, but I’m not. All the legends I’ve read say…” he trails off, frowning as he jogs up the main house’s back steps. “Hey, you shut the door when we left, right?”

Her phone’s flashlight sweeps up the French doors; one of them is ajar, standing open several inches. She reaches for the handle and shuts it, listening for the snick of the latch.  

“I guess I didn’t pull it closed enough.”   

“Or,” he taunts as he grabs two of the lanterns from the porch, “something else opened it.” Ignoring her scoff, he pockets his phone and hands one of the lanterns to her. “These are nice. Do you think they’re original?”

“Bryce, they bought these from a Cracker Barrel. And besides, they’re battery-powered.” 

“Oh.” 

The back of the estate has been left to run wild. Overgrown swath rolls along the ground like dunes, snagging dead leaves between the dry blades. Thickets of barren shrubs creep out from the distant tree line. The path to the lake is marked by an old fence post, tied with a tattered ribbon. They make their way across the wide expanse of lawn, the trees ahead towering higher and higher the closer they get to the forest. Sloane can’t help but check over her shoulder. The house is just as they left it, though the moonlight is too weak to see if the door is still closed. 

Gravel crunches under their feet as they step onto the trail. The quiet night is broken by a ding from her phone. 

How goes the ghost hunting? 

She hooks the lantern in the crook of her arm and taps out her reply: Fun so far, lights went off by themselves. Very spooky 10/10

Ethan: What do fractions have to do with what you’re doing?

Sloane: Nvm 

Ethan: This isn’t 2002. You do have a full keyboard under your fingertips. 

Sloane: so?

Ethan: So there’s no excuse for using T9 acronyms.       

Sloane: Never thought I’d see the day you reprimand me for texting 

Ethan: I’ll spare you the lecture and let you get back to your witch hunt. Text me when you get home, please, so I know you returned safely. 

She hits send on the next message. Several seconds later, a red bubble appears beside her will do!, informing her that it refused to send. A quick glance at the top of the screen shows the one measly bar of service her phone is clinging onto. With a sigh, she tucks it away.   

“How’s Dr. Ramsey?” Bryce asks.

“Preparing a TEDtalk on prehistoric cell phone etiquette.” 

His nose scrunches up. “What?”

“Nothing,” she chuckles, exhaling through her mouth just to see her foggy breath. 

The light from the lanterns casts an eerie, yellow glow across the tree trunks and underbrush. Creaks and knocks echo up out of the dark -- branches smacking against each other as a cold wind sweeps through the area. The last vestiges of October skitter along the ground; the leaves almost sound like footsteps, dragging across the dirt behind them. The trail tightens as it winds down a small embankment and into a hollow. Their pace seems to pick up, though neither of them mention it. Sloane burrows into her scarf at the sudden dip in temperature.   

“How’s Keiki?” she asks, more so out of need to make conversation than actual curiosity.  

“Probably eating her way into a food coma with the pizza money I left for her, and beating all my high scores on Need for Speed.” He’s grinning as he says it, though, which Sloane finds encouraging. “I invited her to go with us, but she said no.” 

She doesn’t miss the crestfallen expression that crosses his face for a moment. 

“Trust me when I say this, because I speak from the experience of having a younger sibling, but she didn’t say no because she doesn’t like you or anything. It’s because she thinks you and your friends are dorks.” 

He sputters at the insult. “I’m not a dork!”

“You so totally are.”  

“Am not.” 

“Are too!” she argues. “Ethan thinks I’m bad, but you -- you come in on your days off and you like it.”

“That’s called dedication to the craft.” 

“That’s called being a dork.” 

What little she can see of the path ahead is more winding turns, more endless seas of bark and brushwood. But just when she thinks that they’ll never reach the end, that they’ll wind up stumbling upon Elly Kedward’s house -- there’s a small dot of light and then a break in the trees, where the path spits them out onto a rocky shore. The lake glints under their lanterns, the pearlescent gleam of the moon dancing on its surface. 

“Oh, hey, that was nice of them.”

Sloane’s gaze tracks along the shore and over to where he’s gestured. A solitary lantern sits in front of an old boathouse, illuminating the weathered cedar shake.  

