#a place in which the folk aint staring

[ifyougochasingrabbits]

TW: Saverly talk, burning skin mention. Feat: Vex

S'vexrha quietly watches the fireplace, a small flame occupying her own right hand that slowly shifts its fingers to let it dance between them. She seems stuck in her own thoughts, ears twitching faintly at any sound that may reach them even if she doesn’t quite seem to register them.

White had entered the house like she tended to do— opening the door far enough for her to slip inside without much noise. Keyword: much. She still made some, it wasn't like didn't head down the stairs with a bounce in her step which brought her right over to the railing across the landing. Leaning upon it she peered down at the woman, her smile curling into a smirk. "I thought fire was meant to stay in fireplaces."

S'vexrha balls her hand into a fist at the sudden voice, the flame which had shifted between her fingers springing to engulf her entire hand as she flinches, ears tilting backwards before her head finally turns to peer up towards White. "Well.. My flames prefer to not linger in the captivity of one."

White tilted her head this way and that, the plush ears above her head swaying along. "Why? It looks pretty cozy in there. If I were a flame I'd want to be in there too."

"Because captivity sucks." The words left S'vexrha as a mutter, yet loud enough to be heard. She lightly wafts her burning hand and unfurls it, letting the flame decrease in size to once again dance between her fingers.

White turned. Towards the next set of stairs she step, step, stepped on down placing a hand upon the railing's end she used to swing herself around! Facing her where Vex sat. Her destination. "That does sounds like it sucks. If you're not allowed to leave." Coming to a stop behind her she stared down. For once her neck got to tilt a different way. "So you play with fire and the icepick plays with ice. Is there another with wind? What about water? You could have a whole gang of elements!"

".. That's generally what captivity means, no?" Vex lofts a brow, uncertainty suddenly clinging to her before she shrugs lightly. She doesn't know for sure, it seems. ".. I -do- know one with wind. He aint here, though."

White lifted her gaze up thoughtful-like. "Some folks think they're captive." She blinked her gaze back down to Vex. "When they're not." It wandered to the mark on her face. "But. You really were?"

S'vexrha quietly watched White for a moment, keeping her head tilted back in order to do so. "I was." She finally confirms. "And now I'm not."

White watched her back, lifting a finger that tapped her own face right where the mark would be. She didn't say anything. The tapping was a loud enough question by itself.

S'vexrha exhales a sharp breath, crimson gaze narrowing into a squint. ".. Know it, do you?" She huffs.

White took a biiiig step around her, claiming the free space besides where she sat her arse down in a less-than graceful manner. More of a plopping. "I heard this group—" She waved her hand around gesturing at, well the entire place. "was. Is. Dealin' with them."

S'vexrha sank her head into a faint nod. "Sure. Dealing with 'em. Nicer way to put it." A small, amused curl takes to her lips, head tilting as she observes the Raen. "Slavers. I was marked by force."

White pressed splayed fingers against the flat of her chest. "I'm a nice lady~" Who knows if she was serious or not. She did, but would she share that nugget of know? No. "And they're mean folks. Givin' people tattoos without askin'." Leaning in she squinted like she was trying *really* hard to look at the mark. "You could add to it."

S'vexrha flashes a small, toothy grin White's way. "Sure. Real rude, snagging vulnerable strangers from wherever they find 'em to either force a mark on 'em or sell 'em to the highest bidder." Vex raises a hand, tapping at the red lines that sits beneath her eyes. "I take joy in this tiny difference from theirs."

White leaned back which really just made her sit normally. "Are those tattoos? When did you get them? Does it hurt? Havin' them put on your face. I bet it does. I wouldn't want any one my face." She cupped her own cheeks, giving them a small squish. "I'd have to put them around my scales! I don't know how others color them. It seems like it'd be hard. To do."

".. I'm not actually sure. I was busy trying to break free from their hold to really pay attention to what it was, and yes, it did hurt - like an absolute bitch." S'vexrha huffs, lightly prodding at her mark. "I was.. about ten cycles old, if I remember correctly."

White stared as she listened and listened as she stared at the prodding. "That young. Really young. I guess it's easier to knab a kid than an adult." Though she smiled, she never not smiled, her face scrunched up by the disgusted thought. "They're not too smart. Are they? Markin' themselves all up on their faces. Makes them easy to find. Unless they *want* to be found." She rambled on, half thinking outloud.

"Four when they snagged me, ten when I was marked." S'vexrha grimaces, ears pinning back just a touch before bouncing back up. "Some of 'em are smarter than I'd like 'em to be.. Don't really know why they do it, I do know some don't carry 'em though.. Fuckers that get sent to hunt down information, or spy on folks." She then pauses, offering a small shrug. "Grym probably considers himself untouchable, got Blades in his pockets that sweep his shite under the rug without a trace."

White's scrunched even more, narrowing her eyes under furrowed brows. Her entire face bounced back the mention of Grym come out of Vex's mouth as, "Not. All of them." came out of her's between a parted grin. "Besides! No one. Is untouchable. Those who think they are. They're goin' to have a very nasty awakenin' when they find that out." She laughed, kicking her feet in front of the fireplace. Ohhh, nice and warm! She leaned back against her hands, sitting there pretty damn content.

S'vexrha's head drops to the side, keeping a curious gaze upon White. "Think plenty of 'em already got one, we killed one of the highest ranking ones about six suns ago. Certainly someone they thought would never die. Least of all by my hands." She opts to fall flat on her back, raising her arms to cram her hands underneath her own head while shifting one leg atop of the other.

White kept her head forward, facing the fireplace she was enjoying. But her gaze. It slowly blinked over to Vex. "Did she tell you? That you can be tellin' me. These things? Icepick." Turning her head a a little, just a tiny in Vex's direction she lowered her voice into a whisper, clearing up she meant, "Bexy."

S'vexrha lofted a brow, glancing in White's direction. ".. No? I'm just.. talking, I guess. I can shut up about it if you prefer."

White let out an amused chuckle. "No! Nonononono~ Go on. You can do! If you want to." She paused. "It's. Trustin'. For you to share it. Don't you think?"

".. Is it?" Vex withdrew her hands from underneath her head and drove her elbows into the rug, halfly pushing herself up to look at White more properly. "Might not be the most normal life folks come across, but.. it's the one I've lived. I had my ability to speak restricted by 'em to be unable to get help, and now that that's gone I've voiced as much bullshit as possible that they do."

White focused mainly on her face. She tended to do that. It wasn't to say she wasn't keeping the rest of the person in mind— how they moved. Anything could be telling. She shifted her hands closer to her arse, shifting up a bit. After the words stopped coming out, she pushed any silence that tried to work its way in with her own, "I don't like slavers either." She slowly shook her head. "They should stick with other shite. Like. They could learn to bake! Then there's be *more* bakers. Which means *more* cake. Unless they just bake bread." She gasped, realizing, "There's bread with fruit in them. Have you ever had those? They're *really* good. You can slice them thick! And put a cream between. With even *more* fruit. Like rolanberries or peaches!"

"Half of 'em wouldn't have the patience to bake." S'vexrha snorts with amusement, letting her head tilt to the side and gaze lift towards the ceiling in thought. ".. Bread with fruit? No. Sounds fucking great, though."

White tossed her head up, shaking it. "Then we don't want them!" The shake turned into a nod, a quick one that turned into two, three, several more. "Yes! Bread with fruit." she parroted back. "It's really good. And refreshin'. Imagine!" Swinging an arm out in front of her she glided her hand through the air as if she was giving it a slow wipe down. "You're in Ul'dah durin' a hot day." Tilting her head toward her she mumbled. "So anyday." She straightened it back up. And you buy yourself one of those breads. Sliced up. Cool cream in the middle. You find yourself a place to sit. In the halls! Or near the fountain where you take. A. Bite!" She clapped her hands together, half-falling back against the floor. "It's sooooo refreshing!"

S'vexrha watched White with some amusement as she flopped onto her back, lips curled into a small grin. ".. Maybe I'll ask Bexy to get me some. Coin ain't.. particularly safe in my hands."

White Rabbit turned her head as far as her horns would let her, being nature's little kickstand but for Au Ra's heads. "It's not? Why? Do you spend it all?" She chuckled. "Would you buy all the bread?"

"Nope." S'vexrha huffs. "Slavers didn't exactly teach me shite other than how to fight."

White pushed her lips into a pout. One of those lopsided, dramatic ones. "When you know what should be priced what you'll be able to get things for even *cheaper*. You have the bite for it. But you don't want bite too hard. Just a nibble. Merchants don't wanna lose customers."

S'vexrha's shoulders drag into a small shrug, finally pushing herself back up to sit. "Bexy has offered to help me figure shit out, so.. All in due time, I suppose."

"She has? Has she. Isn't that so *very* nice. For her."

S'vexrha offers a small nod. "She and Sayuri both."

"That's the one with the white hair? Who makes this face?" White's brows lowered down and that smile evened out into almost a line. Almost. There was a slight curl to it, amused by her mimicry that stopped that serious look from being convincing.

S'vexrha laughs at White. "Change the rabbit ears into cat ears, then yeah, you'd be convincing enough."

White's lips parted, giving Vex a grin. "Does she ever smile? I don't think she does. I've never seen it. Not once! Unless she has. When I wasn't lookin'."

"She does! Quite a lot when she's with Eir. Bexy, too."

White sat up, gapsing. "Eir! The cookie man."

".. That's what you know him as?"

White nodded, sending those plush ears swaying about. More so jerking. She did nod quickly. "Yes! He made cookies for me. I asked him to. I was lookin' for someone who could, you see? The ginger kind that pop up during Starlight. But it wasn't Starlight. So the bakers didn't have any. Not the ones I talked to."

S'vexrha's brows shift into a clueless furrow, a prolonged stare resting atop of White. ".. Ginger cookies?"

"Ginger cookies." White gave a single nod. "You. Don't know what ginger cookies are?"

".. No?"

White opened her mouth in shock! Slapping her hands down between them, leaning in close, asking, "Not at all? Not one bit?"

"Not one bit."

"Someone in this little group doesn't know what a ginger cookie is? What it taste like? Now he has to find time to make them."

".. Look. I hadn't had a proper piece of meat, or fruit, since I was too little to bloody remember it. I'm discovering food now. And it's fucking delicious."

White's gaze lit up. "Cake. Have you had cake yet?"

".. I've had rolanberry tart. Does that count?"

White shook her head. "No! That's a tart. Not a cake. You have to try a cake. Tell that silly icepick to get you a rolanberry one. Or. Do you have a fruit you like? Do you like rolanberries?"

".. Well fair." Vex flashes a small grin. "I do like rolanberries. Haven't found anything I dislike yet." She cants her head, humming briefly in thought. ".. I tried some that Bexy got from the markets in Ul'dah, but.. I don't remember what they're called." A brief pause lingers, before Vex grimaces. "... There was a fruit that you needed to peel, which I found out after I had bitten it. That's the only thing that tasted awful, but after getting that taste out of my mouth and the fruit peeled, it was nice."

White kept her mouth shut, letting Vex talk. A brow listed at the mention of the fruit. How she had to peel it. Apples you could, but you didn't have to. The same went with peaches, but there were a lot who didn't like the skin. "Was it. An orange?"

".. It was orange." Vex sinks her head into a nod, clearly meaning the colour rather than the name - because Vex doesn't realise that the colour is the name.

White paused. "An. Orange." Wait— "Oranges are orange!"

S'vexrha makes a straight face at you.

White stared back, smiling.

S'vexrha's ears drop down flatly, eyes narrowing into a squint.

White Rabbit squinted back, asking, "What?"

"... Is-.. the fruit... named the same as the colour..?"

White nodded. "Yes! It is. And no. I don't know why they named it after the color. It'd silly, isn't it? So very ridiculous. So funny. They could have come up with somethin' fancy!"

S'vexrha's brows furrow further, ears remaining flat. ".. Well that's fucking confusing."

White could help herself from laughing, but she didn't. "It is! It'd be even more confusing if oranges weren't orange. Could you imagine?"

S'vexrha's features sink into a frown of utter disapproval at the mere suggestion. ".. I'd set whoever made that choice on fire."

"Would that make them orange?"

"Sure. You ask, let me know the answer." S'vexrha beams with delight at you.

"You could come along too!"

".. You know what, sure."

White beamed brightly! Her lips pulled wide into a smile. "Good! Thats great. I bet we'd be able to find someone. Maybe a one of those fighter out in the sands." She pondered about that. "Or an adventurer. They cook things on open fires. One of them has to like burnt food. Burnt meat! That'd be the easiest way to make it."

".. Still fucking weird, but yeah."

"I heard its not good for you."

".. I wouldn't know, but just the thought of the taste knowing how it can smell.." Vex grimaces in visible disgust.

