#2) how can I live life normally if this. keeps happening.

[fascinationstreetmp3]

What if...what if past dm didn't happen. How do you see it playing out? And actually give your two cents about danlou too plz. Cause sometimes I think he is the devil ( angel) to Daniel's minion. Idk if that makes sense?

admittedly it sometimes is difficult for me to shut off my "past dm definitely happened" thinking because im just so certain there are too many hints that it did LOL but...

for armand, there's this boy he wrote off in 1973, who he maybe genuinely couldn't find anything "fascinating" or extraordinary about, who he has perhaps been underestimating this whole time in 2022— i could see him realising that now daniel is truly sharp-minded and ruthless, with none of the attempts to knock him off balance really working, and he's figured out so much in such a short space of time and ultimately gotten the truth (and a little revenge) he was after in the end. there's something very intriguing in that, despite the anger he feels that daniel took everything from him.

maybe turning him could feel like a punishment to armand (even though i think daniel did want to be a vampire by that point, armand might not realise that. and it could also be a form of punishment for louis, taking away daniel's humanity in a perversion of letting him live for louis in 1973), but maybe it's also subconsciously a way of keeping around someone who has figured him out and seen him so quickly, even if that is something he runs from.

for daniel, i think everything that went down in dubai sort of "woke him up." when we first see him, he looks bored, tired, and lonely. he barely talks to his family, only enough for them to know he's sick, and he's teaching internet classes now. the pandemic has kept him away from the world but it also feels like the passion has seeped out of him long before that. at this point he's expecting to die someday soon and leave his daughters some cash. being invited for a second interview with louis doesn't immediately break him out of that mindset; it's invigorated him some by the end of the first season, but once there's an even bigger mystery to crack after armand reveals himself, that's when he really starts enjoying himself.

by the end of season 2, daniel is so far in it he doesn't want it to stop, chasing a high. and for that reason, even if the turning was "spiteful" on armand's part, i think daniel would've wanted to be turned either way. just like daniel in the books, he can't go back to an ordinary life and function normally or sit around waiting to die after being so involved in this world. armand gives it to him in some form— but daniel wants more, he wants answers and a story from armand, he wants to crack the truth about him and figure out "where the bullshit starts." so he chases after him when armand leaves, and it turns into an inverse of their original chase in the books:

the highlighted lines could actually actually work in reverse in this scenario too— daniel wants to know what makes armand so fascinating, wants to know what and who he really is. even down to daniel himself not being able to move about by day now when armand can. and as the chase goes on, they learn more about one another, becoming drawn to each other despite the animosity between them.

as for the second part of your question, do you mean danlou kind of acting as the show's version of devil's minion? or their relationship being more similar to what armand and daniel's is in the books? i see danlou as something unique, and especially if there was any kind of past dm, i don't know that louis would be directly involved— in the sense that i believe he wouldn't be happy to fuck with this kid's life even further than he already did, with the "think of me as god or an angel" speech he gave trying to set daniel free from everything he'd seen and heard from armand. even if louis doesn't really care as much about humanity in general as he sometimes claims, daniel is a symbol of something to louis, proof he can still do good.

whereas with armand, no matter what love was there, dm is ultimately about keeping daniel embroiled in that life. armand shares his blood and lets daniel get addicted to it, and it slowly breaks daniel apart until he's losing his mind.

like you said, louis is more the "angel" where armand's the "devil." in a past dm scenario i actually think it's possible the words louis speaks to daniel in 1973 could be something that helps daniel towards the end of his relationship with armand in the 80s ("if things ever get bad again," "these words will hold you up and carry you; they are your lifeline") and could be what led to him finally breaking free of armand and maybe asking to be "let go" if he really won't ever turn him.

but to me whether past dm happened or not, danlou is about daniel being the first person in a long time to listen to louis both in 1973 and 2022, louis changing and saving daniel's life in a way no one else ever did, and daniel coming back 50 years later and eventually returning the favour. they're both fathers to daughters, they've both repressed themselves in various ways, they've both had their memories messed with by armand.

they're the vampire and the interviewer who kick off the whole story being told, and i think the show portrays that very well, keeping them (and hopefully their relationship) relevant going forward and expanding on their relationship with each other in a way the books never did, and not really borrowing any dynamic from dm or anyone else. armand of course hangs over them both, the same way louis hangs over dm, the same way daniel factors into loumand in 1973 and 2022, and they're all important to each other for different reasons.

[sombra-conlangs]

Conlang year 2025 · Day 1 - 4

I decided to try out @quothalinguist's conlang year, it is basically a series of daily prompts that guide you through the process of creating a new language, by the end of the year you will end up with a conlang that is developed enough to participate in relays and lexember, you can find it on quothalinguist.com

It looks like conlang year is mostly geared towards creating languages that are naturalistic and evolved from a proto-language, and the concept I have for this is not going to really fit into that, you'll see why once I start describing it, but I don't imagine that'll be too much of an issue, it's still useful to have a guide for the different aspects of the language I should focus on. I'll try to adapt the prompts to work with my idea and I guess I'll skip the ones that I can't figure out how to adapt.

I'll be combining many prompts together into single posts for convenience, I'll tag these posts as both #Conlang year and #Conlang year 2025 so you can search those in my blog to see them all if you want (once I name the language I will also add it to the tags, but the language doesn't have a name yet).

If you want to see all of the information from these posts compiled into one place I will be adding all of the information about the conlang I create on my website: tekseni.bearblog.dev

Day 1: Set an intention for your language

(warning: this gets a bit heavy, but I try not to make it too dour)

I haven't been feeling great lately, I won't go into details, I'll just say that it can be difficult to manage your emotions when the world seems to be in such a terrible state, living through historical events is not easy.

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

I know there's some people who say you have to be constantly staying informed on every bit of news because if you don't you're a bad person, but that's not a sustainable way to live. It's important for us to keep ourselves sane, if you're going to help others through turbulent times you have to make sure you have your own feet on firm ground. I won't be of much help if I'm having a crisis, so taking care of my own mental health is important, and for many of us that can include a bit of escapism and using art as an outlet, using art as motivation to keep going and enjoy life despite the circumstances. This conlang is my escapism.

With all of that being said, here's my 2 main goals for this conlang:

1: I want this language to make me smile

I want to create something that helps me to find some beauty and hope in the world, I want the choices I make with the language to make me smile, and I want to be able to have fun while working on it, without having to worry too much about how naturalistic it is or anything like that, so ideally I'd also avoid comparing this to other conlangs.

If we compare this to visual art, I'd say this is less like trying to create an awesome painting with perfect perspective, colors and composition, and it's more like me doodling in a sketchbook that is meant primarily for me, but I also want to share it with others in case they find it to be at least mildly interesting or it helps inspire them in some way.

It's not like my other conlangs don't bring me joy, I guess what I'm trying to say is that this time I will try to design the language without worrying about things like naturalism or trying too hard to make my worldbuilding interesting or deep, it's just a canvas where I can throw paint and let myself go wild, trying out things I normally wouldn't, and making choices based on my personal preferences instead of what I think I "should" do, so I guess that makes this is a personal language.

2: This is going to be a surrealistic conlang

I have already decided who the speakers of my language will be, I'll elaborate more in the following prompts but I currently call them "dream angels" because they're basically benevolent beings that exist in the world of dreams, and because of this I want to try my hand at making a surrealistic conlang, @dedalvs wrote an essay on fiat lingua about what such a language might look like, and I keep coming back to it every now and then because I love the concept.