“Too bad they can’t install lights along the path,” she mutters as they make their way to the structure. 

“What part of ‘bona fide haunted mansion’ did you not understand? This is the thrill of it!” 

Bryce shoulders open the door to a dim room with a half-sunken rowboat in the center. 

“Thrilling,” she drones, side-stepping his attempt to whack her arm. “Right.” 

They poke through the dirty raincoats and rusted tackle boxes. The wooden planks under their feet jostle and flex. Everything smells of wet and mold, the walls slick with grime. “I can think of several better places to haunt.” 

Bryce hums his agreement as he prods at a stack of old hunting magazines, the pages sealed together. Sloane steps over to look down at the boat, where minnows dart underneath the oars to escape her light. 

“Watch where you step,” she tells him as she crosses to the starboard side. “Some of these boards are really falling apa--”

The rest is lost to her shriek as the floor underneath her snaps. Her foot goes through the wood. She drops the lantern and scrambles to stay upright. The soggy planks slip from her grasp as she falls backwards, and then: water, the icy rush of it closing over her head. 

She fights back a gasp at the sudden cold. With her knee trapped in the joists, she can’t get her feet under her to kick to the surface. Her hands sweep out, flailing desperately. Something hard slams against her neck. She twists at the waist; the sunken lantern illuminates the long shadow of the boat. She digs her fingers into the wood. The cold saps at what strength she has, her muscles refusing to work as she tries to push herself out of the water. Her lungs ache; her heartbeat thuds inside her skull. Down in the murky depths below, a long shadow reaches towards her. Fingers, then hands seize her waist; her skin hits the cold air. Sloane blinks away the muddy haze that coats her eyes and sucks in a lungful of blessed oxygen. 

“Sloane!” Bryce shouts, as if he was expecting to pull out someone else. He ropes an arm around her back and helps her up out of the water. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of--” the rest of his words are lost to an undignified oof as Sloane wraps her arms around his neck. 

“Thanks.”

His hands come up to rest along her back, gently rubbing there to warm her frozen skin.

“I would say don’t mention it, but please do. The notoriety of me saving your life needs to make its way back to the hospital, so Rahul will finally go on a date with me.” 

She fights the urge to roll her eyes. 

“You would be concerned about getting a leg over while mine is still stuck.”

“Oh, whoops. Sorry, here, I’ll...” Sitting back on his heels, he steadies her against him and helps her shimmy out of the hole she’s made. Despite how saturated the planks are, her jeans are torn along her knee, where blood wells across several scratches. “Ouch,” he hisses. 

“Nothing a few bandages and a tetanus shot won’t fix,” she assures. Wobbling as she stands, Sloane limps over to the storage chest in the corner. The blanket she finds is tattered and smells of mold, but it’s better than braving the night’s chill in just her soaked sweater. “Alright, I want out of this place like yesterday.”

Bryce picks up his lantern and nods, following her out onto the shore and back onto the path. 

------

“And, I don’t know, he’s also distant with me sometimes, ya know? He’s hot, then he’s cold. He’ll flirt with me and agree to a date, but then he bails at the last second.”

“I get you.”

“That’s why I’m coming to you, oh wise one,” Bryce says with a grin. “Teach me your ways of dealing with difficult guys.”

Sloane laughs, the sound echoing through the quiet forest. Tucking the blanket tighter around her shoulders, she shakes her head. 

“Trust me, if I knew how to, I wouldn’t have such problems with my own.”

The cell phone in her pocket burns at the reminder of Ethan -- not that she could contact him if she wanted, given that the freezing water had zapped the last of its battery. 

“Yeah, but you could at least give me some pointers on how to wear him down.”

“Oh, my god, Bryce--”

“Okay, okay, not… ‘wear him down’... more, like, encouraging than that, I guess....” he trails off with a shrug. 

Humming as she thinks over her plan of attack, Sloane slows her pace to drop behind Bryce to skirt around a fallen tree -- until she can see it no more. “Fuck!” Bryce curses from in front of her, rattling the lantern as if abuse will bring it back to life. “Batteries must be dead. Let me…” There’s a rustling of clothes, a brief, hopeful inhale, then: “Fuck. Phone’s dead too. Must be the cold or something.” 