"Vegetables smell better burnt than meat." At least to White. "I'd rather smell not either of them. If I have the choice to. Not to. Smell them."

".. I think I still have the smell of burning flesh in my nose because that's all I can think of. Can't say I've smelled a burning vegetable."

White looked to Vex's hand. "You could burn one. Then you'll think of burnin' vegetables! Or you could burn an orange." White, what the fu—

"... I think I'd rather eat the-- orange." Vex mutters the last bit, still unhappy about the naming of the fruit. ".. Maybe I'll find a carrot to burn, or something."

White tossed her gaze over her shoulder. She spied with her little eye... the kitchen! "Would. There be any. Back there?"

"-- Maybe not the company's supplies. I.. aint one of 'em. Yet. Possibly."

White picked herself up off the floor, making her way over to check. "We can leave a coin. Or two." She leaned on the bar counter, peering squintily into the kitchen to see if she could spot any carrots out in the open.

S'vexrha heaves herself up on her feet, huffing faintly as she slowly but surely follows White.

White pointed at the shelves holding bins of vegetables. "Look! Carrots!" Could she have used the little swinging doors to get to the other side? Yes. Did she? No. She pushed herself up, hosting herself over onto the other side. "I'd be surprised. I'm pretty sure I heard someone talkin' about making soup. A lot of them have carrots. Unless they were out."

S'vexrha leans against the counter, peering over it at White and the assortment of vegetables.

White plucked a carrot from the bunch, walking over to Vex, holding the orange vegetable triumphantly in her hand out in front of her. "Got one!"

".. So you do."

White placed a hand on the counter, pushing herself up, giving herself more reach to hold the carrot closer. "Light it! Like a candle!" She wiggled the poor thing, its tip pointed towards the ceiling.

S'vexrha's shoulders draw into a shrug before she leans closer and hovers a hand close to the carrot. A quick flame is produced by the mere snap of her fingers, which she moves to attempt to settle atop the carrot's tip.

White watched, and watched, then watched some more to see it do... a whole lot of nothing at first. Right. Carrots were moist. She held it there longer. "People grill them."

S'vexrha huffs, a small pout settling on her lips as she's quite clearly disappointed by the lack of a burning carrot. She wafts her hand aside to let the flame die out, giving the carrot a judgemental stare.

White stared at the carrot too. At its tip that did darken, but not by much. It definitely didn't catch fire. "Try it again!" She said with a hop, heading around to the little swinging doors, hip-checking one open to free herself from the kitchen to make her way to the tables where she sat. "Come on! It takes a while!"

S'vexrha spins on her heels to take a faint step closer to the bench. She seats herself and promptly pulls up her legs to fold them underneath herself, because Vex still hasn't learned how you're meant to sit on a bench. She extends her hand anew, wiggling her fingers to let a new flame spark forth, the burning finger reaching to settle against the carrot's tip.

White held the carrot, resting her hand against the table. "How'd you learn it? To do that?" Her other hand gestured at the fire that she totally believed could burn the carrot. It just had to get rid of some of the moisture!

".. Uh. Born with it, kinda. My aether was weird as shit when I was born, fire is all I can do. Similarly to Bexy and Sayuri with their ice, I suppose." S'vexrha's finger remains pressed against the carrot, the flame flickering faintly.

White looked from the poor carrot to Vex's face she made a notte note. "Miss serious-face uses ice too? Only ice?"

"Yup."

"And nothin' else."

"Nope."

White hummed a curious little 'hmmm'. "I thought. If you use only fire. You'll burn yourself up." She had hopped back to Vex being the topic.

".. Haven't been burned so far, no matter how much I've poked at fire."

White shook her head. "Not your skin. I don't think your skin. Your aether!"

S'vexrha cants her head curiously, peering at White. ".. What do you mean?"

White Rabbit took a moment to think of how to explain it. She didn't fully get it herself. "I heard. If you're not careful you'll burn. From the inside out."

S'vexrha pauses, considering her words for a moment. "... Yeah, probably possible. I got a good grip of my power, though.. So hopefully, it won't murder me."

White shrugged. "I don't play with fire." Except now, turning her head to— "Sssow!" Moisture released from the top of the carrot cracked open from the heat had dripped down onto her hand, making her drop it. Luckily for them, it landed on the floor and *not* the flammable table. If it would even be hot even make it happen. She stared at it and the bit of black colored the tip. "It burned!" Ish.

S'vexrha swiftly balls her hand into a fist to choke the flame, killing it as the carrot is dropped. She squints at the carrot, flashing a grin wider than it needs to be. "Hah!"

White pointed at it, looking to Vex. "Can you smell it?" Poking her head under the table she picked it up by its end, watching for where the carrot juice? Water? Had dripped. She held it toward the woman.

S'vexrha eyed the burned vegetable curiously, nose twitching as she sniffs twice. ".. Well it smells better than burning flesh, that's for sure."

White handed the sorta-but-not-really burnt carrot to her. "Keep smellin' this! And maybe— just maybe you'll forget the flesh." She wiggled it. "Who burns carrots anyways?"

S'vexrha reached over to grasp the carrot, peering at it. ".. We do, apparently."

White nodded several times over, letting go of the carrot. "We do! Er, you did. I held it! Which has a lot less burning involved." She looked to her hand. The slight pink mark. "I'd say if it didn't. Burn. My hand." The universe really needed to leave her hands alone.

".. I do. You were an accomplice." S'vexrha flashes a small grin, peering towards White's hand. "Should heal quickly."

White wiggled her fingers, flipping her hand this way and that. "I've had worse." she replied as if she hadn't had a blade shoved through it. An ice one. She was still a little upset about that. Looking back at the bar like before this time she was thinking of leaving something instead of taking it. "One coin should do." So she wouldn't be accused of stealing. It was bought!

S'vexrha is blissfully unaware of the icy blade that had once impaled White's hand. ".. Probably? I don't know."

White would have liked to be blissfully unaware too. She got up from the bench and headed to the bar, reaching between her cleavage to fish out a small pouch because who in their right mind would shove their hand down someone's shirt to pickpocket them? From inside she plucked a single, one gil coin she decided to leave where she had taken the carrow. The message would come across, right?

S'vexrha idly twirls the carrot in her hands, head tilted and attention resting upon White.

White set the coin down, 'buying' the single carrot for a single coin. A good trade in her mind. She quickly returned next to Vex, skipping from where she was to there next to where she sat. "Now they can't say we stole it!"

S'vexrha flashes a grin, releasing the carrot with one hand to instead form a thumbsup. "All debts repaid."

White bent at the waist, leaning forward a little as she grinned back. "As they should be~" She straightened herself up, looking to the stairs. "As much as I'd like to burn another. For extra testin'. Travelin' at night isn't the best. Isn't it?"

"Oh, I'll just throw this one into the fireplace and observe." Vex waves the carrot, grinning. "Nope, it aint."

White side-stepped towards the stairs, hands clasped behind her. "You'll tell me what happens. Won't you? You could taste it too." If she could only see her face if she did.

"Of course." S'vexrha then pauses, grimacing. ".. I'll pass on the tasting, though."

White being the dramatic little woman she was swung her arms out from behind her, giving a bow, "You're loss." For what, a charcoal-covered tongue? She stood up, wiggling her fingers in farewell. "I'll see you. And then you can me all about it."

S'vexrha raises a hand to offer a two-finger salute. "Take care."

Seeing that White smiled, turning with a little bounce that followed her step all the way upstairs. "Tell the icepick I'll see her too! Soon~" she called back, voice slowly fading before the last sound made was the door closing behind her.

[crastlefolke]

here's a quick fic about the southlands folk having a discussion because i think the idea of them shouting at each other from their cobblestone towers and looking through telescopes is hilarious.

"Right. Is everyone here?"

"AHA!" a figure waved enthusiastically from one of the cobblestone towers "Mahartyn here, reporting for duty!"

"AHA! Hey Mumbo!" Impulse was sitting on the roof of his tower, peering at him through the telescope. "Where are the others?"

Mumbo turned the spyglass towards the two vacant cobblestone towers "Not here yet from the looks of it"

"Poor punctuahality from them." Martyn quipped, "truly a trahavisty."

"Honestly," joked Impulse, "You'd think they'd know better than to be late to the parrrrty"

Mumbo racked his brains for a pun but before he could come up with anything twin "AHA"s echoed from the other towers.

"We're here!" Jimmy yelled "We made it, you can start now."

"Yeah mumbo you can stahart now." Grian appeared at the window, spyglass in hand.

"Right! Well, everyone, I've gathered you al-"

"You've what sorry?"

"Gahathered us have you?"

"GA-HAAAR-THERED"

Shouts of laughter echoed around the cobblestone semicircle. After the giggling subsided, Mumbo gently tapped his spyglass against the bell he'd placed at the top of his aerial.

"If we could stay on tra- on topic" he continued, "I'd like to talk to you all about what we're going to do with our lives"

"Wow. Intense." Martyn said in mock horror.

"Yeah man I didn't realise your master plan was trying to incite a midlife crisis."

"His marrrrster plan you might say"

"Yeah guys- haha- guys-" Mumbo looked around helplessly

"GUYS" Jimmy's voice cut everyone off, "give the new guy a chance."

"Right. Thanks." Mumbo gathered himself. "As I said, we need to talk about lives. More specifically, the amount we have and how we can use them strategically."

"You and me have the most" Martyn chimed in, "but there's not much difference between the five of us really."

"I'm actually thinking about the life pool."

"The what?"

"The life pool" Mumbo paused, trying to organise his explanation "Previously, you all had your own amount of lives, correct?" There were murmurs of confirmation from the other towers as he continued, "But this time you can give lives meaning that as well as your own life count, we have to think of the collective life count. That is, how many lives we have combined."

Blank faces stared back at him.

Mumbo got out a bit of paper and held it up. Four telescopes immediately zoned in on it. "Right. I have 4 lives, Martyn also has 4 lives, Impulse has 3 lives, and Jimmy and Grian have two. Between us we have 15 lives, and because we're on the same team, it doesn't matter so much who has the lives because they're all our lives, if that makes sense."

"You mean like, we share out our lives?" Martyn said, squinting at Mumbo's messy scrawl. "What would be the point?"

Mumbo looked around the semicircle "Who here is good at pvp? I'm certainly not."

"Not me either." Jimmy added. "I'm staying far away from fights this time."

Grian chuckled "I wouldn't exactly call my last fight a success,"

"I'm not terrible," Martyn said slowly, "but I don't see what this has to do with lives?"

"Right now? Nothing, unless we really want to make enemies. But later, if, say, we wanted someone removed, we could hand over all but our red lives to one person-"

"-making us a four man army," Jimmy finished, "with all but one of us allowed to kill someone

"Exactly. None of us specialise in pvp. If we want to get the edge in a fight, we'll have to use numbers. Strategically divvy up lives and save as many as possible by keeping the person with the rest of the lives away from the fighting."

Mumbo felt four telescopes immediately lock onto him.

"Awfully convenient that you're the worst fighter here," Martyn remarked.

"Yeah, almost like you want to get a hold of all our lives and run off" Impulse said casually.

Turning even paler than usual, Mumbo tried desperately to explain himself only for a chorus of laughter cut him off.

"Don't worry mate, we're just messing around"

"Yeah we don't actually betray each other until we're six or seven weeks in-"

"Grian! That's not helping."

"Seriously though," Jimmy said earnestly "It's a good plan. It might take a while cos transferring lives aint exactly quick but once we're mostly yellow, if four of us suddenly turned red in front of someone... we'd be pretty menacing."

"Thank you, Jimmy," Mumbo looked at him gratefully. Jimmy gave him a thumbs up.

"Alright," Martyn considered "I'm down to be pretty menahacing- sorry, sorry, I know. You two?"

"I'm in"

"Ahagreed" Grian smirked, "But we should probably discuss the specifics of our plan in a manner which doesn't involve literally yelling it from rooftops."

[kozutenshi]

Sugawara cleared his throat as he sat in front of you. The library was peacefully quiet except for the occasional footsteps and the sound of the keys of the keyboard being pressed. Taking his notes out, he greeted a soft "good morning" to you as he smiled.

You smiled at him back and returned his greeting before focusing down on your own notes. At least, trying to.

His eyes scanned through his notes, if possible, all too graceful. The highlighted words caught your eyes, all uniform in a pastel green. His notes were organized, at least from what you see.

The best thing is, you need them.

"Your notes are pretty." He looked up to find you staring at his notes curiously, before handing one of his notebooks to you. "Don't kid me, y/n. You need notes on English, don't you?" You only chuckled at his implication, not even trying to deny it. "Thank you Koushi! I'll return it later?"

Your chuckle rang through his mind, a fond look making its way to his face before smiling brightly. "No problem n/n."