Even before that essay was posted I remember thinking of what conlangs might look like if they were inspired by different art movements, and a surrealistic one fits particularly well into the dream world idea, it will also allow me to fulfill my first goal fairly easily; making something that makes me smile without having to worry about naturalism and letting myself experiment. I've always been drawn to surrealism for one reason or another, not entirely sure why but I know this is something I'm excited to work on.

I'm not expecting this to be the best surrealistic conlang out there, but it doesn't have to be, it just has to be fun for me, and it will work as a learning experience regardless, so if I want to try again at some point I will have a better idea of how to approach it. I'm sure someone out there will make an amazing surrealistic conlang one day and I'll be excited to see it when it happens.

Day 2: Set an intention for sharing your language

Basically the main audience is me, I hope that future me will be able to look at all the different translations, grammar choices and vocabulary I made and feel like it's a fun language that still brings me some joy in some way or another, even if I don't keep working on it for much longer after the conlang year has ended at least I hope it was a positive experience.

I also want to share the language online (on this blog and on my conlang website) mostly because I'm hoping that at least one person is going to look at my conlang and feel inspired, or maybe it will make them smile too, so I'm going to try to describe all the features in a way that is understandable for other conlangers.

Day 3: Determine your speakers and conworld

The basic idea is that there is another plane of existence, one we can't see when we're awake, and the world where dreams exist is connected to this other realm, so when we dream we sometimes come into contact with the ethereal beings that speak this language, and they are kind and loving.

The dream angels usually don't interfere with human affairs too much, but they sometimes help us by making nightmares go away and soothing the people they see, at least while the people are asleep (since they can't interact with us outside of dreams).

They also shift the way they speak to be a bit more familiar to the person they're encountering, so I imagine the phonology of their language might shift a bit from its default form depending on what your native language is, the language would still be unintelligible to you but it would sound a bit like someone speaking your L1 in a weird way (which also means that it will be easier for you to pronounce the language if you are able to speak back at them because you will at least get to use sounds you already know how to pronounce, though you're welcome to pronounce it in its original form).

These beings are very surreal in their appearance, there's probably different types of dream angels but the ones I'll be working with are kind of like a mix of various sea creatures, drifting through space peacefully, building all sorts of things and admiring the nature that exists in their world.

I imagine their settlements are built on floating islands full of all sorts of critters and nature, and their world as a whole is probably a bit weird and doesn't always seem to follow logical rules, in keeping with the kind of things you see in dreams, so they might look a bit like something you'd see in an M.C. Escher artwork, where you're not exactly sure what you're looking at, but it has a certain beauty to it.

Day 4: Describe (or design) your speakers

And finally here's a picture I drew of a prototypical dream angel:

They might look a bit intimidating or scary to you, but I chose to take inspiration mostly from various sea creatures because they help to convey this kind of ethereal and weirdly beautiful aesthetic, when I look at jellyfish I often wonder how those are living beings that exist in our world, they look more like they're inanimate objects drifting in the water and yet they're alive, and they're so mesmerizing and fascinating, like a living nebula.

I imagine different dream angels would have different characteristics, but in general they're basically like some sort of jellyfish with 3 main tentacle-like appendages, many thin tendrils, 6 insect-like arms, 6 little wings (because it makes them look a bit more angelic lol) and they have one eye, but no human has ever seen their eyes because it is always covered by something, in this case it's a butterfly, but whatever is covering their eye it does not prevent them from seeing, this is the dream world after all.

I think there might be other types of dream angels, and they're all able to speak a human-like language because they don't need a mouth to speak, they just telepathically send sounds to other beings, so the speakers of my language will be characterized by being similar to sea creatures, perhaps there's other dream angels that are more similar to other types of animals, or inanimate objects, maybe some are just completely out there and don't even look like anything we're familiar with as humans. By the way if you feel inspired to design your own dream angels go ahead! I think it'd be nice if I was able to inspire creativity in others with my work.

I'm also choosing to use a human-pronounceable phonology because I enjoy pronouncing the words and sentences of my conlangs, but perhaps at some other point I will make a different register of the language that uses different noises as phonemes, maybe sounds of water and nature, or maybe something like one of those really peaceful synths, after all their phonology is not limited by their physiology or even things like logic.

But anyway that's it for now, I feel a bit vulnerable putting myself out there so much, this feels a bit more personal than my other conlangs I've shared, it's not like a regular fantasy worldbuilding project or a fanlang or an a posteriori language, this one is very out there and weird, but again I want to share it in case other people find it interesting, and hey, we need more examples of surrealistic conlangs, so I'm more than happy to contribute to that.

[girlivealwaysbean]

my sister called me and kept asking excitedly that what's happening in my life and

[hobisexually]

x

[s-soulwriter]

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #1 be disciplined

[ the 2025 glow up serie ? Click here !]

Motivation feels amazing, doesn’t it? It’s like a spark—a burst of energy that pushes you forward. But what happens when the spark fades? That’s where discipline steps in. It’s the routine you build, the habits you cultivate, and the consistency you stick to even on days you don’t feel like it.

So, instead of waiting to feel ready, discipline says, ‘Let’s go, regardless.’ It’s the engine that turns dreams into reality.

"Ask urself right now: What’s one thing I can commit to daily in 2025? Write it down. Small steps lead to giant leaps."

1.Building Your Disciplined

How do u stay disciplined? Start with these three small steps:

✒️.Growth is not supposed to feel good. You’re going to hate it. You’ll feel like quitting more times than you can count. That’s normal. Growth is built in the moments where you want to give up but don’t.

1. Create Clear Goals: Be specific. Instead of saying, ‘I’ll study more,’ say, ‘I’ll study history for 30 minutes every evening.’ BUY A SMALL NOTEBOOK AND WRITE ALL UR GOALS WITH SMALLER ONE TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE

2. Track Progress: Whether it’s journaling or using an app, tracking helps you stay accountable.

3.Master Your Mindset: Stop waiting to "feel motivated." Understand that motivation is fleeting, but discipline is reliable. Every time your brain tells you to quit, remind yourself: your emotions don’t run the show—your goals do.

2.Excuses Are Lies

Excuses are lies you’ve sold yourself to stay comfortable. 'I’m too tired.' Lie. 'I don’t have time.' Lie. 'I’m just not motivated.' Biggest lie of all.

Here’s the truth: You’re scared. Scared of failure, scared of discomfort, scared of how much effort it takes to change. But let me tell you something: Fear is temporary. Regret is forever. Which one do you want to live with?

No more excuses. You don’t need more time. You need more discipline. You don’t need motivation. You need action. Stop talking about what you want and start doing the work to get it. Right now.

3.look at yourself in the mirror

Look yourself in the mirror tonight and ask: Am I proud of the choices I made today? If the answer is no, fix it tomorrow. And if the answer is still no, fix it the next day. Don’t let yourself off the hook.

2025 isn’t your year unless you make it your year. Stop expecting change to happen to you. You are the change. Get out of your head, get off the couch, and get to work. The only thing standing between you and the life you want is your own laziness. Crush it.