Sloane closes her eyes and opens them again, hoping that they will have miraculously adjusted to the dark -- but no such luck. With what little moonlight seeps through the canopy and the dusting of fog that’s rolled in, it’s hard to see farther than a few feet ahead. It will make this slow-going trek of theirs even slower. She scans the woods surrounding them and stops when she sees a pinprick of light back down the trail.

“I have an idea,” she says, “but you’re not going to like it.”

He does not, in fact, like her idea. But even he can’t argue against it. Besides, they’d only made it about a half-mile up the path, and the boathouse wasn’t that far back. 

Which is how Sloane comes to be sitting on the log, trying her best to ignore the darkness pressing in on her from all sides. If Aurora were here, she would be explaining that being afraid of the dark is just a concept carried over from early hominid days. Then again, if Aurora were here, she wouldn’t have had to send Bryce back for the other lantern, and they’d be back at the house by now. Sloane knows she should keep moving to stay warm, but she’s cold and wet and her knee is throbbing something awful. 

She’s uncertain of how much time passes before that silly bundle of nerves in her stomach morphs into the proper weight of worry. Bryce should be back by now. She knows he made it to the boathouse because the light through the trees is gone now. Her eyes have since adjusted to the night, which means it’s been at least thirty minutes. Maybe that lantern died, too, she reasons. Sloane listens for his familiar cursing, or his footsteps on the path -- but there’s nothing. The nighttime noises of the forest are gone: no animals, no birds, no wind. The stillness is nothing short of eerie, especially when she feels that now-familiar sensation of being watched.   

“Bryce?” she chances. 

From out of the black, she can hear someone walking down the path.  

“Bryce!” she shouts, struggling to her feet. “Sienna? Aurora? Is that you?” 

Whoever it is doesn’t respond. She starts down the trail towards them, cursing when she nearly trips over a rock. “Seriously, guys, I’m not in the mood--”

An awful sound echoes out of the dark, like a high-pitched whistle played over radio static. 

She freezes, pebbles and twigs skidding across the dirt at her sudden halt. Every hair on her body stands on-end, her muscles locked as adrenaline races through her. Sloane swallows and clenches her blanket tighter.  

The high-low tone of the whistle sounds again. Whatever’s out there is just beyond the reach of her vision. Sloane wheels around, her gaze darting across the shadows, as if she’ll be able to even see-- a light. It’s several hundred feet out in the forest, back in the direction of the house. It’s too far away to make out who’s holding it. It has to be Bryce, though -- playing a prank on her, as if she’d find this sort of thing funny in the state she’s in. 

She bites back a curse and hurries after him as best she can, keeping low to the ground in an effort to hide from whatever animal is out here with them. The trail becomes rougher, more overgrown as she trudges through the leaves and shoves away sticker bushes. Forced to waste precious time watching where she’s going, she glances up only to keep track of the light that grows closer every second. 

The whistle comes again -- louder, closer now. Whatever it is, it’s still following her. Sloane pushes through a thicket and stumbles into a clearing. Tucked between a small grove of pines in the center is a cabin. With the caved-in roof, sagging porch, and front steps that form nothing more than a woodpile, it’s obvious the place has long stood abandoned. Sitting on the porch and casting a glow into the open doorway is a lantern -- the same make as the others. Approaching the steps, she slowly leans up and snatches the lantern from the porch.  

“No fucking way,” she mutters to herself. “I don’t care if it is a bobcat out here, I’m not hiding in the Evil-Dead-looking-ass cabin.” 

The dark silhouettes of the trees rustle under the cold wind that blows through the glade. Carried with it is a different sound: voices, all slurred together, but forming one syllable. She steps away from the cabin and back towards the forest, straining to make it out. Her name, she realizes with relief. They’re calling her name.        