MANANG BIDAY

— An Ilocano folk song written around the Spanish Period passed down orally through the different ages.

— The song is about a courtship tradition called harana, serenade in English. The courting man can go alone or with company to support him. He will have to not only court the partner they want but also the whole family.

— The song is sung by the man who is courting their beloved, telling the lady named Biday to look out from her window. The lady responds back, and the song is somewhat lika poetic, musical conversation.

— Though harana isn't popular nowadays, Manang Biday is still sung and learned by students along with other folk songs.

NOTE: Song featured is when you're ready by shawn mendes!

"This is rather awkward."

Sugawara had his arms wrapped around you as his teammates gawked or stared blankly, dumbfounded at the sight of you. Though it may look like an innocent hug, it was surprising. Not only that, but, the fact that Sugawara had recovered over his daze faster than them, showing you off to them as his girlfriend.

Even your face warmed up as he met your eyes and felt his fingers intertwine with yours. Hinata jumped happily, Tsukishima wincing at the ray of sunshine's gesture.

Too bright for him.

Asahi and Daichi congratulated the two of you with soft smiles as Nishinoya dragged your boyfriend towards Tanaka and Hinata's direction.

"How did it happen, Y/N-senpai?" Yachi curiously asked you, a slight blush on her cheeks. Recalling what had happened, it made you chuckle in both happiness and embarrassment.

Their footsteps were muffled by the grass as he finds himself in your front yard with his juniors. Shifting nervously he hummed to calm his nerves. "Alright. Let's do it."

"Maybe I had too many drinks, but that's just what i needed."

With Tsukishima on the guitar and Yamaguchi on the beats, Sugawara felt like all of their secret practices paid off as they played their instruments wonderfully.

Open the damned window, he thought as he sang.

"Don't know why i tried, cause aint nobody like you. Familiar disappointment every single time I do."

The song came to you muffled by your closed window, the chill seeping through the cracks slightly.

"Baby tell me when you're ready, I'm waiting."

You opened your window hurriedly as he smiled up at you, happy that you finally opened your window. Your family gathered in the living room as they hurriedly and giddily witnessed the man serenade you, his sweet smile enchanting them easily.

Whirling towards you, your friends who were over for a study session dragged you downstairs as they cheered at you, telling you to "go for it" and "approach him!" as they reacted to every slight movement as "cute!" or even, "ah, young love."

The man only smiled bigger as he sees you at the front door standing. The chill was starting to seep through your clothes but you didn't care. Your focus was only towards the man with his lovely voice, as if coaxing you to look at him with the lines on his mouth beautifully falling. His eyes never left yours, making your face warm up with the attention he's giving.

The evening complimented him, the soft lights making his gray hair shine metallically. His eyes looked even softer, even warmer. They reminded you of the warm summer's morning rays, something out of place but perfectly needed against the chill of the night. Everything about him made you swoon.

He looked perfect.

"And if I have to, I'll wait forever."

He started walking towards your direction, only to stop singing as he introduced himself to your family. This made them excited, all too happy even, as they encouraged him to finish the song.

"Yeah you know that we fit together," he sang as he took your hand. "I know your heart like the back of my hand."

Solely singing to you now, the acoustics accompanied the wispiness of his voice, creating an enchanting vibe. The man only squeezed your hand before kissing its knuckles as he finished the song.

"Even ten years from now, if you haven't found somebody I promise i'll be around. Tell me when you're ready, I'm waiting, I'm waiting."

He said his goodbyes as you tried to take in what he had done. A serenade in front of your family, not just small flirtations and random visits. Your mind was racing, trying to think of something to explain it, but the only thing on your mind was one valid reason:

He was serious.

"Chase him!" Your family insisted as they pushed you towards their retreating figures.

Sugawara only smiled at his juniors who looked at him curiously questions in their eyes.

"Why did you do it?" "Why didn't you wait for their answer?" "Don't you think it would be better if we stayed?" Their eyes seemed to say this questions, but the only thing he gave them is a 'thank you'. The juniors didn't question their senior, opting to find their way to their own houses as they bid their goodbyes at the fork on the road.

"Koushi!" Your voice made his eyes widen, the duo that was with him stopping at a good distance to watch the scene. You caught sight of his gray turned silver hair under the streetlight, the coldness of the wind making you regret not bringing a jacket in a hurry. You slowed down as you got closer to him before wordlessly pecking his cheek. Blush dusted his face, visible even in the dark. "Y/n-" you cut him off through leaning on his shoulder sheepishly, embarrassment flooding your senses.

Admitting feelings never really got easy.

"I like you too." Sugawara relaxed as he hears your words, releasing a breath of relief. "I like you too, Koushi," you repeated. Your heartbeat pounded fast as he puts a hand on your shoulder, detaching you from him. You were confused, before he pressed a kiss on your forehead, taking you in his arms properly.

Warmth flooded your veins, and you were right; he felt like a home in a summer morning. Comforting and cozy. His heart likewise was loud as you listened to its beats.

"Then, we kind of just.. got together." Yachi's eyes, along with Noya, Hinata and Tanaka, sparkled in happiness. The two of you had told the same story, only in both your perspectives, but hearing the roar of the boys made you laugh as Sugawara sheepishly smiled at you.

Yachi strayed back to her duties as a club manager as you found yourself sitting with Sugawara on the floor. The two of you watched Tanaka approach Kiyoko saying, "If I serenade you, will you marry me?" which Kiyoko gave a firm no to. Sharing laughter, you leaned on Sugawara as he presses a small kiss on your temple, before helping Daichi put the team in order.

TRAVELLERS: @akasuns @doodleniella @kenmaki @lyzzklm @mfcassandra @oikaw-ugh @seijohlogy @thesecondapplepienation

[thiswasinevitableid]

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent. 

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth. 

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship. 

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style. 

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling. 

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare. 

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling. 

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed. 

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined. 

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly. 

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

------------------------------------------------------

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw. 

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ‘dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking. 

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper,  covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town. 

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up. 

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-”  He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.”

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone. 

------------------------------------------

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch. 

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

----------------------------------------------

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep. 

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise. 

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold. 

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.” 

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her. 

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno. 

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air. 

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

---------------------------------------------------

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best. 

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling. 

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing. 

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards. 

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates. 

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company. 

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously  registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.” 

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame. 

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider. 

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs. 

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee. 

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck” 

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right. 

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body. 

“More, please, god that all feels so good.” 

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes. 

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans. 

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back. 

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass. 

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back. 

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

----------------------------------------

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door. 

[katsukikitten]

Bakugoxreader is a USA transfer. Shes really sweet but doesn’t put up with bakugos shit. He tolerates her because she puts up a good fight and low key thinks her accent is adorable. one day their class has a tea and shes bummed because she likes iced sweet tea. Everyone thinks that’s weird but later that night Bakugo shows up with a pitcher and a little embarrassed because he doesn’t know if he used enough sugar. Then she jokes about in the south sugar could also mean kissing. And then they do.

Sun Tea

A/N Hopefully this is close to what you had in mind lovey! Enjoy! Thank you for your patience while I wrote this!

Three sets of eyes stare down at the pile of cards atop the circular coffee table, each of you sitting cross legged while a few of your other class mates sit among the couches.

"Draw six Y/N." Kirishima wears a rare devilish smile as he places down a yellow draw two card atop two other hellish cards.

You return his smile holding eye contact with Bakugou as you dramatically produce a red draw two.

"Bless your heart Bakugou doll, you've gotta draw eight." You take much satisfaction in placing down the card that will screw him over.

A little too much actually, it's not very hospitable of you to enjoy another's misfortune.

It all boils down to when you were first transferred here, mostly against your will, from America Bakugou hated you with every fiber in his being.

And you hated him in return, which was quite unlike you.

But he had aired all your dirty laundry about your delinquent behavior that you had done in America.

What he didn't know was you had to do those things to survive.

You absentmindedly brush against the tattoo on your neck and two sets of red eyes follow.

Believe it or not he was beginning to see that now.

Could really see how much that lifestyle was thrust upon you.

"This is a stupid fucking game! Why'd I let you talk me into playing hair for brains!?" Bakugou snarls, snatching at the deck on the table counting out eight muttering fuck you beneath his breath.

Kirishima laughs in response as he places down a red eight, Deku places down a red six before you place down a skip.

"You're fucking working together huh?" He snarls darkly and you laugh.

"Ain't his fault you're as lucky as a June bug in November." Your laugh echoes in the room. Pulling at the ash blonde's stomach. Although he doesn't know what the hell you're saying he knows that your voice is just too God Damn cute. You notice the dusting of red on his cheeks and chalk it up to his temper.

To which he adds validity to your assumption by adding harshly.

"What in the fuck are you saying?"

It's a question you hear often.

"I believe she means you're not lucky at all." Todoroki chimes in, heterochromatic eyes peering over his book. Momo nods in agreement as she writes down the expression as she has been these past few months, every now and again she'll try to use the English expression in everyday conversation to you.

And honestly you don't have the heart to tell her that not ALL Americans will understand what she's saying.

You pray to the good Lord that she'll run into another decent Southern belle who would get a lick of what she's saying.

Kirishima takes sympathy and places down a reverse for his friend.

Bakugou smiles from ear to ear and plops down an angry looking black card.

"Draw four bitch." He snarls close to your ear and you narrow your eyes. You draw a blue zero, a red two, a green six and the very card that first scorned you.

A draw four that may be your saving grace.

"Don't be gettin too big for ya britches now Suki, Im fixin ta win." You drawl out real heavy because you're excited and again Bakugou's cheeks begin to heat.

You smirk a deadly smile to him that he returns ten fold.

His smile sends your stomach into a tizzy and you try to talk yourself from the edge.

The two of you had just gotten over absolutely loathing each other and transitioned into hard frienemies.

So why the hell were you fighting off a crush?!

It was bound to happen since Aizawa paired the two of you together and only because Bakugou had the highest score in English.

But damn if you weren't hard to understand sometimes. It was like you weren't even speaking English!

At least not the english Bakugou was taught.

Depsite your past, time showed those harsh scarlet eyes that you weren't a total lost cause, an extra undeserving of a second look.

You more than proved you were a worthy rival and it all came after the phrase.

*"Oh I'm finna kick ya ass to high heaven."*

He has never seen you so flustered before and damn did you keep good to your word.

Forcing him to actually try against you. Never admitting that he enjoyed that part of you.

Narrowed eyes, flushed cheeks and pouty lips pulled past white teeth looking "madder than a wet hen."

Or whatever the hell it was you said.

He just hadn't known he would enjoy that odd ass twang you had too.

But you'll never know that it wasn't really Kirishima who convinced Bakugou to play this stupid idiotic game.

No, it was you, when you wore that devilish smirk before adding

*"Guess you're too scared you'll lose!"*

Katsuki sat down and actually dealt the cards himself then.

"Does anyone want tea?" Mina asks, peeking out from the kitchen.

"Please dahling!" You shout and she smiles your way before making her way back to that amazing smelling dinner.

You have two cards left in your hand, you feel lucky but at the same time you're relying on Bakugou to set down a card that will benefit you.

Please God let it be either a blue card or a zero.

You really didn't want to have to use your ace in the hole or have to draw.

Bakugou places down a red reverse causing Kirishima to draw a few cards before he slaps down a red eight.

"Oi Deku. Make yourself useful. Y/N only has two cards." Bakugou snarls, Izuku gulps avoiding eye contact.

He looks over his cards with nervous eyes muttering to himself with each passing second Bakugou gets that much more agitated.

"OI! PUT DOWN A CARD!" He yells and Deku does hastily.

And the Uno Gods have blessed you as a red zero stares lovingly up at you.

"Its about to go to hell in a hand basket for y'all! Uno!" You exclaim as you place down your card, switching it to blue.

"What?!" Kirishima laughs while Bakugou snarls.

"Means you're about to have a bad time." This time Todoroki doesnt even bother to look up from his book. He flips the page and Momo flips through her own notes.

She must spy the phrase and puts a tally by it. She figures the more times you've said it the more common the idiom.

Little does she know there are some phrases in their you'll most likely never utter again having been quick witted when you made the Southernism on the fly

"How the hell do you know what she's saying?" Denki asks looking up from his switch, trying hard not to move as Jhiro naps on him. Dead to the world with her head phones plugged in.

Todoroki shrugs flipping another page before he eyes the game.

Bakugou sucks his teeth, he doesnt have anything to use against you, you clearly don't even go after him.

And to make things worse he doesn't even have fucking blue or a damned zero. He draws seven cards before blue shows up. He places the blue nine down harshly, Kirishima places a green nine over top of it and all eyes fly to Deku.

Who again begins to murmur and mutter as he thinks of his next move.