4.Action Plan for a Disciplined Life

Stop acting like you’re doing enough when you know you’re not. If you want that dream college, that perfect GPA, or that career you keep fantasizing about, you need to stop wasting time and follow a real plan. Get up the second your alarm goes off—no snooze, no excuses. Tackle the hardest, most uncomfortable task first thing in the morning because procrastination is for quitters. Create a non-negotiable schedule and stick to it like your life depends on it, because it does. Eliminate every distraction: delete the apps, unfollow the nonsense, and stop treating your phone like your best friend. Hold yourself accountable—write down your progress every day. If you didn’t do anything to move forward, face the fact that you’re the problem. Plan your next day before you sleep, so you wake up ready to win, not wander. And for the love of everything you want in life, stop choosing comfort over progress. Your excuses won’t get you that GPA, that acceptance letter, or that dream job—but discipline will.

breaking this into chunks

1. Kill the Snooze Button: Get out of bed the moment your alarm goes off. No "just 5 more minutes." Those 5 minutes are the difference between starting strong and losing the day.

2. Start With the Hard Stuff: Tackle your most challenging task first thing in the day. Procrastination is your enemy—eat the frog and move on.

3. Create a Non-Negotiable Schedule: Block out specific times for studying, working out, or any critical task. Treat these blocks like appointments with your future self—don’t cancel.

4. Cut Out Time-Wasters: Delete apps you waste time on. Unfollow distractions. If you spend hours scrolling or binge-watching, you’re digging your own grave.

5. Build Accountability: Tell someone your goals and have them call you out when you slack. Better yet, make it public—you’ll hate embarrassing yourself in front of others.

6. Track Progress Daily: Write down everything you’ve done that day to move closer to your goals. If you haven’t done anything, face the hard truth: you’re slacking.

7. Plan Tomorrow Tonight: Before you go to bed, write out your next day’s schedule. If you wake up without a plan, you’ve already lost.

8. Say No to Comfort: Skip the cozy excuses. If it’s not pushing you closer to your goals, it’s holding you back.

Discipline is the foundation of every success story. It’s not about luck, talent, or fleeting motivation—it’s about showing up, doing the hard work, and making the right choices every single day. If you want to achieve your dreams, you need to stop waiting for the perfect moment and start building habits that get you closer to your goals. Cut the excuses, own your failures, and take control of your life. The road to greatness isn’t easy, but every sacrifice, every uncomfortable moment, and every disciplined action will take you one step closer to the future you deserve. You either make it happen, or you watch someone else do it. The choice is yours. The clock is not waiting for u !

@bloomzone ✒️

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

What I love about Dungeon Meshi is that it writes platonic relationships with the same weight romantic stories would normally be written.

The Character that Got Their Heart Broken Too Many Times

Humanity broke Laois' heart. This is taken advantage later on by the Wingled Lion, but I digress.

Laois got bullied in all-boys school to the point that he ran away to become a soldier. Heartbreak #1.

He got harrassed in the training camp to the point that he became a deserter. Heartbreak #2.

The combination of these events were so bad, his lack of basic self-care can be a sign of a depressive state. If Falin hadn't joined him, who knows what would've happened to him.

Laois was so happy when he became friends with Shuro and felt so betrayed when Toshiro said he couldn't stand him. Not exactly a heartbreak #3 but it hurt all the same. They got past it but Laois remembers.

And when Kabru, for once in his life, stopped playing poker and laid down his cards, Laois wasn't going to let his heart be hurt for the fourth time.

The biggest thing that stands out to me in this manner is how Kabru's blurted confession of wanting to be friends with Laois was treated as much as a big revelation as a romantic one. Because the weight of that confession is Kabru's character development.

The Character Whose Sincerity Doesn't Come Easy for Him

This guy grew up being infantilized and not taken seriously by the elves for being a short-lived race. So, he honed diplomacy as sharp as his assassin's blade.

He knows the right things to say and when to say them, making him well-liked by everyone (much to his team's chagrin over their loved ones). And yet his personal cause puts a distance between him and his trusted teammates (including his childhood friend).

To say his true feelings and thoughts would end up with long-lived races dismissing him for being unwise and irrational.

So he keeps his cards to himself and works with subtlety throughout the manga, until things got worse, and he couldn't make Laois stay.

And he was left with nothing but to be sincere.

Right from the start, he said he wanted the Touden siblings to be unmasked. But in the end, he unmasked himself, much to his horror.

Addition edit: Kabru has been keeping his cards close to himself for so long, I don't think he realized what he really feels until he blurted it out. He chased after Laois throughout the dungeon because Laois might defeat the mad sorcerer. But for a guy who wants to understand everyone, he never understands what he feels about Laois and what that feeling means until his brain catches up with his mouth.

After decking Laois for not believing him, Kabru elaborated in his confession. He has developed a platonic crush (plush for short) or desire to be friends with Laois because:

1. Kabru wants to understand how Laois could love the very thing Kabru hates. Hate is just another face of fear. We fear what we don't understand. To understand Laois is to understand monsters. I think Kabru finds it admirable that Laois could admire monsters when everyone just view them as a threat.

2. He wants Laois to care about the same thing he does, which is saving humanity. Laois and co. are willing to side with the demon to protect Marcille from the Canaries. By asking to be Laois friend, Kabru becomes Laois' link to humanity that whatever they would do from there with the demon, please don't forget how it might affect other people outside his friends. And by gods, this is important to Kabru's development because he has never asked for help for his cause nor asked anyone to care because he's too used to the self-serving nature of all races. And yet, he chose to believe in Laois. Because if Laois could go that for his sister and elven friend, what more if he could do the same for what Kabru cares the most?

However, it was only in the end that they were able to talk after things had settled down. And they are so different and so alike at the same time.

Source

In this scene, there are two differing thoughts:

Laois, who experienced social rejection growing up: Do you still mean it?

Kabru, who had to deal with those of higher power: Are you testing me?

But they're still thinking the same thing: Is this real?

Like, all of their motivations have the weight often molded into romantic plots in any other story. A character who got their heart broken too many times and another character whose honesty does not come easy for them. But it's not a romantic story, but a start of a beautiful friendship.

There are more examples out there, but this is what came to my mind. Feel free to add more.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror horror movie-part 2

Part 1

Once again this is inspired by surrealist horror books and podcasts. This is mainly inspired by Welcome to Nightvale more directly with other influences as well.

The people of Amity Park are strange. The entire town was off.

Wes, the teenager that worked late at the gas station was not the talkative sort but he gave quite the few clues.

"You aren't from here aren't you?" He said cleaning the black blood off his face.

"Uh, no. We are hero sent to investigate-" Superman tried to explain but Wes began laughing.

"Heros?! Haha! That's a new one. Alright, nutcases you got me." Wes laughed "New people are great. I only get locals these days."

"Wait, so no one outside the town comes here?" Batman asked, still trying to keep this investigation on track.

Wes went silent.

"No one comes here. This gas station is on the edge of town." He picked up his book again.

"If no one comes to this town why is there a gas station built just outside the city limits?" Batman asked this time more firmly.

"Let me specify. People tend to come here once. People come into town every once in a while and they stay. They don't leave. No one leaves." Wes didn't sound like he was making a threat just saying what he believed.

"That's not normal. Why would that happen?" Batman asked.

Wes sighed deeply as if he had this conversation time and time again.

"People don't just end up here. Usually, the ones that come here are those that want to leave their old life behind. They don't look for this place they just end up here. Sometimes they get freaked out but they settle like the rest of us and just make their place here." He explained but he really didn't feel like it.