She sucks in a breath to yell back when movement catches her eye. Something dark curls away from the tree line, only to dart into the tall grass when she swings the lantern in its direction. Sloane squints at the underbrush it disappeared into, waiting for it to appear again. For a few, blessed moments, she thinks it’s run off, that it’s finally given up.   

Until a black shadow crawls out of the underbrush towards her, shrieking, braying like an animal in pain. It’s an ear-splitting cry, echoing across the clearing. Sloane tightens her grip on the lantern and bolts. Ducking back into the trees, she heads in a single direction, knowing that she’ll either hit the lake or the house -- of, if she runs far enough, the town. 

Shoving through low-hanging branches, she glances over her shoulder to see the shadow chasing her, peeling itself out of the shadows as it moves between the trees, somehow darker than the black surrounding them. Her foot hits a patch of wet leaves and she slips, skidding down the hillside and tumbling out onto a stretch of asphalt. She grits her teeth against the pain in her leg and crawls forward into the middle of the road. With no time for hesitating, she pushes to her feet and runs, hoping she’s picked the right direction. 

It wails again, in the trees to her left, scurrying across the hillside after her.   

“Fuck off!” she screams.

Another noise comes roaring out of the dark, drowning out her cry. Lights -- searing, blinding -- swing around the curve. Brakes squeal as the car swerves, narrowly missing her; glass shatters as Sloane staggers to the roadside, her lantern cracking as it hits the pavement and rolls off into the grass. The guard rail is like ice beneath her palm where she clutches it, using it to stay upright as her heart threatens to vacate her body through her throat. The hillside is drenched in red from the car’s tail lights. 

“Sloane!” 

Ethan -- it’s him, his car, he’s here, but he should be in Boston, shouldn’t he? He was when he texted her and that was only an hour ago so why is he here and how did he-- all of her panicked thoughts cease when he folds her into his arms and hugs her tight. The night around them is still, save for the purr of the engine and the soft dinging of the door ajar warning. 

“What the hell were you thinking, standing in the middle of the road like that?” he hisses, pulling her back to pin her down with his glare. “You could’ve-- I could’ve killed you.”

“You’re here,” she whispers. 

Her lips are numb from the cold and shock. She reaches up for the blanket, then realizes that she must’ve lost it somewhere along the way.

“Of course I’m here. You really need to stop scaring the hell out of me, you know that.” His brow furrows as he frowns, taking in the state of her. He slips off his own coat and bundles it around her. “Honey, you’re freezing. Let me--”

“We have to go,” she urges, remembering what’s waiting for her, out in the forest. Grabbing hold of his hand, she starts tugging him towards the car. “There’s -- in the woods, there was -- I don’t know, this thing, and it kept screaming, it was horrible--”

Ethan shushes her rambling and guides her into the car, buckling her seatbelt when her hands won’t stop shaking. She tucks her nose into the collar of his coat, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he backs the car up and turns back towards the estate. With one hand on the wheel, the other finds hers and holds tight. 

“Your friends called me when they couldn’t find you, wanted to know if I’d heard from you, in case you’d made it to somewhere with a working phone. I called you-- well, more than I’d care to admit, though it was obvious your phone was dead.” 

“How did you get here so fast?” she wonders aloud. 

“I got here around twelve-thirty, did a sweep of the woods. Around one I started driving around, hoping that I’d come across you in case you made it to the road.” He gives her a worried glance before returning to the road. “The others have been out with the sheriff’s office and the owners, searching the woods.” 

“But I… that doesn’t make any sense,” she tells him with a shake of her head. “It wasn’t even midnight when me and Bryce started back, and he was gone for twenty, maybe thirty minutes. And then I saw him-- well, not him, but at the time I thought it was him being an asshole-- and then that… thing chased after me and I got turned around, sure. But it couldn’t have been more than an hour.”

“Sloane, it’s nearly three in the morning.”

Her immediate reaction is to protest, but the concern in his tone and the clock on his dash render her mute. Which is for the best, she realizes later after pulling up to the house and seeing the driveway choked with cars: Bryce’s, the Bell’s, and several police cruisers. Modern floodlights tucked below the eaves turn the dark house into a bright beacon. Blue and red lights of the cruisers swirl across the lawn. As soon as they pull up, her friends race over to the car and wrap her into a hug. One of the cops takes her statement, ignoring Ethan’s insistence about getting her home and taking it over the phone instead. 