All the while your smile grows wider and wider.

There isn't much of a card out there that could stop you.

Deku hesitantly lies down a red nine hoping that changing the color so rapidly would cause you anxiety.

When he see that it doesn't he begins to watch in horror as you place down that little black cars with the +4 in the corner.

"No..." He gasps.

"NO!!" Bakugou shouts slamming his fists agaisnt the table, "Rematch!"

"What's the with all the fuss?" Mina asks carrying a large tray of drinks. She makes her way around the room setting down a scalding cup to each person.

"Y/N won and Bakugou's mad." Kirishima explains kissing Mina's cheek and tapping his lap, "Thanks babe."

She sits cozily picking up her cup.

The whole class, aside from yourself and napping Jhiro seem to take a sip of the tea in unison.

Everyone holds the cup just in front of their chest as a smile spreads on their face.

Even Bakugou looks joyful and you look to the steaming liquid in the gray cup before you.

Heavily missing your favorite sweating Mason jar clinking with ice as you watched summer storms a brew.

Scarlet eyes notice how your drink goes untouched, he nudges you harshly before shouting.

"Oi!" He hates the long face you wear, "Drink it before it gets cold."

"I uh... I keep forgettin the tea aint iced or sweetened here." You say sheepishly keeping your eyes down, "Thank you Mina."

"What? Iced? Sweet?" Bakugou sounds baffled as he tried to understand.

Tea was fucking tea. It didn't need ice and it didn't need sugar.

"Yea! It's a staple in the Southern states. Can't throw a rock where it ain't served." Your face brightens as you speak, that drawl even heavier, "And sweet enough to rot your teeth!"

"Why?" Bakugou asks borderline nasty while you have the attention of everyone in the room.

"You see it gets hotter than Hell in the South, humid enough to make ya melt faster than Frosty in July. So sweet tea keeps ya sane. It's cool and of course sweet, keeps us southern folk from being bitter about how hot it is." You stare into the liquid in the cup, almost imagining it to be different.

"Oh! And if it's hot enough in the summer, which it always was where I was from, yall can make sun tea."

"Alright you're making shit up now." Bakugou shakes his head before taking another sip. He closes his eyes when he sees that his comment has struck something in you.

Your face flashes from angry to almost hurt.

"I used to make the best sun tea every summer." You say longfuly before adding, "Anyway I'm tired. Imma head to bed."

"But dinner is soon!" Kirishima and Mina express their worry in unison.

You smile to mask your hurt. Although it was extremely hard for you in America there were somethings you missed greatly.

Sweet sun tea was one of 'em.

You could take the girl out of the South but not the South out of the girl.

"I'll be fine. I'm full as a tic from that late lunch. I'll see y'all when the roasters sing." You wave as you head towards the stairs.

All the while crimson red eyes bore into you.

Before the bore into space through dinner and now into the ceiling as he lies in bed.

Why did you look like that?

Where you that upset?

Had his comment been too far?

Were you madder than that stupid wet hen you kept mentioning?

No, he knew you weren't mad he knew you were feeling "blue" and that he needed to some how make you "right as rain."

That's how you said it right?

He snarls as he snatches up his phone looking up this and that before settling on doing the ultimate thing for you.

He bares his teeth when he sees JUST how long this will take and that he may have to move it depending on the sun.

But he rises early from bed anyway and gets all of the things needed for what he's fixing.

Soon the morning melts into night and Bakugou was lucky that it was in the dead of summer.

Katuski notices that you announce that you're going to"hit the hay" sooner than you normally do when you're not feeling yourself.

Nervousness begins to escape him through beads of sweat on his brow as begins the finishing touches.

You lie on your bed, scrolling through the old photos on your Insta. Longing for those flashes of lightning, corn fields brightened by the moon's light and those old winding backroads.

You open your window to let the warm air in, at least Japan and the south had one thing in common.

Even the bugs would scream late into the night about how hot the day was.

You lie back again, sighing as you scroll, longing for those times once more.

You missed the stars, you missed the barn cats, the hens, the long trips to the beach.

You scroll down a bit further and spy a picture that brings tears to your eyes.

"You're dumber than a box of rocks Y/N pull it together!" You whisper to yourself as you wipe your eyes.

It was only a photo of a large glass container absorbing all of that summer sun and a wide mouth quart mason jar filled with ice.

Ready to be filled.

Still tears fall and for the first time you cry.

Cry for the lost memories.

The lost time and most importantly your lost childhood.

That place took everything from you, forced you to the cities to sell and steal.

But here you were crying like a baby over some tea and the moon.

A harsh knock comes at your door that has your heart in your throat.

You toss your phone as if you were looking as something bad before clearing your throat.

"Coming honey. Gimme a sec I ain't decent." You say, not really lying as you look yourself over in the mirror.

It really wasn't decent for a Southern Belle to cry over some spilt sweet tea.

You open the door to be met with burning scarlet eyes.

"Honey really?" He asks with a smirk.

"Had I know it would have been you that the cat dragged in I would have said vinegar instead." You cross your arms, far from in the mood to deal with Bakugou of all people.

He gives you a pointed look, half knowing what you mean before he sighs heavily.

"I've got something for you now sit down and close your damn eyes." He snarls and you look at him suspiciously.

"Last time you 'had' something for me we scrapped with our fists." He rolls his eyes and gently guides you into your room. He ushers you to sit on your bed making his way back to the hall.

"No peeking damn it!" He growls. Now it is your turn to roll those gorgeous eyes before you close them with an exasperated sigh.

What in Sam's hell was he up to?

You hear an odd sound of clinking before he kicks your door shut.

A long silence stretches between the two of you before courage returns to Bakugou.

Something cool is pressed against your palm and you grab onto it quickly letting your eyes flutter open.

When you spy a mason jar filled with ice and sloshing tan liquid you squeal as if it were a wedding ring. Your reaction alarms Bakugou before he sees the smile forming on your kissable lips.

He swallows his hot desire as you jump up and down on the bed.

He swallows his hot desire as you jump up and down on the bed.

"Is this what I think it is?!" You bring the jar to your lips and taste.

Your body relaxes and your head tilts back, eyes fluttering as it brings a rush of memories.

How did he get the tea to sugar ratio so...so fucking perfect.

You dare not ask who made this tea because it was made right.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you take in all of the context clues.

Bakugou had been going outside every hour or so today. Making some sort of excuse not to leave the dorms today.

Then he holed himself up in the kitchen just before you had turned in for the night.

Lastly his cheeks were red, burning hot and it finally dawns on you that it isn't from his temper.

But from something else.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Is...is that enough sugar for you?" Bakugou asks hesitantly, scratching the back of his head.

You laugh aloud wondering if he realizes the double meaning to his words.

"What?! What is so fucking funny? Is it fucking laughable how bad it is?!" He growls standing as you set down your tea as your laughing fit sets in.

Finally you wipe away a stray tear before regaining your composure.

"Oh no. Bakugou it's great. But sugar has another meaning in the south." You giggle again before adding, "Sugar can mean kissing.

Bakugou stares at you for a moment, he watches as you brush you hair behind your hear. He drinks in the blush that burns in your cheeks seep down your throat as you realized what you've just said.

And he breathes in the sweet smell of summer air carried in on the breeze of your open window.

All day while he tended to that sun tea, moving it into direct sunlight he caught wiffs of smells that reminded him of you. Wild flowers, lilies, sunflowers, honeysuckle, all swaying in the wind watching as he worked and every time he opened the top to that tea he would smell that sharp black tea, combated by the sweet smell of sugar.

He slides his hands past your cheeks, wrapping fingers into hair as he pulls your face to his.

Capturing your lips with his own, and like every spar you've had with him you fight to be the winner. Pulling at this bottom lip with your teeth, demanding entrance the he allows but only for his tongue to win in the end.

He kisses you until you become putty in his hands, melting into his touch as your hand grips tightly onto his black skull tee shirt. A moan escapes your lips as he kisses you impossibly sensual and slowly.

He pulls away and you actually whine but he does not move far, pressing his forehead to yours.

He stares at you before a deadly smile crosses his slightly swollen lips. His voice comes out dangerously husky as he says

"Is that enough sugar for you?"

[rosesanthology]

Across time | Akaashi Keiji x F!reader [soulmate!AU]

for this one i tried a little bit of world building to put more context into some stuff as i suck at accurate and realistic historical aeras, this ended up being WAY longer than planned oof also YES i 100% took the well idea from Inuyasha👉🏽👈🏽

- Moeru Fukuro means blazing owl

- au where the reader finds themselves enamored far beyond the limits of alternate timeline and universes

[Tags] : @raevaioli @chenle @lcaita and @lceiji

- it was all because of a stupid dare

- it's a shame you agreed to do anything when more than 50$ were on the line (O.O)

- your friends from high school thought it seemed like SUCH  a good idea to dare you to spend 3 hours in the woods next to your house in exchange for 60$

- the 3 hours of course starting from midnight

- but you weren't one to back down from that kind of stuff

- no sir

- the only thing you had to do was to wait by the abandoned well surrounded by trees without anything to distract you (you trusted them with your phone anyway)

- tonight wasn't even that cold anyway

-so here you were, waiting for time to pass as you listened to the sounds around you

- you found it absolutly mesmerizing, how everything around you had its own identity through the sounds made

- you had always felt calmer in moments like these, by yourself at nighttime, just taking everything in

- you had been to this well many times before, the old lady who lived accross from your appartment told you that it was used as  a wishing well most of the time

- she spoke of how many people through the times had thrown coins into the unsettling darkness of the pit and wished for true love and stuff like that

- the other day, you had found her there and she told you about how that very same well helped her meet her soulmate

- you hardly believed her

- the wishing part ? Okay. It's a normal thing to throw coins into fountains and wells and pray for things. But soulmates ? That seemed like a reach

- so you felt pretty dumb for staring into the dark pit of most likely freezing water as intensely

- you also felt pretty dumb for making sure that you brought a coin with you on this outting

- okay maybe......the idea of finding your soulmate was not so repulsive.... (◡‿◡✿)

- you didn't hope it would work too hard but still.....just sayin that it would be nice

- so, you threw the coin, listening to its sound as it came in contact with the water at the bottom after a long fall and you started praying

- "i don't really know how this is supposed to be done but....if the stories are true can i please meet the love of my life ? If not possible i also accept checks and cash (▰˘◡˘▰)"

- you didn't really mean the money part

- but you know.....getting rich isn't that bad

- at that moment you felt smart for bringing a hoodie because ???? The wind was extremely strong all of a sudden like ?? Sheesh

- you were about to sit down and cuddle into your hoodie for warmth but then u SWORE U HEARD A VOICE COMING FROM THE WELL

- and you aint crazy but you're about dumb enough to lean your head above the opening to hear better

- i think you know where this is going....

- the wind's strength had you tumbling down the well in no time

- time seemed to slow down as you plummeted toward the surface of the water

- soon you came in contact with it, cold soaking your clothes and hurting all the way to your bones. You could see the moon thru the suprisingly clear water as well as the bubbles from your last reserve of air, all this caused you to pass out.