When another question popped up Wes just turned his radio to a station and turned it all the way up.

"Good Evening citizens of Amity Park. It is another beautiful night here in our quiet little town. Here at the local public broadcast station, we wish you a great day and we hope that you remembered to not leave your shoes outside your door. Amanda Sawyer forgot last Saturday and hasn't been seen since. Please remember or end up like poor Amanda. This was a warning from the town's public health committee." A young but not too young voice said over the radio. "You know that is the mark of a caring local government. Sure they spend so much on bloodstone alters and bi-yearly mandatory festivals but we all know it's for our health and happiness. Now moving on to current events: A group of strangely dressed visitors are in our town. They are at the Cabbymart Gas Station at the end of town. They are asking Wes a lot of questions and Wes as always is in a bad mood. Hang in there Wes we all have those days. Retail am I right? We'll check in later with an update as this story evolves. Remember to welcome our visitors when you see them. Until then here is the-."

The broadcast was switched off as Wes turned to another station.

"Who was that? What was that actually?!" Flash asked hysterically.

"That's just Danny. He works at the radio station now." Wes grunted still not in the mood.

"Okay but how did he know we were here? We just got here and we haven't even gone into town."

"He just knows. I don't even get what you're asking! Why wouldn't he know, he reports the news?! Look can you guys just buy something or leave?" Wes said exasperated.

The heroes had little chance of getting more answers out of the teen so they went into town. Despite it being past midnight now the people of Amity Park were up and about. Watering their gardens and talking in front of illuminated cafés. They all looked carefree and jovial. Even a woman greeted them like the sight of people dressed in capes and spandex was normal.

But things here seemed out of place. Things just didn't match. Bloodstains made patterns into the sidewalk like children's sidewalk chalk.

The buzz if the radio station broadcast could be heard from window sills.

"We interrupt this broadcast for our sponsor Subway. Subway: Eat your cold dead heart out. Now with that out of the way an update on the revolutionary ghost situation. The mayor had formally declared that he would be kept at the museum where he could parade about however he liked. I'm sure the children of the town will adore his charming way of shooting at nothing and spending an hour to reload. There is also an update on the amusement park now that Mr.Stiches caretaker role has been filled by my friend Sam we can expect the horror house can finally reopen for the season. Buy tickets now. And lastly the update on the stangers in town. The brightly colored fellows are still meandering around town. I wonder what they're thinking. Probably things like: Where are these bloodstains from? What are we doing here? And most importantly. Will I ever see my family again? All good questions."

Amity Park was a strange place. But the people liked it that way. They never blinked twice at the horrid and horrific thanks that happened. Perhaps they were monsters in their own right but unlike the jaded masses of Gotham, they were downright jovial about it. In their world, there weren't demonic entities or ancient gods. What they experienced were things, undefined by mortals. Reality blurred with something else, somewhere else. So they adapted.

It was when the heros was a group of children attacked this Thing with long knurled limp and lips like puss-filled sacs under the watchful eyes of parents did they understand. They were the monsters here.

"Another win for Girl Scout Troop 667 in their hunt. Their parents must be so proud. It brings me back to 4th grade when all the children were kidnapped and brought to the library by the monstrosities we call librarians for the summer reading program. Had it not been for Valerie and her high reading comprehension score and display of berserker rage tactics we would have probably all died. I still remember as she stood over the body of the fallen librarian with the bloodied book Hannibal held aloft. She was an inspiration to us all and the reason we fled to the woods to train under her as her children's militia. Books and knives in hand we well-read warriors set out to keep our town safe. Remember kids of Amity Park, we look to heroes like Valerie and the clawed librarian's hand that hangs around her neck as a symbol of pride. Don't forget to return your library book. The librarians are still alive and while the most feral ones have been disposed of there still is a small population of them left in order to preserve the local food chain and they can smell late returns."

[hermitcraftx]

Joel winning the Life Series where he centered his entire gimmick this season around Family under the guise of "Joel Toretto" makes me insane because he was alone for so long in the Life Series and it works out so perfectly that the guy who was allergic to allies for the start of the life series and had to be forced into it with soulmates wins the season he focuses on Family. Poetic cinema.

1. Third Life Joel. No friends. No allies. He joined up with Monopoly Mountain last minute and died out of sight of either of them, mostly alone. He had a house full of dogs, not full of friends (and where is that familiar?), and nobody really mourned him when he was gone, offhand comments and brief "Oh No!s" following his death. Being alone got him nothing.

2. Last Life Joel. No friends. He's alone again, for the most part. In Last Life there's a lot of unknowns, a lot of instability- people can get back in yellow or green, or they try, so Joel has temporary red alliances with the likes of Scar and Grian but they don't last. He's alone. Again. Joel laments it, in one of his videos, IIRC, that he's bad at making allies, and "look at where it got him". The closest person he had to an ally in Last Life was Grian when they were both red, Grian seeing first hand how insane and blood thirsty Joel becomes on red. They call themselves the Deadliest Duo, and they kill people, and they laugh when they die. But Joel dies, still, killed by Scott, shortly after Grian permadies.

3. Double Life. Now it's different. Now we're seeing some changes. Joel gets put with Etho, who off the bat immediately considers him a liability, a notion he rejects and fights against to get Etho to respect him. He builds Etho a ship to try and impress him. Etho purposefully takes fall damage to remind him of what's at stake. He's not just a lone wolf, anymore, Etho's life is in his hands and he's not happy about it. Joel hates it, being treated fragile and like a bomb to go off. Eventually, they find out they work together well, they get killed, they go red and Joel goes crazy. Red rage is a real, definable, re-occuring phenomenon for Joel, he IS angry and he DOES want to make people pay. Etho in the life series is usually more reserved, and he holds Joel back, yes, but Joel also helps Etho out of his shell and pushes him to do things he wouldn't normally do. The ship burns everything burns. And then they burned. And Joel's first real alliance goes up in flames, literally.

4. Now Joel has a taste of what it's like to not be alone the entire season. He teams up with Jimmy and Grian, his Bad Boys, and he's fiercely loyal to them, and then to him. (Even Grian by his standards is FIERCELY loyal to the Bad Boys- I mean, he doesn't even kill one of them! I think. Not permanently?) He changes his skin, matching leather jackets, these are his people. And he'd die for his people. Joel and Grian try their best to keep Jimmy alive, Joel going so far as to say he'd have sacrificed himself to keep Jim alive, but it wasn't enough, he wasn't quick enough, and he died right afterwards, leaving Grian alone. But he wasn't alone. And he didn't go out alone.

5. Secret Life is.... weird. He has allies, yes, but it's a bit of a strange situation, he allies with the Mounders and he lives a bit of a ways away from them, not quite in the group but not quite out of it. But he doesn't want to be alone again. He knows what happens when you're alone in this game, and he doesn't ever want that to happen to him again. Mumbo goes out almost immediately following Jimmy, the third to go out. Pearl IIRC betrays the Mounders and messes around with Gem, which is really funny given the events of Wild Life. It's only him and Bdubs at the end, both murdered by Scott.