“Must’ve been a coyote,” the cop tells her after she’s finished. “We get a lot of reports of them out here, being so close to the state park.”

“A coyote,” Sloane repeats. 

“Well, sure,” he says with a shrug. “Unless you think it was something else?” 

She doesn’t have an answer for that. Having dealt with her fair share of wildlife coming down from the mountains and into her backyard growing up, she can’t remember ever hearing anything similar. Even her grandfather’s tales about the Wampus cat, her favorite spooky story as a kid, didn’t hold a candle to… to whatever was out there. 

After the cops leave and the Bells lock up, her friends pile into Bryce’s car for the ride home. Though not before Bryce shares with her his own experience with the mysterious shadow. However, he’d gotten a good look with the lantern. 

“It wasn’t an animal,” he whispers to her. “It was her. It was Maggie, I swear it.” 

Sloane didn’t know what to say to that. So she hadn’t said anything, just squeezed his hand and hugged him goodbye. Returning to Ethan’s car, she settled into the passenger seat, thankful for the change of clothes he had in the trunk -- and the first aid kit, of course.  

With the classical music floating out of the speakers and the warmth of his hand in hers again, it would’ve been easy for Sloane to close her eyes. She can’t help it, though, when they back out of the drive. She looks up to the long row of windows. It could be a trick of the headlights, but something watches them from around the lace curtains. As they start to pull away, it slinks back into the shadows of the house. 

------   

Author’s notes and what-have-yous: 

The inspiration for the Angler Estate is the abandoned Uplands Mansion in Baltimore, MD. If you like urbex stuff, I highly recommend looking up some videos of it on YouTube. It’s a gorgeous place, despite all the vandalism. The owners’ surname being Bell is a fun nod to the Bell Witch Cave, my state’s claim to supernatural fame. The mention of The Evil Dead cabin is another poke, since the 1981 original was filmed an hour away from where I live. 

The “watch where you step” line is pulled directly from Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune. 

[myrish-lace-love]

Fight/Flight/Freeze

Jonsa Halloween Day 3 - Tales or The Stranger

Summary:  Sansa Stark always looks forward to Halloween trips to the Wintertown pumpkin patch. This year, though, Joffrey Baratheon forces Sansa to go to the "Fright Fest" haunted house, a new addition to Wintertown's attractions. Sansa is stuck, until Jon Snow helps rescue her from danger. With Jon's help, Sansa remembers everything she loves about the Halloween season. For @jonsa-halloween

***

Sansa had grown up on Halloween tales of Samhain. The Gaelic holiday shared an evening with Halloween, and ushered in the darker half of the year. Her father had told them stories of how the barrier between the living and the dead thinned and shifted that night.

When Sansa’s mother passed away two years ago, Sansa’s father had tried to spin Samhain stories as a source of comfort, as a time when they all might feel closer to her. During the day, Sansa shared in the reminiscing about her mother, and could even bring herself to smile at some of her father’s stories.

Once night fell, that spell was broken, and a new spell descended. Sansa would keep the light on in her bedroom, startling each time the branches scraped against her window. When she closed her eyes, she'd seen her mother's ghost, red-eyed and terrible, shrieking for revenge. She'd woken up in tears each time.

She'd made the terrible mistake of calling Joffrey as she wept last Halloween. She'd imagined he'd be gallant, perhaps even come and rescue her.

Instead, Joffrey had been irritable, He’d hung up almost immediately. Sansa was mortified, but she's told herself at least it'd been quick - a phone call from a needy girlfriend that Joffrey would soon forget.

But the longer Sansa stayed with Joffrey, the more she understood that he coveted and collected moments of weakness. He derived a sick and twisted pleasure from exploiting those moments over and over.

Sansa had been raised to be a good and obedient girl, and for her that extended into being a good and obedient girlfriend, no matter the cost. Joffrey spent the rest of the year telling her grisly ghost stories and transforming movie night with his friends into horror fests.