- in the capital of the kingdom MoeruFukuro, they were many things ; from kind townfolks, to golden rice paddies and from a gorgeous royal castle to roaming forest demons

- you heard me right

- the lands around were infested by demons and spirited who manifested at night, some benevolant and others not so much

- thankfully for the royal priest Tsukishima's magical talismans placed all around the town, the people could leave in peace, the malignant creatures knowing better than trying to overcome the spells

- the capital could pride itself all around the country for having ones of the most powerful and smart array of people there ever were in addition to being prosperous from the folks' trade businesses

- for example, in the royal palace, you could find as forementionned priest and mage; Tsukishima Kei, legend has it that he was blessed by Kaguya, the goddess of the moon herself in order to have such knowledge of spells

- there was also General Kuroo Tetsurou, who had his fair share of tales and admirers alike, the biggest one being the one in which he had saved a thousand men from a demon by sacrificing himself, earning its respect and protection in battle

- obviously there was the crowned prince, Bokuto Koutaro. Well he might seem a little air headed and childish at first sight but he takes his duties very seriously even if they consist in little things such as gathering the peoples' eventual complaints himself, some people going as far as saying that he is the closest thing to a god on earth

- and then, wherever Bokuto went, it would be near impossible to forget about his right arm and advisor, the wise and renowned astronomer Akaashi Keiji. If Tsukishima had been blessed by the moon goddess then many people believed that Akaashi was the one who tought Omoikane, god of wisdom and intelligence himself, everything he knew. He was everything people wished they were, calm, good looking, creative, reasonable and intelligent beyond mesure. No wonder he was the one Bokuto trusted the most by his side

- studying the sky also brought Akaashi much knowledge on seasons and the movements of stars and such, providing help to both the people and Tsukishima

- Akaashi did not live in the castle however, well technically yes but he did have a workshop of his own a bit farther in the territory, where he could dedicate himself to staring at the night sky he loved so very very much from his makeshift observatory/rooftop

- he also had a lovely well near his observation tower that Tsukishima had passive agressively insisted on cleansing for him (>.<)

- so there he was, in this particularly enchanting night

- something about that full moon, shining stars and clear sky just about almost got some tears out of him

- but he was interrupted when he heard a low growl from beneath his observation tower

- naturally he looked down to where it came from and saw a fire fox spirit inching suspiciously close to an unconscious girl on the ground near the well

- the demons avoided the talismans yes but that far from the heart of the city trickster spirits and ghouls could just about do as much chaos as they pleased

- rushing to get down, Akaashi took his bow and arrows ready to get rid of the spirit and make sure the girl, no matter how strange her clothes looked like, was safe

- it was fast work, his arrows reaped through the night air seemingly at lighting speed and quickly made the spirit disappear

- muttering a small banishing prayer he picked up the passed out girl and brought her on top of his observatory

- she was dry but she was still shivering from the cold

- "she must not be used to the cold" thought the young astronomer, taking off his haori to put on top of her frame and sitting down next to her, looking downwards at her now relaxed features

- he did not know why he brought her up there but right now it just felt right. So he went on with looking at the sky, resting his hands flat on the ground near his sides

- you were awake, enough to feel a warmth next to you but not enough to open your eyes yet

- you thought that you'd fallen asleep after making the wish and that your friends had carried you back to your room or something

- but it was to cold to be true

- you peaked slightly from between your lashes and were met with a GORGEOUS night sky

- usually in your city, the sky was too polluted to be able to see that many

- and the full moon seemed closer than usual, bewitching, enchanting, almost asking you to come to her, so in a way you did

- now fully awake, you outstretched your hand toward the celestial body, not really thinking in the moment

- "you're awake ! How are you feeling ?" said a silvery soft voice, almost similar to a whisper

- so similar you thought that you were still dreaming as it was the same one you've heard before imagining falling into the well

- your train of thought was quickly cut short by the feeling of warm hands around your own outstreched one

- oh this was definitly real

- you sat up im a swift movement, looking around you and only seeing trees and rice paddies, as well as the lights of a town in the distance

- you almost didn't hear the man's voice over your own rapidly beating heart

- almost

- "Everything's okay now, calm down" he said, probably noticing your panic and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles

- his words seemed to immediatly sink into your very soul at the second they came out of his mouth, and worst is that you thought that if it meant to be marked in such a way you would be glad to have your soul inked all over with just his words

- but you still didn't know him so you kept that thought to yourself

- "who are you and where am i ?" Your voice was so shaky and your mind so foggy that you weren't even sure if they ever made it out of your throat

- but Akaashi heard you loud and clearer than anything before, just touching your hand had seemed like such a common task but the needle like sensation that ran up his whole arm begged to differ, he regained his composure fast though

- "my name's Akaashi Keiji and you're in the kingdom of MoeruFukuro" he made sure to speak as softly as possible, never letting go of your hand, fearing that maybe, if he let go you would disappear back into the wind

- ".....my name's Y/N L/N....listen i don't think im supposed to be here- well more like...now"

- "what do you mean ?"

- and so you explained to him how you actually came from the 21st century in what you could only assume to be another timeline and universe, trying to sound as calm as possible

- because well, you weren't dumb, and castle as "cool and fantasy anime looking like that" were not so common

- Akaashi kept drinking in your voice, painfully aware of every movement of your face, every little speaking quirk and tones, never breaking contact

- he was fast in reassuring you on his own world, he spoke of his life, of his friends and of the castle, not leaving out the fact that demons and spirits were a common factor, carefully choosing his phrasing and explaining with the most concise words

- explaining so well that you felt as if you already knew all these things, deep in yourself

- and time passed

- you soon found yourself laying on you back, fingers still intertwined with the royal astronomer, talking about your lives, as if you were desperatly but as easily as breathing trying to make the other remember your existence, trying to get a part of your souls back

- the silence of the night made your voices reach the other in an almost pieircing melody, the deep blue and silver sky as your only witness of this moment

- "so you're an astronomer right.....why do you like the stars so much Keiji ?"

- oh man did he love hearing you say his name, it sounded like the rarest music he's ever heard coming from you

- "i guess it just comes easily to me....i've never felt lonely in the castle, my friends are supportive and strong even though i've never been particularly good with people....when i come here for reasons other than work and stare at the sky, it feels like im finally walking in my own feelings, finally able to search for something that i somehow always wanted..."

- he turned to your face and swore that he saw many more stars in your eyes than he has in his whole life and continued on

- " it feels- it felt like trying to find a part myself that had been fragmented and thrown into the universe....a part of myself that was very much more human than i thought"

- "oh" was all you could muster between that and the flood of feelings that was inside your heart

- you felt like you were running out of time.

- you felt like you had to make the most out of this precise instant.

- you suddenly jerked up, making Akaashi jump at the sudden move

- he sat up with you, facing you, unsure of what  that was all about

- " Keiji !" You said, full of determination despite the advanced hour of the night, and when he nodded and smiled, humming slightly as response you took it as your greenlight to continue

- " Let's find each other again ! Whether it be in this life or another ! We're bounded together now and im sure whichever gods brought me to you will make it happen again no matter what. So you have to promise me before it's too late....don't forget about me !"

- Akaashi's eyes bore into yours with as much intensity as yours and returning the smile you wore on your face

- he let go off your hand for the first time that night and you felt as if an invisible countdown just started somewhere

- he took of a teal and marine blue colored thread bracelet that he wore and put in on your wrist, it had a small crescent moon symbol made of nacre on it....how in character

- how....him

- "there. That way i won't ever forget you. I sure hope you don't forget about me either"

- the last thing your remembered was the gorgeous yet so undoubtfully sad smile of the astronomer before waking up, warm, in your own bed

- you looked around in a hurry and little did you know, you were back into your appartment's bedroom

- you figured it was just a dream

- and yet your heart was still beating against your ribcage and tears were stinging your eyes

- you looked at your phone to check the time since the sun had already went up and your eyes fell on the bracelet you were wearing on your wrist

- you wasted no time in DASHING out of your appartment straight to the old lady's, well too aware that what had happened last night was definitely not a dream

- as you rung the doorbell you were too busy trying to calm your heart that was still trying to beat out of your chest to hear an all too familiar voice from inside the appartment saying "i'll take this"

- the door opened and you almost fainted

- "hi ! Im Akaashi Keiji your new neighbor from next door.....have we met before ?"

[ozarkhealingtraditions]

From the Archives: Dream Lore

​There are many folk beliefs in the Ozarks surrounding dreams and dream interpretation. Dreams are often used by healers to divine what might be wrong with their patient. Vance Randolph records one such story: “One old lady who has cured warts for a large family says that she just lets ‘em alone until she happens to dream of a man, then seeks this fellow out and induces him to spit some tobacco juice on a penny; after rubbing the warts with the penny she gives it to the man, and as soon as he spends the coin the warts drop off. I asked her if the warts ‘passed’ to the men who spit on the coins. She looked a bit disturbed by this query but answered stoutly that she ‘never had no complaints.’” In this case the man the woman dreamed played an active role in the healing process. Sometimes the healer will dream certain “signs” that need to be examined, like a sort of puzzle, in order to work out what might be happening. These signs often correspond with other cultural symbols but are also sometimes the product of the healer’s own interpretations. In the past dreams were also traditionally used in the Ozarks for love divination. Randolph records several interesting examples: “An old woman once told me that if a girl counts nine stars each night for nine consecutive nights, on the ninth night she will inevitably dream of her husband-to-be. A simpler method is to stare very hard at the brightest star in sight and wink three times; this produces the dream on the first night and gets the same result with much less expenditure of time and energy.” “Sometimes a mountain damsel boils an egg very hard, then removes the yolk and fills the cavity with salt. Just before bedtime she eats this salted egg. In the night, according to the old story, she will dream that somebody fetches her a gourd filled with water. The man who brings her the water is destined to be her husband.” “A girl near Clinton, Arkansas, tells me that she has only to write the names of nine boys on a slip of paper and put the paper between her breasts at bedtime; she is sure to dream of the one who will be her husband.” “The girl who looks at the new moon over her right shoulder and repeats: New moon, new moon, do tell me Who my own true lover will be, The color of his hair, the clothes that he will wear And the happy day he will wed me, will dream of her future mate that night.” “Or a girl may urinate on the sleeve of a man’s shirt and hang it up between her bed and the fireplace. In this case her future husband is forced to appear in the night and move the shirt so that it will not burn. ‘He aint really there, of course,’ one woman told me, ‘She just dreams it.’” Here are some common dream interpretations listed by Randolph. Many of them are similar to other interpretations coming in from European folklore sources. “To dream of muddy water means trouble, to dream of snakes presages a battle with one’s enemies, to dream of money means that the dreamer will be poorer than ever before. A dream of white horses is unlucky and may mean sickness or death in the family. A dream of death is good luck if the dream comes at night and usually signifies a wedding, but to fall asleep in the daytime and dream of death is very unfortunate. A dream of childbirth is always welcome, a sign of a happy and prosperous marriage. The man who dreams repeatedly of fishes will attain great wealth. To dream of chickens is bad luck, and the vision of a black boat means an early death. A lady at Fort Smith, Arkansas, told me that she had discarded nearly all the superstitions of her childhood, but still felt that it is bad luck to dream about cattle. To dream of a hoe or a rake signifies a happy marriage. The girl who dreams always of storms and floods will marry a rich man. It is good luck to dream of pigeons or doves, and usually means that a fortunate love affair is just around the corner.” “The first dream that one has in a new house, or when sleeping under a new quilt, will nearly always come true many mountain girls are anxious to ‘dream out’ a new quilt or coverlet. The same may be said of a dream related before breakfast, or of one dreamed on Friday and told on Saturday: Friday night’s dream, on Saturday told, Will always come true, no matter how old.” “An old woman at Pineville, Missouri, told me that as a little girl she dreamed of a gigantic snake coiled around her father’s log house. She says this was a sign of the Civil War which broke out a few months later, in which her father and two brothers were killed. In 1865 she dreamed that the big snake was dead, upon which she knew that the War would soon be ended.” There are also many traditional remedies for bad dreams. Here are a couple mentioned by Randolph: “Mrs. May Kennedy McCord, of Springfield, Missouri, says that the best way to stop unpleasant dreams is to stuff cloth into the key hole. But I’m not sure that she means this to be taken literally.” “Some people are accustomed to place a knife under the dreamer’s pillow, to prevent nightmares. I once noticed a small girl, not more than ten years old, sleeping with the handle of an enormous homemade bowie knife sticking out from under her pillow. ‘Maizie used to wake up a-hollerin’,’ the mother told me, ‘but since I put that there knife under the piller, we aint had no more trouble.’ Somnambulism is related to nightmares in the hillman’s mind, and there is a widespread belief that one should never awaken a sleepwalker, as this may cause instant death. The Ozarker who sees a friend walking in his sleep just strides along beside him and tries to keep him from getting into danger, but makes no effort to wake him up.” ​ I’ve also heard you can tie three knots in your pillowcase, then take out each knot, slowly, one at a time, and that will prevent a nightmare. You can also sleep with the Bible under your pillow. That, like the keyhole remedy above, are focused at preventing the work of witches on the dreamer. There’s a belief that witches can enter a room through the keyhole, so stopping it up would be a good remedy. Along those lines you can also hang a sieve above your bed, or leave out a dish of salt or mustard seeds to prevent the work of witches. It’s said that witches have to count all the seeds or grains of salt, or they have to pass through every hole in the sieve before they can work on you. The Bible remedy works in the same way. The witch has to read the entire Bible before she can work on you.

[aboyandhisstarship]

Tinder AU David on Deployment

Tinder AU: David on deployment, Gwen makes a choice.

TW: suicide vest, Dear John, Torture, guns, blood, just general violence

 A/N Well my post about cutting some content from this chapter only got likes so i assume you all want to see it...as such head the trigger warnings...and be aware my Davids tend to be less happy go lucky, espiecally when he is working so bear that in mind...and dont yell at me 

 Gwen and David were in a very fancy Restaurant; across from the couple was Gwen’s parents they were asking him “so David…you have to travel a lot for your job?”

David nodded “I Go where I’m sent…”

Gwen’s mom asked “so you can be called away at short notice?”

David sighed “That depends…”

Gwen’s dad accused “so you are not here When Gwen needs you!?”

Gwen demanded “Dad!”

David smiled “it’s ok Gwen…it is a fair question…your right I will not always be here…but when I am Gwen is the most important Person.”