6. Now. Wild Life. Again. Joel knows what happens if you're alone in this series, and he never wants it to happen to him again. So he bases his persona around a movie character, one that everyone knows and likes, he thinks. He makes himself someone that he thinks people will want to befriend, one where he won't have to be alone. He makes himself look strong, fake muscles clumsily attached to his arms, quoting about family and the importance of it, a vast difference from the lonely man in 3rd Life and Last Life who couldn't be assed to find allies. And it works. He has Gem- and everyone fears them, for once. Everyone already knows Joel is insane, but with Gem behind him, he's a significant threat. Gem keeps him grounded, and from doing stupid shit that gets him killed. They have Etho, and he comes and visits, which is nice. Everyone struggles a lot with the Wild Cards early game but them, neither of them losing lives for several sessions. Joel even comments that normally he's red by session 4, and he doesn't know what to do with himself without all that anger. He lives his best life, with Gem, with his car.

And then Grian's allies die, and isn't that familiar, and Joel lets him into the Family, because of course he would, allying with Grian is like second nature to him at this point. Maybe he feels guilty for leaving him in Limited Life, or maybe he just knows what it's like to be alone and doesn't want that for him. Who knows. He tries and fails at building traps. As soon as he's yellow he gets a double kill on Scott and Pearl, and Grian and Jimmy scream with him like old times. And it's okay, I mean it's stressful and it's like the end of the world but Joel's doing okay, he has his family, he's not alone.

And then the finale comes and it's so hectic and so many people are trying to kill him and Grian saves him, Grian tries so hard to save him, and isn't that something. Being worthy of being saved by Grian. And Gem goes out, not even to a player, to a vex, one of his family members is gone and it's so hectic Joel can't even stop to mourn or he, too, will die. And then he finds Grian and he stumbles to him screaming "Thank God you're alive!" because it had gotten so crazy, so wild that Joel didn't truly even know if Grian was alive, but he was, he still had Family, he wasn't alone again, not this time. And Grian says that he thinks Joel can win, Joel can win, that he'll give Joel his life, that it's about time he wins and Joel gets flashbacks to wanting to die for Jimmy, and Scar wanting to die for Grian and what that did to him, and he doesn't want that, but GOD he wants to win. So badly. And then Grian got knocked off the tower with Bdubs, ender pearling off, screaming how he refused to go like Mumbo, like Skizz, not on his tower and Joel's running, EVERYONE is targeting him, Grian takes out Pearl and Joel takes out Cleo and Ren.

And then it's just them, then it's just Joel and Grian, and Joel can't even find Grian, he just heard the arrows as Grian tries to shoot him, going back on his word as expected, which Joel-- Joel is glad for. Because he wanted to win this on his own terms, he wanted to win because he won, he would not be given anything. He's not alone this time. And he charges up the tree, and he kills Grian, kills his Family, his Bad Boy, his red friend, his ally in the sand, screaming that he's sorry, and Joel laughs.

Joel laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DAD I need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DAD He’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DAD Just coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at you you want me to lie under oath?

DAD Just talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DAD Good girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[steddielations]

Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

[silvercoloredskiess]

Yandere Front Man/In-Ho x Reader (Platonic)

Note: I believe this is my first time writing anything yandere, like ever :P. So I apologize if this is bad. In-Ho struck me as a father-like person and after watching season 2 last month I wanted to write a oneshot about this. I was lightly inspired by some others I saw on here so I don't intend to straight-up copy. Have fun :-)

Reader doesn't have an assumed gender

Warning: Obviously yandere front man as your father, mentions of killing and blood since this is the squid game after all.

Word count: 968 (5,210 characters)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since you were born, your life has never been normal. Not even the slightest. Though your father tried very hard to disguise this as normal, but you knew it wasn't right. From a young age you had been locked up in some strange place you called home. It wasn't exactly the wholesome neighborhood homes full of warmth and smiling families like what you saw on TV; how you wished that was true. It sounded like a dream to be able to go to school, make lifelong friends, potentially find a lover (if that's your thing), and bask in innocence.

Instead you woke up everyday to the same room. Your bedroom was very different from all the other rooms. It was very nicely decorated by your father himself. It was his attempt to make you comfortable when in reality you never fell for his tricks.

Life inside this place wasn't fun at all. You never knew if it even had an exit. You weren't allowed to use any device because you would try to escape. So your days were spent lazing around in your room constantly feeling lonely. You couldn't roam around much around the place, and there were too many restricted areas for you to count. You always had to have meals served to your room and you weren't allowed outside your room past 7 pm.

But those boring and dreary days were nothing compared to the most dreaded times of the year; the annual Squid Games. It was when your 'home' was suddenly added with 456 people, all in green tracksuits. They all looked scared. And it was painful to see what was going to happen to all but one of them. From your room you could hear screaming, gunshots, and the arguing of players between who voted to end the games and those that voted to continue them.

Sometimes your father made you watch these moments, so you constantly flinched or closed your eyes.

"Dad.. why do you make me watch these games? Why do you keep facilitating them year after year!?" You yelled at him.

But your father calmly replied, "Do you think we force all these folks to join the games? They do this on their own. 45.6 billion won won't come by its own. Don't you see they still voted to continue the games despite the consequences? Don't feel bad for them when they wanted this.."

Your eyes widened. "B-but... that doesn't matter! Why don't we give them all some money and they can start living a good life?"

"You're cute" Your father grinned at you. "You've seen how desperate they all get for that prize money. They're all filled with greed and selfishness. Nothing will change that. They all have huge debts to pay and only this amount can guarantee them a stable life to start over on."

"I guess so...."

You stared at the floor in silence. You knew what was happening next, though; the lights out game you had to witness. And you knew the only thing coming out of it was when the lights turned back on to reveal the blood-stained walls and floors.

You thought of a way to stop the game, and tried to sneak to the control room, which was accessed through the iconic colorful room. However, you had caught the eye of a player since you they were trying to sneak out of the game. You tried to walk past him since he looked very crazy, but he grabbed your arm.

"WHAT ARE YOU D-" you yelled, but got cut off by the man.

"Ssssh. Be quiet, little one. Show me the way out, and you're free."

You got very shaky but tried to show him the way with him gripping your arm still. You were practically whimpering. But suddenly, you heard a gunshot and the man was spewing out blood, collapsing to the ground. It appeared he had been shot in the head from behind.

That was when you panicked even more, thinking you were next. But before you could run too far, a hand gripped you still. You recognized it was your father's instantly.

"Those who break the rules are punished." Your father said, glancing at the dead player. "Looks like it's time for clean up. I'll organize the guards."

You couldn't believe what just happened. The player was dangerous, but shooting him in the head wasn't necessary. Furthermore, you never knew your father was this possessive of you. But it all made sense as to why he controlled almost everything you did.

The guards, all with circles on their masks and their bright pink costumes, walked by you to put the body in a black box with a pretty pink bow holding it together. You didn't see the scene for too long since a certain guard with a square on its mask guided you back to your room, where you always were. There your father was sitting there, his legs crossed.

"Why would you sneak out like that!? You foolish child. Don't you know how to obey the rules?"

You sat there in silence, shaking.

"I..... I just wanted to.. to uh.. make the lights out game stop by going to the control room. I'm sorry."

Your father sighed.

"You're lucky we have cameras all across this place. But I never want you to disobey me again. Your punishment is, you will be staying right here for this entire week. You have everything you need right in your bedroom."

You were going to reply to that, but you decided to just not deal with it and do as he says. You were still trying to clear your mind of what happened ten minutes ago. The thought of him killing anyone who dared to touch you was haunting you the whole night

BTW, EDIT: PART 2 IS UP :) https://www.tumblr.com/silvercoloredskiess/773335237345312768/yandere-front-manin-ho-x-reader-platonic-part?source=share

[natalchartnurtures]

•Pick-A-Meme• How Do Your Friends View You?