Sansa had laughed, and tried to waive away her fears as part of just another game she and Joffrey played.

Joffrey's eyes would glint cruelly each time. He may not be able to tell when she was happy, or sad, or needed comforting, but he fed off her fear like a bloodsucking insect.

Sansa had tried to distract Joffrey this Halloween by offering up a trip to her favorite apple orchard, the Wintertown pumpkin patch. She'd expected to be turned down. She'd been excited, in fact, about taking Joffrey's inevitable cancellation and turning it into a trip with Margaery Tyrell. Margaery’s constant quest to get Sansa to break up with Joffrey would simply be a bonus.

Instead, to her surprise, he'd readily agreed.

Read more below or on AO3

Sansa had sighed, but taken it in stride. She'd been looking forward to the trip. The Wintertown pumpkin patch was full of her Halloween favorites - apple cider doughnuts, pumpkin picking, pony rides for the children who'd shout with joy.

Sansa had been one of those little girls once. Each year, until she was too old, she’d ridden a beautiful black pony she'd named Belle. She'd pretended she was an autumn queen and Belle was her loyal mare. Her father and her mother had smiled at her. The picture Robb had snapped of her patting Belle’s mane was tacked to her vanity mirror in her bedroom. Her mother and father had even indulged her in the gift shop, buying her a crown of fabric autumn leaves for her hair.

That was the Halloween Sansa loved - the changing of the seasons, the beauty of the leaves, the crisp fall air, the joy people took in being cozy and warm as the cold crept into town. Wintertown pumpkin patch meant all of those things to Sansa.

Wintertown pumpkin patch had changed with the times, however. The business needed to bring in more revenue, and now it was home to the "most terrifying" haunted house in the state, Fright Fest. Sansa had read the reviews of Fright Fest, hoping to see something like "it's got a few ghosts, but it's safe enough for the kids.”

Instead, patrons described it as "scarring" and "a bad idea for anyone under sixteen." More than one visitor gave the haunted house zero stars. Those reviews claimed that Fright Fest went too far, and "swept you up in the plot of a horror movie that you can't escape."

Joffrey, naturally, had been thrilled.

Now, as they pulled into the Wintertown parking lot, Joffrey was trying Sansa’s last nerve.

He argued with the parking attendant about being forced to park his Lexus in the mud. The apple orchard was in the middle of a field, and all of the spots were in the mud. Sansa fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She gazed up at the orchard’s trees and reveled in the movement of the leaves on the wind.

Joffrey grabbed her wrist, harder than he needed to. She stifled a whimper.

“Quit embarrassing me. Just....stop mooning over trees and let's get this over with.”

Get this over with . Sansa felt a flash of hope. She loved this apple orchard. She’d loved it since she was a child. If she could change Joffrey’s mind about what he wanted to do today...

"You're right about your father’s car, Joffrey," she said, giving him a bright smile. You shouldn’t have to endure getting mud all over the tires.”

She took a deep breath and pulled out another one of the strategies she used to appease him. “The staff here are rude, maybe they don’t deserve our business.” She winced inwardly as she said it. Her parents had brought her up to believe that everyone deserved to be approached with dignity and respect - especially people who weren’t in a position to object to bad treatment.

Joffrey's expression darkened, and Sansa knew she'd been too bold.

“This is my car, not my father's car.  He's practically given it to me, Joffrey snapped. “Besides we can't leave now, Sansa.” A sharp, predatory smile sprung to his lips, "We haven't been to the Fright Fest. And I know how much you've been looking forward to it.”

Sansa trembled. She hated haunted houses. She’d been frightened by them ever since she and her siblings had been children. Robb and Arya and Bran had tricked her into believing a ghost lived in the basement of the Winterfell mansion. They’d apologized, and Sansa had long since forgiven them, but the damage had been done.

Sansa did her best to calm the pounding of her heart as she and Joffrey paid their entry fee. Joffrey hustled her past the hayrides and pumpkin picking patch to the "main attraction" of the Fright Fest house. Sansa shrank back as the gloomy building loomed over her. The speakers blasted awful sounds - keening and wailing of lost souls. Worst of all, the speakers sometimes burst with a shrieking that stopped Sansa in her tracks.