Gwen’s mom was about to respond when David’s phone started to beep, He answered it as Gwen’s parents glared saying “Go for Greenwood…”

David nodded “yes Sir…be there soon.”

Gwen said quietly “you have to go?”

David nodded sadly “Yea there is a…situation…”

David turned to Gwen’s parent’s “It was nice to meet you…”

Gwen’s dad sneered  “I’m sure it was.”

David kissed Gwen’s cheek before leaving, as soon as he was gone The Santos parent’s sighed and said “Gwen we want to talk to you about this relationship…”

 Chicago Illinois:

The plane landed as the team stepped onto the runway where a Detective was waiting saying “You the folks from the Army?”

David’s CO Smiled as she pointed everyone in turn starting with herself “Hammerhead, Whipperwell, Nomad, Cool Breeze.”

The Detective sighed “right no names…look we have no idea if this is legit or some gang banger trying to talk themselves up.”

Hammerhead said casually as the team loaded there bags “they sent us Detective…someone thinks it is legit.”

Fort Bragg, North Carolina:

Gwen slammed her door yelling to the couple on the other side “I am not giving up my future for him!”

Gwen’s mom said “Gwen you need to focus on you…you should finish this experiment and date a nice young man…your father and I have some ideas…”

Gwen groaned “are you really trying to get me to dump David so you can set me up with someone your more comfortable being seen with!?”

Gwen’s dad sighed “there are 3 doctors in this family! Do you really want to drag us down by including a Solider?” he spoke the last word as if it had personally kicked his dog.

Gwen groaned “Go away!”

Her parent’s walked away saying “this conversation is not over young Lady!”

Gwen plucked onto the couch laying her head in Lilly’s lap who was pretending to not hear the whole thing Gwen grumbled “Kill me.”

Lilly chuckled “I’m not exactly qualified…but I can always ask one of David’s coworkers.” She teased

Gwen grumbled “don’t say things like that…They already hate him…”

Lilly sighed “right, sorry.”

Gwen sighed “what am I going to do…I wish I could talk to David he always has the right thing to say.”

Lilly stroked her hair saying “Just relax…maybe watch some TV?”

Chicago Illinois:

David sighed as they drove through the snow saying “nice place…”

The detective chuckled “yea we just got over a blizzard.”

Hammerhead sighed dramatically saying “Great…our briefing was a bit Vague on the situation on the ground here…just some group of hoods are telling anyone who will listen they got their hands on a chemical weapon.”

The detective nodded “the Attica 99, they are mostly in Drug running and have been fighting another gang for years.”

Jasper asked “tell us about them…there leader.”

The detective sighed “Carlos Mendoza, classic piece of work thinks he is the next Al Copone.”

David shook his head “that’s always a good sign…”

The detective nodded “he was the one that started bragging about how they get something big from overseas  at first we figured it was some new drug shipment, then we started picking up chatter that they got there hands on  a chemical weapon that they want to use to send a Message.”

Hammerhead nodded “where do they hang out, we need to take the temperature.”

The Detective sighed “they own a night club on the east side…”

David asked “you got anyone in custody we can talk to?”

The Detective nodded “a couple…”

Hammerhead smiled “good thinking Nomad, you would stand out in the club anyway.”

Jasper said “I will tag along.”

Hammerhead smiled “right then me and Wipperwell will check out the club.”

The car pulled up to their Safe house.

 Police station:

David and Jasper arrived wearing suits at the station walking up to reception David smiled saying “hello, I have an appointment.”

The desk officer asked “can I have your name?”

David smiled “Nomad and Cool Breeze.”

The desk officer chuckled saying “is this a prank.”

Jasper looked at her saying “humor us.”

The officer typed before looking up “uhh the bullpen is that way.”

David smiled at her “thank you Ma’am.”

Jasper shot the officer a wink as they entered the bull pen, David saying “so who exactly do we talk to?”

A detective walked up to them saying “so your…the guys…” she looked around before saying “from the Army?”

Jasper smiled “that’s us.”

David shook his head “Nomad and Cool Breeze Ma’am.”

The detective said “Sasha Daniels.” holding out her hand which was quickly shook.

Jasper said “so if there someone we can talk to?”

Sasha nodded leading them towards the cell “yep I need to be in there to make sure you don’t…”

David blinked “what start waterboarding him?…we don’t do that…”

Jasper added “usually.” With a playful smile

Tabii muttered “sure.”

David opened the door and inside was a rather burley looking man  who simply said “I’m not telling you anything fuzz.”

David sat down across from him with jasper leaning on the table as David smiled “Fuzz now I have not been called that before.”

Jasper nodded “nether have I.”

David shrugged “it helps that we are not cops.”

The guy asked “what?”

David reached onto his jacket pocket pulling out a large folder saying “today is your lucky day friend.”

Jasper smiled “you see we are salesman, we sell vacations.”

The man said louder “what the…”

David nodded “that’s right we sell vacations to unpleasant folks such as yourself and today we are having a fire sale, an all-expense paid trip to Cuba.”

Jasper nodded saying “yep a nice free trip to beautiful Guantanamo Bay Cuba.”

David smiled “and you are likely wondering what you did to earn such a wonderful trip to what do the kids call it?”

Jasper adds helpfully “Gitmo I think?”

David snapped his fingers “that’s right…” placing a badge on the table

The guy said “This a trick?” looking at the badge then at Tabii

Tabii shook her head saying “there for real.”

The guy blinked saying “department of defense…”

David smiled “you’re playing with the big kids now.”

The guy sighed “look maybe I dealt some drugs…”

Jasper clicked his tongue “Nomad do we care about drugs?”

David said “drugs are bad, but that’s not why we are here.”

Jasper nods “no it is not…you see the reason you’re not already on a plane to your new vacation home is because you can maybe tell us something useful.”

The guy bulked up “I aint no snitch.”

David sighed “you and your friends caught our attention when you started telling anyone who would listen that you have a chemical weapon and plan to use it…not the greatest idea.”

Jasper nodded “you see now you and your buddies are on a watch list… And Nomad what do we do to people on watch lists?”

David leaned back saying “well Cool Breeze…we don’t do a lot of watching,” The subtext being conveyed easily.

The guy eyes went wide as Jasper said “that’s right, you see all of your other crimes are thoroughly none of our business but chemical weapons…” Jasper Whistled

David shook his head “it is not a good look for you…and your buddies…but if you talk to us about the weapons maybe the locals deal with you and not us.”

The guy sighed “how do I know you’re legit and won’t send me to Gitmo or worse?”

Jasper smiled “that’s easy we release to the capable hands of Sasha here who sends you to normal prison.”

The guy sighed “alright here is what I know.”

  Safehouse:

David finished briefing saying “that’s what our new friend told us…”

Hammerhead nodded “that lines up with what we saw in the club, lots of guards well-armed but badly trained, we can take em easy but there are Civs around.”

Jasper shrugged “they should make a B line for the exits as soon as the flashes go off.”

David sighed “what about the weapons we will be wearing Hazmats but if they go off it would be bad for the neighborhood.”

Hammerhead smiled “Skylight…Nomad you take the boss as we breach the bottom floor and move for the weapons.”

Wipper well asked “Level of force?”

Hammer head nodded “we have been given the nod, no kid gloves, lethal force that said the DOD does not want any Civ bodies”

David chuckled “so check our shots.”

 Next night:

David adjusted his hazmat Suit a gasmask resting on his forehead as he stood on the roof top next to the club an Mp5 hanging over his chest, Sasha sighed “wow I always thought you guys only dress like that in the movies.”

David chuckled with a shrug “nothing wrong with living up to some stereotype’s, listen this will be loud and they are going to be rather panicked People running out of that building.”

Sasha nodded “we can handle that.”

David’s radio cracked to life as Hammerhead said “Nomad we are on approach.”

David fired Sasha a smile before pulling down his gas mask saying “On my way.” David picked up a breach charge jumping to the next building as Tabii Climbed down from the building.

The Bass of the music pounded in David’s ears as he said “Green,” Placing the breach charge on the skylight after securing his rappel lines.

Hammerhead said “On my count…3, 2, 1 Execute Execute Execute.”

David blew the charge throwing a flashbang into the room as he rappelled into the VIP area of the club, he landed staring down the boss he saw a goon coming from his left and shoot him dead before pointing his gun back at the boss saying “Hands in the Air now!”

David heard gunshots screaming and more flashbangs going off and a woman to his left came into view he scanned ready to shoot her but saw she was only holding a phone he switched back to the boss saying “get those hands up!” his voice muffled by the gas mask.

The boss pulled out a small device and David didn’t Hesitate shooting the boss dead, he detached himself from his rope reloading his Magazine before walked up to the dead man flipping him over before he looking at the picture of Mendoza before saying “Hammerhead, Dry hole…I repeat Mendoza is not on site.”

He saw the woman clearly filming him saying with a sigh “Ma’am you need to vacate,” Before saying on his radio “Hammer head I’m moving your way.”

David moved down the stairs shooting some gang members that tried to get the drop on him before approaching basement calling “coming in!”

Hammerhead turned around Gasmask on her forehead “come on in.”

David entered seeing the “chemical weapon” David pulled up his Gas mask “this a joke ma’am?”

In front of them was pallet of Axe body spray, Jasper sighed “unless they planned to Axe bomb that enemy crew then maybe they moved it.”

Whipper well held up a tester saying “it was here, who knows how long ago.”

Jasper made an over here whistle, David shook his head “how about that.”

Inside were a lot of weapons, ranging from Glocks to AK’s

Hammerhead sighed “The locals can handle these weapons; we need to fall back and figure out our next move.” The team pulled on the gas masks before leaving the building.

 North Carolina:

Gwen was sitting in her dorm before her phone started to light up with crazy amount of messages all having variations on the question “is that David?”

Gwen chuckled “this should be dumb.” She clicked the link and was sent to YouTube video titled “No police raid I ever saw.” With 8 million views, Gwen sighed “I swear if I get rick rolled.”

Gwen clicked Play and was treated to a typical club video of some kind with people dancing to some music about thirty seconds passed before there was an explosion glass rained from the ceiling as people started screaming the camera person saw a cylinder hit the ground before there was a flash  the Person holding the camera was clearly blinded as a man in all black wearing a gasmask dropped from the ceiling, the Camera watched him scan firing his weapon and the camera followed someone who fell against the wall dead blood flying everywhere before the man in the gasmask turned on a man in the middle room calling “Hands in the air Now!”

The camera stepped forward and the man in the gasmask pointed there weapon at them briefly before turning back to the man in the center of the room “Get those hands up!” his voice muffled by the gas mask.

The man looked to be holding something and without a second of pause the guy in the gasmask shot hit dead the weapon was so loud Gwen almost gasped as it was finished with the light Klink of the shell casings hit the floor. The Gasmask wearing man unclipped himself from his ropes reloading  his weapon flipping over the body and looking at a picture shaking his head he said something that Gwen could not hear over the chaos before turning around  looking directly at the person filming saying voice muffled by the gas mask  “you need to vacate ma’am.”

Gwen watched the Green eyes behind the gas mask and the way the guy wearing the mask said ma’am Gwen mouth opened “Holy fuck…”

The video kept filming all through the evacuation before ending. Gwen sent back her mouth wide open as she paused “I knew what he does…but seeing it…”

Gwen stood up walking over to the trashcan before vomiting.

Chicago Illinois:

David sat on a chair still in full gear his eyes closed as he napped, they were waiting for their local contacts to tell them if they heard anything when they heard coming to the door there was a knock and David pulled out his Glock as he nodded to Jasper who opened the door, Sasha walked in seeing the armed David who lowered his gun saying “Should I come back later?” food in her hand.

Hammerhead smiled saying “come on in Detective.”

Sasha entered and saw the inside of the safe house covered in photos and other documents about the team’s target.  Sasha smiled carefully “nice place…”

Whipper well laughed “better than our normal safe houses.”

Sasha chuckled “somehow I believe it…”

David asked “what do you have for us?”

Sasha smiled putting down the subs saying “your raid has had the desired effect, Attica 99 have gone to ground, and we have rounded up the majority of their leadership from the club.”

Jasper asked “and the Weapon?”

Sasha sighed “most of the guys we grabbed said the same thing, it should have been in the basement of the club, and they are just as shocked as we are that it wasn’t there.”

David asked “we believe them?”

Sasha paused “some BS’ing us I buy…but all of them…especially after what they saw I don’t buy it you put the fear of god into them…”

Hammerhead sighed “did we learn anything.”

Sasha nodded “Mustard gas…what they stole us 800 metric liters of mustard gas.”

South Carolina:

Gwen tossed and turned as she watched the assault over and over again, the brutality the coldness of it was getting to her…and just for a second she started to wonder…maybe my folks are right about him.