1-2-3 >>

Cue the intro to F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Pile 1:

Spirit message to open your reading – "a bundle of joy." Aw, haha, I get a really warm, expansive energy radiating from you. It's quite beautiful as I sit in it right now. It’s as if I’m basking in soft sunshine on a Sunday morning—so light, so golden. This is exactly how your friends view you. You’re a ray of soft sunshine, pile 1. Believe it or not, you are the embodiment of joy and kindness to the people around you. Your presence is deeply felt and appreciated, especially in the world we live in rn.

Your friends may think you’re incredibly lucky? Maybe you’re the lucky charm of your friend group? Or maybe it’s just that you bring a lot of fun wherever you go. You give me fairy vibes tbh. You remind me of Tinker Bell sprinkling her pixie dust wherever she goes (you don’t have to be a ‘she’ to take that message, btw) and lifting people’s frequency without even trying to. This could happen on subconscious levels as well, so your friends might not know how to put a finger on how you make them feel. They might just describe you as a lovely person to be around.

Ooh, I’m getting that even though you might like to keep your circle small, you may have a lot of people around you generally. It might just be that you make a lot of people feel like they want to get into your close circle but can’t. You probably don’t even realize it, lol. To you, you’re just living a normal life and being your fairy-ass self—cute, kind, generous, wonderful, authentic, divine, and casually powerful (lol). Let me tell you, IT HAS A PROFOUND IMPACT on everybody you know and interact with, not just your friends. You impact strangers, acquaintances, potential romantic suitors (which you have a TON of, I hear—not sure if you know this).

Your presence is felt, pile 1. I don’t care if you’re a wallflower or a theater kid. You. Are. The IT GIRL/BOY/PERSON of the room, and that’s it. You may be blissfully unaware of it (and that’s a sign that your aura is heavily protected, which is a good thing, so dw).

MOVING ON—your friends view you as a go-getter. They see you as incredibly creative and capable of achieving whatever you set your mind to. You give BALANCE, in every sense of the word. You are equally feminine, loving, nurturing, and caring as you are protective, fierce, and masculine. This quality of yours is so bloody admired. You are the textbook example of integrity, pile 1. Wow. I’m in awe of your energy. Keep it up, sweets—you must’ve done some really intense inner healing to get to such a beautiful internal place.

Now, things take a very interesting turn. I see that a lot of the people you know but aren’t especially close with may be interested in you romantically but don’t come forth with their intentions. They prefer to simply stay in the "friend" zone (maybe ‘cause they feel unworthy of stepping towards you? Idk). These people seem to be in their distorted masculine energy, and you seem to trigger the ever-loving crap outta them, lmao. It’s just your beautiful light that automatically does it for you, yk.

People you know (but aren’t close with) could secretly be jealous of you. In their eyes, you’re living the dream life—whatever that means for them. But just know that you’re heavily protected at this time, yea? Any kind of energy that could potentially harm you will be dealt with by Spirit. Spirit wants only the best for you, and your energy demands nothing but the very best. So if you feel rejected, lonely, or like not a lot is happening in your life, it’s because of this. Take rejection as a positive sign that you’re divinely protected :)

So, that’s how your friends view you! Hope you enjoyed this read—I can’t wait to see you on my next one :] Have a nice rest of your day, sweet pea! And stay your divine, amazing-ass self, tehe ✨️

If you'd like to know more about how your friends view you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2:

Opening energies for the pile – I heard the song "Reincarnated" by Kendrick Lamar as I tapped into how your friends view you. Pile 2, I must say... your friends view you as a badass person. Hardcore, intense, low tolerance for BS, and possibly having old-soul energy is how your friends see you. They love your sarcasm, your witty humor and the light energy you bring to everything you do.

Also... I’m ngl, your friends think you’re a bit like Kendrick Lamar himself, haha. They might think you’re really talented at something and potentially have star quality, too. Do you have any major Leo energy in your chart, maybe? ‘Cause you sure come off that way to your friends, and they LOVE this leaning vibe about you. You seem so open, generous, and childlike with your friends but intense to people who aren’t, haha lmao. You may have an RBF that scares some people away 😂 (but enjoy that, maybe?). You’re hilarious.

Side note: If you’ve ever considered doing stand-up comedy, I see you being super successful at it 😁👀

Do you like Kendrick Lamar, pile 2? ‘Cause that song I channeled is playing in my ears LOUD and clear as I’m reading for you, haha.

Your friends might view you as somebody with a complex but deeply satisfying and rich inner world. You may love being by yourself as much as you love goofing off with your friends. They find this very interesting about you, tbh. They see you as somebody that’s “detached but VERY cool.”

You come across as the cool boy/girl/person in the room. You have an energy that stands out, and the best part is you don’t even care, haha. You’re just living in your own mind and checked out from the world unless there’s something worthwhile that catches your attention irl. Haha, that’s so iconic.

Ooh... your friends may view you as very attractive, too, ‘cause I just saw Christina Aguilera from her Dirrty MV, and boy, does she EAT in that ICONIC VIDEO. That MV is how I can summarize your energy and how it’s viewed by your friends, pile 2. It’s quite powerful (in a nonchalant typa way), too ngl. Like "Dont care. Didnt ask" you simply don't seem to give a fuck, lmao.

You might be deeply spiritual, and to your friends, it comes as a very mysterious part of you. They don’t fully understand it, but on some level, they acknowledge that it’s a BIG part of who you are and respect it for what it is.

They view you as highly individualistic. As someone who’s gonna do what they wanna do and still land on their feet every time. They view you as “this person will be fine no matter what happens,” ‘cause I feel this raw strength emanating from you, which your friends easily pick up on. It’s something they love about you, too, yk.

Your friends view you as somebody who finds it hard to let their guard down. They see you as someone who’s come from a difficult life/upbringing, and they understand that you need your space from time to time. You seem to have very mature and protective friends, pile 2! Good for you, haha.

They view you as somebody who is content and fulfilled in their life despite any past challenges. They admire everything you’ve accomplished despite these challenges. And if you’ve been through a transformation recently, they really see this shift inside you, and they’re really happy about it 😊👀

They might feel as if you still struggle with some things related to your past, though, but on some level, they expect to see a breakthrough in your energy soon. They know for a fact you’ll get over anything ‘cause, according to them, you eat challenges for breakfast 😂 Haha, love that.

So, that’s how your friends view you! Hope you enjoyed this read—I can’t wait to see you on my next one :] Have a nice rest of your day, sweet pea! And stay your divine, badass self, tehe ✨

If you'd like to know more about how your friends view you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3:

Spirit messages to open your reading – "inspiring and very healing to be." You give papa bear energy, pile 3 (regardless of your gender). You have this sweet and tender vibe towards your friends, and that’s how they see you. Somebody with a precious heart and an even more precious mind—always buzzing and alive with thoughts.

Your friends might reeeeally love chatting with you. You give me therapist vibes, tbh. Talking to you is sooooo soothing. But I think what your friends don’t understand is that while you give great advice and are fun to talk to, you might not always be in a good place mentally. I feel like your friends assume that you’re fine on the inside when you’re not? Maybe they have a false impression of you? Hm. Interesting. This might be ‘cause you simply keep your mental health struggles to yourself.