That was it, the exact scream Sansa’s mother had made in Sansa's dream.

“Come on, stop stalling, let's go.” Joffrey practically shoved little kids out of the way to get to the entrance. The building was encrusted with gruesome rubber masks.  Snarling gargoyles covered the facade. Bloody handprints stained the ground, as if the victims had been crawling away after being slashed to pieces--

“Miss, are you all right?”

Sansa blinked, and slowly took in the young man staffing the door. She'd expected him to be dressed in full monster regalia.

Instead he wore farmer's overalls, and a worn blue shirt. He carried a plastic pumpkin full of candy, and his nametag read "Jon."

“Great, you got us stopped by the kiddie chaperone,” Joffrey snarled. He glared at Jon as he pushed Sansa towards the dark, cavernous entrance. “She's fine.”

Jon's eyes flashed. He put his hand on Joffrey's chest. Jon didn’t seem to push him, but Joffrey stopped dead in his tracks as if Jon's arm was made of granite.

“She's hyperventilating.” Jon was speaking to Joffrey, but Jon’s gaze was all for her.

Sansa flushed. “I'm - I'm fine, really l, he's right, I'm too scared for my own good, I'll, I won't cause trouble I promise--”

Jon was right, it was hard for her to breathe, and she trailed off.

Joffrey couldn't muscle his way past Jon. He stepped up the insults instead. “She's twenty two, not six.”

“We had someone faint in here earlier today,” Jon said firmly. “Big strong lad, built like a tank, passed out cold on the floor.”

Some of the cunning slipped back into Joffrey's voice. “Well too bad for that guy, sounds like a loser…”

Jon pulled the two of them aside, allowing other customers to enter. Sansa glanced over to her left and saw Jon's coworker, a slender man with the name Satin on his tag, taking tickets.

“Look mate, this place is designed to trigger the fight/flight/freeze reflex,” Jon said to Joffrey.

The gods had blessed Joffrey with an overabundance of wealth, but intelligence was another matter. "What?"

Jon sighed. “A ghost pops out, you punch someone, you run, or your feet get stuck to the floor.”

Joffrey grinned and tightened his grip on Sansa’s arm. “Oh she'll try to run, I'm sure, but I'll drag her through it. Doesn't she need to learn to face her fears?”

Joffrey might as well have said she's worthless, a child, she disgusts me, and I’ll scare her so badly she'll be ashamed to ever complain about this sort of thing again.

Jon looked Sansa up and down. Usually when guys gave her the once over her skin crawled, but the kindness in his eyes helped her relax.

Jon shook his head. "She doesn't need to face anything, not unless she wants to."

Sansa stood up straighter.

The corner of Jon's mouth quirked. “Besides, she's not going to run. She's a fighter."

“You've got to be kidding me,” Joffrey said.

Jon shrugged. “Had a martial arts instructor come through yesterday. Black belt. Teaches over at Citadel University. Helped me start out in judo."

Sansa gasped. "Brienne?" Brienne was an old friend of the family. Sansa’s father had invited Brienne over for dinner often. Sansa admired how steely Brienne’s demeanor could be, how well she carried herself. I’m nothing like her , Sansa thought.

Jon nodded. “That's her. Clocked Pyp right in the face. She came through during my break. Satin's new at this, he let her in. I never would have. Can’t have our staff getting hurt."

Joffrey scoffed. “You're telling me Sansa Stark, Ned Stark’s sweet eldest daughter, who cries when kittens get hurt on TV, is a fighter?"

“That's exactly what I'm telling you,” Jon said evenly.

He turned back to Sansa. “It's in the eyes,” he said softly. “That look. It's unmistakable.” Jon was speaking directly to her now. Everything else faded away as she got lost in his gaze.

“She's going to fight her way through this,” he murmured. Sansa wasn’t sure they were still talking about the haunted house. “She's going to break loose, the next time she's scared.”

Jon turned back to Joffrey.  “And if you're not careful, the person she punches could be you.” Sansa could have sworn Jon was growling.