Chicago:

David sat in a car with Sasha looking at an apartment around the corner from him, David was in passenger with Sasha behind the wheel, and David had his eyes closed as Sasha cleared her throat “soo Nomad…”

David opened his eyes “Target sighted?”

Sasha asked “Target?”

David frowned before slapping his head “sorry old habits…”

Sasha frowned “I think it is telling…”

David sighed “do I want to…”

Sasha interrupted saying “Judging from your assault you’re not big on taking people alive.”

David countered “I am trained to fight wars Detective not fight crime.” Peering through binoculars

Sasha nodded “right…so is there a Miss Nomad?”

David dodged saying “do you see a ring?”

Sasha countered “I don’t know your name; I don’t think it is a stretch for you not wearing your ring.”

David lied unconvincingly “I am an only child, with no family, no friends and no romantic attachments.”

Sasha laughed “they really make you say that?”

David chuckled “no names, we really going to talk about my personal life?”

Sasha said with triumph “You do have a personal life.”

David sighed “the life I have is the Mission, it comes first…always does…”

South Carolina:

Gwen was starting to question her relationship, as she looked at her phone all of her texts to David un answered as he deployed…somewhere, Gwen opened to email again looking at it…unsure what to do, it was a big chance but then again she would have to leave David…she began to look it over again.”

 Chicago, safe house:

David briefed “we have been sitting on the girlfriend’s house for almost two weeks, but we finally got a sighting of him…”

Showing a photo of Mendoza taking out the trash, Hammer head said “the Pentagon give us the go, we want him alive to have a long chat…we move in tonight.”

 South Carolina:

Gwen had mauled it over before she hit the call button “Miss Santo’s have you considered our offer?”

Gwen nodded “yes I have decided to accept it.”

The voice sounded happy “glad to hear it Professor, you will need to move here…will that be an issue?”

Gwen paused before saying “Not at all.”  Gwen ended the call and sat back.

Gwen quickly put her stuff in a truck heading for Seattle, before she clutched the key heading for David’s apartment.

David’s apartment Fort Bragg:

Gwen let herself in seeing that the home had not been occupied in some time, she took the case she brought carefully putting away all of her stuff, she placed a note on the kitchen table before saying out loud “sorry David.”  Leaving her key on the table she locked the door and walked away not looking back.

 Chicago:

David lowered his night vision goggles over his gasmask as they crept towards the apartment, the team carefully opened the lobby quickly clearing the darked building as they advanced up the stairs, coming to apartment 27, the one owned by Mendoza’s Girlfriend, they stacked up on the door as Hammer head counted down with her fingers “3,2,1.”

At one Whipperwell used a breaching hammer bashing open the door, the team flew in shouting “on the floor!”

A baby cried as David and Jasper wrestled the surprised Mendoza to the ground David demanded “where is it!”

Mendoza responded “you’re too late.”

Hammerhead sighed “Whipper well let’s check on the girl friend.”

David and Jasper lifted there masks with David asking “what are you smiling about?”

David was answered with the yell of one word “avalanche!”

University of Seattle:

Gwen shook hands with the English department head saying “happy you were able to join us on such short notice Professor.”

Gwen smiled “happy to be here.”

The department head “lets show you to your office.”

 Chicago:

Sasha saw David and jasper drag Mendoza out of the smoking apartment, Sasha Asked “nomad…what happened?”

David pulled out a sat phone as Jasper growled “this son of a bitch rigged up his girlfriend with an S vest…clacked it off.”

Sasha blinked “are you saying…”

Jasper nodded “turned his Girlfriend into a suicide bomber, took out herself, her baby, Hammer head and Whipper well.”

Jasper adding“and apparently he already planted the gas.”

Sasha swore “that sick fuck!”

David nodded “yes sir…I understand what the president is authorizing…no sir…no qualms about it…yes sir the Mission comes first,”  

Sasha paused “Nomad…”

David stated “pentagon have told us the gloves are off He has been declared an enemy combatant…”

Sasha asked “what are you saying?”

David said simply “Take a walk…”

Mendoza smile faded “wait, I’m not going into police custody?”

Jasper opened the van back doors as David repeated “take a walk.”

Sasha asked “what are you going to do to him?”

David clenched his fists “nothing we have not done before.”

Mendoza said “wait you can’t, I killed some of them…there is no telling what they do to me.”

Sasha paused before nodding saying “right…”

David threw him into the van saying coldly “enjoy your walk.”

Warehouse: TW torture

David dragged Mendoza to a chair in the middle of the warehouse, where surrounding them where a variety of tools, David said coldly “Tell us where the gas is.”   Jasper picked up a wretch.

Mendoza said “I want a lawyer!”

David sighed “wrong answer” Nodding at jasper, who swung the wrench at Mendoza’s left pointer finger breaking it the blow causing to man scream in pain.

David said again “where is the gas Mendoza? You have 9 more fingers.”

Mendoza breathed out “I am not telling you anything!”

David nodded again and jasper broke his middle finger as Mendoza screamed “Fuck Fuck stop stop!”

David glared “this ends as soon as you tell me what I want to know.”

Mendoza sighed “fine…your mom is a whore!”

David sighed “do the entire hand.”

Jasper swung wretch breaking the entirety of his left hand, David said “you want to survive this you piece of garbage? Then tell us!”

Mendoza groaned “I won’t tell you anything!”

David grabbed a car battery and jumper cables sparking the object, as jasper throw a bucket of water on him “tell us and this ends.”

Mendoza groaned as David touched his body with the cables delivering a severe shock the man swore “fuck ok…wiggly alright the baseball game…those punks from fifth street have their meetings there, we are going to take them out in the game.”

Jasper groaned “along with thousands of others!”

Mendoza groaned “that’s war…”

Jasper looked like he was going to hit him again  but David stopped him “Cool Breeze…The Mission isn’t over…we need to call Sasha.”

Mendoza groaned “you can’t stop it.”

David ignored him as he called Sasha saying “wiggly stadium, and send an ambulance to the following address…”

Station:

David signed the paperwork to get his team released from the morgue as Sasha said “so I visited Mendoza in the hospital…well as much as I could considering the Feds waiting to ship him off.”

David put down the clip board “oh what did you learn?”

Sasha paused “he must have fallen down one hell of a flight of stairs” she half joked

David responded coldly “whatever the mission allows.”

Sasha nodded “the pentagon…they told you to do that?”

David answered “they wanted the gloves off…that’s what it looks like have a nice life detective.”

David left the station and never looked back

Fort Bragg:

David sighed as Miller debriefed saying “Master Sargent…you did good work.”

David shook his head “we took casualties sir…the mission was off from day one.”

Miller nodded “indeed, but you are Sargent Fronds managed ok, you have been given the command, of the team.”

David paused before saying “thank you sir…”

Miller Smiled “you have to new members joining you soon, the first is your tech expert, Warrant officer Tabii Gordon, Her call sign is Redcap,” Sliding over a file before adding “and fresh out of selection, Corporal Gaylord Nurfington his call sign is Dirt Diver”

David crocked an eyebrow “Gaylord?”

Miller smiled “his friends call him Nurf.”

David took the files “thank you sir.”

Miller reinterred “You did good work son…go home and get some rest.”

David nodding grabbing his files and going home.

 David’s apartment:

David opened the door, sighing as he entered trying to put on a smile not let the mission get to him he put his key in the dish saying aloud “Gwen you home?...it’s me David…”

David then said aloud “well I guess you would figure that…considering this is my apartment.”

David felt his hair stand up on the back of his neck, his Instinct’s saying there was something wrong, he reached for his gun moving for the bedroom, taking a deep breath he threw the door open quickly clearing the empty room, David moved quickly clearing the bathroom. Before lowering his weapon his heart pounding before he saw it, the note and the key on the table.

David put his weapon away picking up the note feeling his stomach turn as he recognized Gwen’s handwriting.

David opened the note reading:

 David…I’m sorry that I can’t do this in person, but with you being sent away right in the middle of that dinner, forced me to come to a conclusion that maybe I am not cut for this life…being with you, watching the news every night wondering if I will see your face as a casualty in some country, or get a knock on my door or a call saying that you died and they can’t tell me where or how just that you are a hero.  And they are right you are a hero David…but your also in a messy business…I saw a video from your recent deployment…I saw you kill two people with no mercy not hesitation. That is the type of person you are, I guess I always knew after our first when you shot that man, but I didn’t want to read that writing on the wall…I know who you are David I know you would never hurt anyone who was not trying to hurt you, but frankly it all comes down to one question, and I decided not to give you a chance to answer it, the question is what do you love more your job or me…and I already know the answer…the mission always comes first  for you David…so I took a job somewhere else…you will never see me again…goodbye David…stay safe

 -Gwen

 David dropped the note holding his head in his hands before reaching over to this phone to call Gwen before met with a simple “the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected.”  

David look down feeling the tears welling on his face before his phone buzzed, he reeled himself in saying with a simple “go for Greenwood…Yes sir, not an issue at all.”

David placed the note on the table grabbing his go bag and left the apartment.

A/N: 

So Gwen dumped David after his team died and he is now in charge...will they stay apart...Not sure...maybe, maybe some thing will happen at her old school, what i do know is that there will be some Jaspvid Brotp and David driving into his work until his team pulls him out...but no need to worry about that, the next chapter will probably be tamer, but i debated showing Jasper and David torturing that guy for a long time, they was build up with the waterboarding joke, but considered just not showing it cutting to the scene after, but decided to make the audience have conflicted feelings about David, possibly  even Side with Gwen who just dumped him...but i don’t want David to be a crazy guy so i wrote in The Pentagon Ordering it clearly, but enough talk...tell me what you thought of this chapter, and of that scene, weather it was done well, or felt gratuitous...this chapter has been done for like a week before i decided to publish, anyway stay safe   

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 3 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 15/?

On her way down to the water, Jess blinked the sun from her eyes and slapped her baseball cap on. They still had many more weeks left of the relentless sun and heat, the only let up being the late afternoons and early evenings when there was a little respite from the heat. Only then, when night crept in did the temperature change drastically, becoming colder but not enough for Jess to wear a jacket or sweater. She never really seemed to feel the cold all that much, she put it down to having lived in so many different places with such differing weather. Sarah had quite loudly blamed the fact that she had more layers of fat than most. Jess grit her teeth and shoved the comment away, hoping that not too many people from the group had heard her.

Her sneakers flapped against the dusty surface of the slope as she neared the bottom. Carol was in the corner by the shore, Ed watching her closely as she washed his shirt. Sophia sat on a rock nearby playing with her doll. Her soft chatter like a delightful tune to Jess’s ears. On the opposite side, was Daryl, knee deep in the water and holding up a sopping wet shirt with a huge bloodstain right in the middle. She scuffed towards him and stopped by the waters edge.

“How you doing, Stinky?” She chirped.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder at her. He was wearing a simple, off-white vest that was turning transparent from the water.

“Fine.” He called back.

She tilted her head to one side as she observed him trying to remove the stubborn stain from the garment. Her knowledge of history and attendance at many, authentic renaissance fairs had led to a vast knowledge of life without washer dryers and laundromats. She kicked off her sneakers, rolled her jeans up and waded into the water.

“Give it here, you’re making a pigs ear of that.” She chuckled.

“Been washin’ my stuff in rivers all my life, you can’t teach me shit, girl” he shot back, although he didn’t sound angry, more intrigued than anything else. She stopped beside him, the water lapping at her thighs. In the blistering heat, it was a welcome respite. Her body temperate cooled and she really wanted to just dive in and submerge herself in the tantalizing freshness of the water.

“You’re so stubborn. Just humor me, c’mon.” She said, reaching out for the shirt.

He reluctantly dragged it up from the water. Once again, she couldn’t help but notice his strong arms and dragged her lower lip under her front teeth. When her eyes lifted to his face, she was alarmed to find him staring right at her.

“Jess?” He asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Um. Sorry. I wasn’t looking- I mean...” She pointed a finger at him “…give me the damn shirt” and snatched it from his grasp. “Uh…” She shook the image from her head and waded a couple of steps to her left, meeting a large rock protruding from the water. “You need to use a rock. Like this.”

Swirling the shirt around in the water, she kept her eyes firmly on what she was doing, knowing that if she risked a peek, he would be able to see straight through her and her inability to ignore his two best features. Gathering the shirt up, she began massaging it into the smooth rock. He silently looked on from behind her, craning his neck to see what she was doing. Then, she took hold of one end of the shirt and beat it against the surface with a loud slap that echoed across the quarry each time. Daryl thought it looked like she was taking some serious anger out on his one and only shirt and hoped it would still be in one piece when she was done. When she stepped back, dipped it in the water and held it up, the stain had visibly diminished

“That was a lot of blood.” She remarked with a small pant. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how out of breath she was from battering a rock with a large piece of fabric.