You don’t want your friends to bear what you think is your burden to bear. You don’t wanna bleed on everybody else, so to speak, and this has your friends viewing you as a light ✨. You give me strong Chiron vibes, tbh—the wounded healer in every sense of the word. You have quiet compassion towards people in general, and that’s really appreciated, but not necessarily always seen. If that’s the case with you, I’m so sorry, pile 3. You deserve to be CELEBRATED for your heart and deserve friends that truly appreciate you!

Your friends view you as a bit of a mom figure in their lives. Maybe you take on a lot of responsibility, so they see you that way. You are viewed as a safe space where anybody can be themselves without feeling judged. This is that therapist energy I was picking up from your vibe earlier. You might have some very emotionally disconnected (and potentially immature) friends in your life, pile 3. Hm.

Interestingly, your friends also see you as somebody who's not a pushover, though. You know how to burn a bridge when it's time, and this is something about you that's respected. They could describe you as someone who's a nice person but not a doormat. You know how to move on and get that REVENGE if you're pushed to your limits—and you'd do it with such ease that the people you've left behind might be baffled by it.

I'm also getting that you might've gone through a heartbreak recently? If so, I'm sending you loads of love, sweet pea. Hope you heal well from this. I see that beyond this heartbreak is a fresh new start for you, leading you straight into a joyous outcome. Like, say you broke up with your significant other—I see you meeting new people by the end of your healing period, potentially even your next suitor! (Apply this to whatever situation you're in, though.)

But yeah, to sum it up, your friends view you as a wonderful friend, confidant, and just... a healing presence.

So that's how your friends view you, pile 3. Hope you got something helpful out of this read—I can't wait to see you on my next one :]

Have a nice rest of your day, sweet pea! And stay your divine Chiron-ass self, tehe ✨

If you'd like to know more about how your friends view you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

[togrowoldinv]

Falling for Christmas

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you wake up from an accident, you don’t remember who you are. A local ski lodge owner helps you find yourself

Note: Yes, this is based on the very cheesy movie on Netflix with the same name. Some big plot differences, but cheesy all the same. Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Your life was perfect. You had everything you wanted. And everything you wanted came easy to you. So, why are you waking up now in a hospital bed so confused?  

The doctors try to calm you down, but you keep incessantly asking why you are here. It isn’t until a beautiful red headed woman walks in that anyone answers your question. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the woman says. “You just had an accident.”  

“What kind of accident?” You ask. You feel a pounding in your head. Undoubtably, you feel sure you have a concussion.  

“A skiing accident. At my lodge,” she says. She walks further into the room and asks the doctors and nurses to leave you be.  

“Thanks,” you remark.  

“No problem. I’m Natasha.” She holds out her hand for you to shake. You take it and feel a shock of electricity in your veins.  

“Hi Natasha. I'm- I- well-”  

“The doctors were worried you might have had some amnesia.”  

You shake your head and drop her hand. You have no idea who you are. The beautiful woman, Natasha, excuses herself to talk with the doctors again. They come in to tell you that you can stay here or go stay at her lodge until someone comes to claim you or you get your memories back.  

“No offense, but I don’t know you,” you say.  

“Well, you don’t know anyone,” Natasha counters. You want to make some snarky reply, but she keeps talking. “Maybe coming back to the lodge will spark some memories for you. We have plenty of extra rooms.”  

“That would be good for her. She needs to get into a routine doing normal things,” the doctor explains. “Natasha will take good care of you.”  

“Thanks, Monica,” Natasha says. The woman nods and leaves the room.  

After a couple of hours, you are discharged from the hospital. Natasha drives you to the lodge in an old truck. Part of you wants to ask for more details about this woman, but the other part of you is just ready to sleep and try to forget this is happening.  

“So, we’ll set you up here,” Natasha says, opening the door of a suite. “My sister stays here a lot when she’s in town and she’s picky, so this is the best room in the place.”  

You manage to smile at that. Natasha walks further into the room and you follow her around. She tells you she’ll bring you some clothes to wear and to call her if you need help with anything.  

You turn in for the night without much fuss. The next morning, you put on some of Natasha’s clothes and go to the lobby.  

“Good morning,” Natasha greets you. She is wearing a sweater that looks extremely cozy. You’re not sure why your brain thinks about how it would feel to hug her while she is wearing it.  

“Hey Nat,” you say. She smiles at the nickname. “Is there coffee?”  

“Oh, yes,” Nat chuckles. “Caffeine addict Clint over here couldn’t live without it.”  

“I’m Clint,” the man working the front desk tells you.  

“I’m-” you stop, still not sure what your name is. “Sorry.”  

“No worries,” Nat reassures you. “Let’s get you that coffee.”  

You follow her into the dining area, but she keeps walking to the kitchen. She enters with ease and greets several people on the way to the back.  

“Danvers, I need your best cup of coffee,” she tells a tall blonde woman. The woman grins. 

“Coming right up, Romanoff.” She turns around with a mug full of coffee that smells amazing. “Special guest?”  

“Something like that,” Nat replies. “This is Carol the head chef.”  

“Hi,” you say to her. Your eyes catch a pendant necklace resting against her skin. “I love that necklace.”  

“Oh, thank you. My wife got it for me when our daughter graduated medical school,” Carol explains. Her smile is the brightest one you’ve ever seen.  

Natasha takes you to the sitting room where a fire burns and there are walls of books.  

“I have to take care of some things, but you make yourself at home. Feel free to explore the lodge. We have horses around back and whatever you’d like to eat or drink is on us,” Natasha says.  

There’s a comfort you feel around her that you really can’t describe. But you’re sad to see her go. Though she walks by throughout the day, you feel like you didn’t get much of a chance to see her.  

Dinnertime comes and she finally gets a moment to stop. She plops down in the chair across from you and smirks at the way you fell asleep in the chair with a book open.  

“Hey,” she says gently trying to stir you awake. “Sleeping beauty, it’s dinnertime.”  

“That’s a good name for her,” Clint says. “Especially since you think she’s cute.”  

“What? I don’t- it’s not-”  

“You totally think that,” the newest member of the team, Kate, pipes in. “As you should though. She is beautiful. And hopefully single.”  

Nat raises her brow at the girl. “Should I tell Yelena about this exchange?”  

“Please don’t,” Kate says, her face going white.  

Everyone laughs at that and you stir awake. You're met with a smiling Natasha.  

“Hey there,” Nat says. “Join us for dinner?”  

You expect to go the dining room, but Natasha leads you to the next building over. She opens the door to reveal a Hallmark level decorated living room and kitchen.  

“This is where I stay when I’m at the lodge,” Nat explains.  

“You don’t stay here year-round?”  

“I have family in Ohio, so I spend some time there in the summer.”  

“Your sister?”  

“She actually spends time all over the world, but my parents live in Ohio. It's glamorous,” she jokes. “Carol made us some dinner.”  

“Aw man, I thought you would be cooking,” you tease her. 

“Oh, you do not want that,” she replies, throwing her head back laughing. You don’t remember, but you have a feeling you haven’t made anyone laugh like that lately.  

Dinner is going smoothly with small talk and Natasha telling you about the wildest things that have happened to her since running the lodge. But you’re interrupted at dessert time by a knock on the door.  

Nat excuses herself and opens the door to be met with three children tumbling through it.  

“What are you guys doing here?” Natasha asks excitedly. She hugs the older two kids and picks the youngest one up. “How is my namesake doing?”  