When Joffrey spoke again he sounded shaken. "Whatever, just let us in.”

Jon stepped between Joffrey and Sansa. Sansa took a full, deep breath for the first time since she’d entered the park. "Go on, mate, feel free. But she isn't going with you."

“I'm going to find your manager and get you fired,” Joffrey sneered.

Jon smiled and pointed. “Go on ahead. He's over there, by the gift shop. Sandor Clegane. You might even know him.”

The color drained from Joffrey's face. Sandor Clegane had worked security for the  Baratheon family, until he stopped Joffrey from tormenting Tommen's cat. No one talked about it openly, but the small town had been buzzing with the news for weeks. Sandor stood by the door with his arms crossed. He wore a suit of armour that was far too well fitting to be a cheap costume.

“This is ridiculous,” Joffrey muttered. “I'm leaving.” He glared at Sansa. “Find your own way home with your new knight here.” He stormed off.

Sansa recovered shortly after. “I’m...not sure how to thank you,” she said softly to Jon unsteadily. “Thanks for fibbing for me, I really am too scared for my own good. I would have bolted or frozen or…."

The corner of Jon’s mouth twitched. “My gut tends to be right about these things. But now it’s up to you whether you go in or not.”

A portly man with glasses and the nametag "Sam" tapped Jon on the shoulder. "Shift's up Jon." Jon nodded absently at him.

With Joffrey gone, Sansa was at a loss. “Well, thank you again, for your help, I'll just…" She trailed off. She had enough money to get an Uber home - after a year of dating Joffrey she always brought enough money to get home on in case he caused a scene. Best to start calling for a car.

As she fumbled for her phone, her stomach growled.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, I don't mean to impose any more than I have already--”

“Oh no,” Sansa broke in. "You saved me there. I'm very grateful, Jon.” She smiled at him, and this time the smile came naturally.

Jon blushed. “Well, at any rate, would you like to get an apple cider doughnut? My parents used to bring me here as a kid--”

“So did mine.” Sansa could practically taste one now.

“And their doughnuts are the best,” Jon finished.

Jon walked her to the restaurant. They split three doughnuts between the two of them. Sansa licked the sugar off her fingers before she could remember to be ladylike. Jon laughed with her, not at her, and Wintertown pumpkin patch settled back in her mind as a place of comfort and refuge. Joffrey drifted further from her thoughts. Jon helped her pick out a pumpkin in the gift shop.

Jon walked her to her Uber. Before she could overthink things, she asked for his number. Jon flushed and mumbled through it.

**

Once Sansa arrived home, her Siberian husky Lady bounded up to her. Sansa laughed and showed her the brown paper sack with the pumpkin she and Jon had picked out.

After she’d lifted her small, round, perfectly orange pumpkin onto the kitchen table, she noticed another package at the bottom of the bag.

She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands. "Deluxe Pumpkin Carving Kit" was written in gaudy letters, and the plastic packaging was decorated with smiling cats and happy witches. An assortment of carving tools were inside. The kind that could slice through pumpkins, and leave children unscathed.

There was a handwritten note as well.

Dear Sansa,

For the next Halloween scuffle you're in. Or for carving pumpkins. I hope you feel comfortable coming back to Wintertown next season. I'll be manning the restaurant door in case you want to sample some more apple doughnuts. Thanks for making my day.

Have a great Halloween,

Jon

Sansa smiled. She got to work on her pumpkin, carving out a happy witch with a curly hat. She snapped a picture of her handiwork and texted it to Jon.

Jon texted back a pumpkin carved like a smiling cat. There's a big white Siberian husky in the photo with him, curled up on his couch.

Well now I have to send him a picture of Lady, she thought, if only to be polite.

***

Next year on Halloween, Jon made apple cider for the both of them. He didn’t use Wintertown pumpkin patch’s recipe, not exactly, since it was a secret. Sansa sighed in bliss when she took her first sip. She told Jon it was better than the cider at the pumpkin patch. When Jon ducked his head and tried to protest, Sansa kissed the corner of his mouth, and soon they forgot the cider entirely.