“So good, Auntie Nat!” The little boy says. You watch on with a smile, but something twinges in your gut at the sight of family. He catches your eye and points to you. “Who’s that?”  

“That is Auntie Nat’s new friend,” she explains. She tries to put the little boy down, but he hangs on tight. The girl, maybe a preteen, sticks close to her as well. “These are Clint’s kids. Cooper is the one too cool to be here, Lila is the best girl, and this guy here is Nathaniel.”  

“Hello,” you tell them.  

“Hi, sorry for interrupting dinner,” Lila says. She seems sweet.  

“No worries at all,” you say. “I think I'm going to head back to my suite.”  

“Oh,” Nat reacts. She puts Nate down after some protesting by the kid. “You don’t have to leave. They just only see me a few times a year, so they get excited when they do.”  

“That’s sweet,” you say. There is that twinge again. “I think- um- I think my brain is trying to process some stuff so I just-”  

“Need some space?” Nat asks.  

“Yeah. Thank you for today, Natasha. I had fun.”  

“Of course,” she says, helping you to the door. “Oh hey, if you hear anyone calling you Sleeping Beauty I might be to blame.”  

“I’m not even going to ask,” you joke. Natasha chuckles and you try to memorize the sound. 

The next few days go by without anything too exciting happening. You meet Carol’s wife Maria, Clint’s wife Laura, and even Natasha’s sister makes it into town. You really like Yelena.  

And you find yourself now sitting by the fire with all of them. Carol and Maria sit close together. Clint and Laura do the same, watching their kids play. Natasha sits by herself, but close to where Yelena and Kate are snuggling tentatively.  

“So, you don’t remember anything?” Maria asks you.  

“Not really,” you say. “I just get gut feelings. Like seeing you all with your families, I think I have family.”  

“I’m sure you do,” Laura says. “We’re your family in the meantime.”  

“Yeah. We are always here for each other,” Carol adds.  

“Speaking of,” Yelena starts. “How are you doing this holiday season, Natasha?”  

You figure she is referring to the lodge or maybe the busyness of the season, but when Natasha’s eyes drop you realize there is something more.  

“I’m good,” she says. No one believes her. Not even you. 

“Natasha,” Clint begins but he’s interrupted by Nat.  

“I just said I'm fine. Can we drop it?”  

She stands up and disappears into the kitchen. The group sighs and you look around confusedly. Something more is definitely up here. You excuse yourself and follow after Nat. You find her placing cookies on a tray.  

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask her. She wipes a silent tear from her cheek. “Sorry, obviously you are not. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t not okay all alone.”  

“That’s kind,” Nat replies. “I- it’s hard for me to talk about.”  

You nod. Although you don’t remember your life, you’re sure you have your own set of things that are hard to talk about.  

“You don’t have to talk about the sad parts,” you say. “But if there was any joy in there it is probably worth telling. Tragedy is only tragic because it was once beautiful.”  

“Poetic,” Nat teases. You smile at her. She feels comfortable. She takes a deep breath. “I was married. Very happily. And she- um- she got sick a few years ago.”  

“I’m so sorry,” you say, placing a hand on her shoulder.  

“She passed away last fall,” Nat says. “I actually didn’t even celebrate Christmas last year.”  

“That’s understandable.”  

“Yeah, but I realized it made my friends and family miserable too. So, I tried to be more festive this year. It wasn’t going that great until I met you, but now I feel like I have a reason to celebrate again,” Natasha explains.  

“Yeah?”  

“Yeah,” she says. “I know it sounds fucked up to be glad you ended up here with no memories, but-”  

“No, actually I am glad I did too. I’ve met so many wonderful people. Especially you.”  

You are standing close to each other now. Nat starts to lean in, but she stops a couple inches shy of your lips.  

“I don’t know if you are with someone, so if you are I don’t want to cross that line,” she explains.  

“Oh, yeah. No, I guess that makes sense,” you say.  

“We should get back out there.” 

The next few days are lighter on your heart. You spend time with all of the wonderful people you’ve met, and get geared up for a Christmas Eve party that the lodge always hosts. You help decorate, prepare food, and pick out clothes for everyone to wear.  

Walking into the room now you see Natasha standing by the bar. She looks breathtaking. She thinks the same about you.  

“Wow,” Nat says, approaching you with a grin. “You are beautiful.”  

“I can say the same about you, Natasha.” A blush hue finds its way onto her cheeks.  

“Looking good, SB,” Carol says, her arm interlocked with Maria’s.  

“Told you the nickname would catch on,” Nat says.  

The party is going well for a few hours until a man you don’t recognize, the doctor you do recognize, and a woman that seems strangely familiar enter the lodge.  

“Y/n!” The woman calls out to you.  

Everything clicks. Your name, your family, who you are. And your girlfriend.  

“Wanda,” you say.  

“She does remember!” Wanda says to the doctor. She pulls you into a hug. Funny, it doesn’t feel like it used to.  

“What’s happening?” Carol asks. “Monica, you know her?”  

“I do, Mom. These folks were looking for our Sleeping Beauty. I treated her at the hospital and knew I’d find her still here,” Monica explains.  

“We can go home now,” Wanda says, pulling your hand. “Pietro, get the car running.”  

“Wait, I'm sorry,” you say. “Natasha.”  

“Who?” Your girlfriend asks.  

“Hey,” the redhead steps into your view. “Y/n. That’s a good name.”  

“I guess so. Although, I liked being a princess.”  

“Ah, you’re still a princess,” Nat says. She looks at you with sadness in her eyes. “Go on now.”  

“Thank you for everything,” you tell her. And then turn to the group. “Thank you to all of you.”  

Wanda pulls you away before you can say any true goodbyes. You go with her and the three of you end up at the resort just down the road. Your parents own this, you remember.  

A few days pass, but you don’t feel that normal. Things felt better at Natasha’s lodge.  

She feels the same way. Things were better with you there. Clint comes in to find her slouched over the counter.  

“You should reach out to her,” Clint says. “ 

“She has a whole life,” Nat says. “Apparently a big one.”  

She had looked you up on Google and went on a deep dive of your social media presence. The daughter of hotel mogul, she felt sure you didn’t want her in your life. But, god, is she wrong.  

“Kind of breaking HIPAA here,” Carol eavesdrops and speaks. “But Monica told Maria y/n has another appointment before she leaves town.”  

“When did everyone decide to eavesdrop?” Nat asks.  

“When you fell in love with her,” Yelena replies, seemingly appearing out of thin air. “Go get her.”  

Natasha nods. She wants this. She drives across town and parks out in front of your dad’s resort not caring that her truck might get towed.  

“Y/n,” she calls after you, seeing part of you slipping into the elevator. She runs and slips in just before it closes.  

“Natasha?”  

“Hi,” she says. “I needed to see you.”  

“I’m listening.”  

“I couldn’t let you leave. Not when I’m falling in love with you,” she says. “And I know you have Wanda, but-”  

“Actually, we broke up,” you say.  

“Oh.”  

“Yeah, we never made any sense,” you explain. “Continue about the in love with me thing.”  

“Right,” Nat says. “Maybe I should just kiss you?”  

“That would be perfect.”  

Natasha takes your face in her hands and leans in. She wastes no time deepening the kiss and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you.  

“Come home with me, y/n?” Nat asks when you break the kiss.  

“I’d love to, Natasha.”