“Yeah” He agreed. “Aint mine.”

“I know.” She said quickly, meaning he was now staring at her again. “That’s what I-I was looking for” She stammered, motioning to his arm. “Injuries.”

He nodded, feigning agreement. “Yeah, sure.”

“Damn right. That’s me. Always checking folks for injuries.” She babbled as she wrung the shirt out and attempted to slosh past him.

“No ya aint.” He argued with a small smile.

She sighed and turned to him “Alright. No, I don’t. But I really was with you. Honestly.”

“Right” He grinned.  

“Here.” She said, tossing the twisted ball of fabric at him “I’m going before I embarrass myself even more.”

“Sure” He grunted. “Oh, don’t forget to check Merle for injuries.”

She stopped and slowly looked over her shoulder, her lips pushed into a thin line before she released a bashful laugh and flapped her hands at her sides, tilting her head back and sighing at the sky.

“That’s for callin’ me Stinky.” He confirmed while wading back to the shore and passing her.

“OK. We’re even. I’ll leave checking Merle over to twisted sister number 2” she mentioned, her hands coming up and dramatically shielding her mouth as she gasped and giggled loudly, the sound bouncing from the cliffs around the water. Daryl let himself go and laughed along with her as they both paddled through the water and back to dry land.

Gives as good as she gets, this girl.

Carol looked up when she heard Daryl and Jess laughing with one another as she walked out of the water, her lips curled into a smile when she saw Daryl beaming from ear to ear, a sight she had never seen since she’d met him for the first time. She’d assumed he never displayed such an expression, but it was now clear that he just didn’t have anything to smile about before.

“I say you could stop?” Ed snapped from behind her. “I need that damn shirt.”

She resumed her task without argument, the happy scene she’d witnessed making it all a little easier.

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That night, Jess was taken off guard when she passed the RV. She held an empty, metal bowl after eating alone in her tent and was distracted by a whistle from the top of the vehicle. She looked up to see Daryl reclined in his seat, in his usual spot but a lot earlier than usual. He nudged his head up, beckoning for her to join him. It had been weeks since they’d first met and she felt a sense of pride when she thought of how far they’d come and how they'd managed to at least partially break down each others barriers. She wasn’t yet sure about saying they were friends, but she was certain they enjoyed each other’s company.

Returning her plastic cutlery and her camping bowl to the bucket in the food prep area, she passed Sarah and Jodie who were immersed in hushed whispers as usual. Also, around the campfire, was Glenn, Andrea, her sister Amy, Merle, Dale and T-dog. She offered them all a polite smile, receiving the same back. Carol and Rick retreated into their tents with their families and Shane was out checking the fences. Having never really seen Daryl and Jess on their regular perch, everyone exchanged glances when she climbed the ladder to the RV, their nightly routine now revealed to the group.

Appearing beside him, she sat down and caught his eye. Saying nothing, they sat side by side for a while until the chatter resumed below and both of them were certain the topic of conversation was not directed at them. Jess slumped down in her seat, rested her head on the backrest and closed her eyes while Daryl lit a cigarette. After a while, Jess found she’d drifted off into a light sleep and woke only when she heard Sarah wish Daryl a good night in her typical, flirtatious high school cheerleader voice. Daryl ignored her.

Jess sat up and rubbed at her face, clearing her throat and raising her eyebrows at the distance Daryl was able to flick his cigarette end out into the distance.

“What were you doing when the word ended?” She wanted to know. The sound of her voice seemed to slice through the atmosphere like a knife and she smarted at the sound. “Wow, never thought I’d say that sentence.” She added more quietly.

He flicked his lighter on and off over and over again as he struggled to decide if he should tell her the truth or not. Concluding that he had previously snapped at her and offended her and she was still sat with him, he guessed she would be able to handle it.

“Was workin’ my way through four lines of coke when I looked up and saw the TV had that national guard alert thing on it.” He disclosed.

“Yeah, we saw that on our phones. My friend and I. We were at a renaissance fair.” She said casually.

He briefly wondered why she didn’t seem bothered that he confessed so openly to being a cocaine user when it occurred to him that she simply took people as they were, flaws or not.

“A what?” He questioned.  

“A Renaissance fair. It’s a recreation of a historical setting with costumes and role play and stuff, for a whole weekend.”

His expression was one of pure bafflement as he stared at her.  

“So, you like… get all dressed up and run around in a field pretending to’ to fight or some shit?”

“Well, that’s the battle reenactment part. But it happens, Yeah.” She affirmed.

His brow furrowed. “You’re kinda weird, y’know that?”

“I think that’s what you like about me.” She grinned as she leaned towards him and nudged his elbow with hers. It was the first time she’d actually physically touched him aside from letting him help her up from the ground in the woods. He didn’t react which she could only take as a good sign.

“I don’t like nobody.” He scoffed.  

Jess huffed and rolled her eyes, a bright smile on her face that he could see clearly enough due to light from a lantern between them.

“Yes, you do. Just accept that you’re as weird as me and that’s why we get along.” She grinned.

Part of him hated that she was able to draw smiles out of him like no one else he had ever known, but the other part of him liked the fact that when he was with her, things seemed that little bit easier.

“Whatever.” He dismissed.

She laughed to herself and got up, reaching her arms high above her head and stretching her muscles.  

“Where ya goin?” He questioned.  

“Back to my tent.” She yawned. “Tired”

“Ya ain’t got no more weird hobbies to tell me about?” He continued.

Jess was mildly shocked by the question, he wanted her to tell him about her hobbies? He wanted to talk to her at all? It no longer felt like she was forcing him to converse with her, he’d taken the lead this time and she was more than happy to let him have it.  

“Wasn’t aware you were that interested.” She admitted.

“I ain’t. Just nothin better to do.” He shrugged.

Jess plonked herself back in the rickety chair again and shifted her body to face him, throwing one leg over the other.

“OK, so if my hobbies are weird, what are yours?” She challenged.

At the prospect of being asked more about himself and his life, his desire to talk lessened considerably in seconds.

“Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me” He mumbled.

“I am.” She glared at him with a bold and entertained look.  

Accepting that he wasn’t going to get out of answering her probing and he was partly to blame for encouraging her to stay, he nibbled his bottom lip and answered her question.

“Fine. Huntin’, drinkin’, gettin’ high”

"And spittin' chaw in a bucket?" She joked.

"Asshole" He grumbled as she covered her mouth with her hand and stifled a giggle.

Birds flew overhead, a now rare sight that meant there were still some species out there somewhere, flourishing away from all the decay. Jess swayed back and forth in her seat with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Maybe you can teach me how to hunt, drink and get high one day.” She suggested breezily.

“Nah, I ain’t wastin’ time with no lightweight.” He declined.

“Just makes me a cheap date.” She realized instantly that she’d just come out with something unintentionally flirtatious and panicked. “I mean, yeah…uh… probably a lightweight.” She laughed awkwardly as she played with the hem of her T-shirt.

“Ya ever been huntin’?” He wanted to know, ignoring her outward discomfort and wondering what it was that made her so fidgety sometimes.

“No. I’d like to.” She said.

He nodded, leaning forward and picking up a leaf from the roof of the RV. He fiddled with it, folded it in half and then in half again.

“Too dangerous to be out there without knowin’ whatcha doin’.” He expressed.

“Yeah. Guess you’re right. And I wouldn’t.” She agreed.

Believing she’d murdered the conversation with her careless chit chat, she stopped talking and resigned herself to sitting quietly and tapping her sneaker on the edge of the roof again. More time passed and Jess couldn’t think of a way to get up and leave without seeming embarrassed or strange. She knew she was overthinking everything but being in the presence of someone she was actually starting to find highly attractive was unsettling and she wasn’t used to it.

“So, what’s the difference?” She heard him utter out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Said ya ain’t shy, ya introverted. What’s the difference?”

Two enquiries into her personality and interests in one night meant that she may have been all over the place and afraid to do something wrong, but the night had still been a small triumph in itself.

“Shy means you’re anxious about talking to people. Nervous and timid. Introverts aren’t always like that; we just need to re-charge sometimes. We’re confident with people we’re comfortable around. I’ll talk to people but I usually find most folks just drain me. I guess I’m just quiet by nature, but I’m not shy.” She explained.

“Hm.” He grunted. “Some kind of head shrinker tell you that?”

“No. It’s kind of common knowledge. Or at least I thought it was.” She disclosed “I think maybe your introverted too, it’s something we have in common.”

“Nah. I just think most folks are assholes.” He countered quickly

Jess giggled at his stubborn streak and for the second time Daryl realized that he liked the fact that she thought him funny. His mouth quirked up into a half smile.

“I’ll leave you alone to recharge your introvert batteries.” She winked at him. “Goodnight.”

She didn’t hear him protest or call her back as she descended the ladder so when her feet hit the ground, she made straight for her tent, longing for her sleeping bag and wishing she had a pen so she could record the events of her time spent sat with someone she really would have liked to have called her friend.

“Hey.” A voice called out. She turned back and saw him smoking yet another cigarette and leaning forward in his seat. “Ya wanna learn how to track animals?” A thin line of smoke rose from where he sat, high up into the air before it vanished.

A rush of excitement thundered through her and she wrestled with the urge not to grin too widely.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She squeaked, her voice emerging in higher pitch than she’d expected.

“Sunrise. Meet me at the tree line over there” he lifted his arm, pointing across the camp. “Make sure ya have somethin to eat first. Ya pass out on me i’ma leave ya ass out there.”

Jess knew it was a playful dig at her making him eat a bowl of berries before going hunting and liked the fact that he’d remembered and used it on her. Turning the tables and proving that their jibing at one another was enjoyed as much by him as it was by her.

“OK. I will.” She beamed. “See you at sunrise”

“One more thing” He rasped, standing up and driving a hand into his jeans pocket. Her eyes grew larger when she saw the plastic box clasped in his fingers as he tugged them out of his pocket. He threw it down to her, the box clattering in the dust at her feet. She looked down at it and wanted nothing more than to run back to the ladder and hug him. Five precious, black, ballpoint pens.

“Yours stopped workin’, right?” He checked.

“Yeah.” She responded as she gingerly bent down to pick them up.

“Saw ‘em when I was out on a run with Rick the other day.”

He thought of me when he was out on a run?

She opened her mouth to speak, but what was a simple gesture from Daryl was a huge deal to Jess. He had just given her back the ability to express her emotions and keep her sanity in check. Now, she would need no more dangerous walks in the woods alone and she could write until she fell asleep.

“This is um…you don’t know how grateful I am for this. Thank you, Daryl.” She said, swallowing hard and looking right at him.

“No problem.” He grunted, raising a hand at her in a small wave “Night.”

Before she succumbed to sleep, Jess sat cross legged on her sleeping bag with her torch in her mouth, shining down on the page and began to write.

It’s funny, I never thought someone throwing a box of pens at me would mean so much. Daryl knew I couldn’t write because my one and only pen stopped working, so he brought me back a box from a supply run. I must have looked at him like he had grown an extra head. I just couldn’t believe he thought of me while he was out there. I can write again, my mind feels clearer already and I’m happier. All because he got me some stupid pens.

OK, maybe it isn’t just the pens. He seems to be coming around to the idea of us being friends. Tonight, he didn’t actually say it but he wanted me to go sit with him on the RV and then tried to act as though he wasn’t interested in me at all while asking me questions about myself. He’s actually got a sense of humor and a personality that he’s slowly but surely letting me see and it’s awesome. He’s pretty awesome.  

But he caught me looking at him today. It was mortifying and I’m so angry at myself. Yeah, the guy is hot. But I thought I was stronger than to get caught practically drooling at him. He knew too. He knew exactly what was going on and I feel like my life is officially over.

Hopefully, I’ll get eaten by a walker or he’ll get a bout of amnesia.

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Her T-shirt was sticking to her back with sweat. She really wanted to know how Daryl did this every day in such heat and sometimes even with his leather vest on. She was sure she’d pass out and had consumed most of the water she brought with her before they’d even been out for an hour. Daryl crept along in front of her, examining the ground and snapped branches of foliage In the woods. Try as she might, she kept falling behind and her legs felt like they were made of cement.

I really should have used that gym membership.

“C’mon, keep up. Stay close to me.” Daryl instructed from in front of her. She could see that the back of his shirt was also dampened with sweat, but unlike her, he showed little to no signs of fatigue.

“It’s so damn hot out here” she complained “am I in hell?!”

“Purgatory at best.” He mumbled

She dragged the back of her hand through the perspiration on her top lip.

Great. A sweat moustache. Sexy.

“Looooord. I’m MEEELTING!” She cried.

“Shh!” He whirled around, bundling her against a tree with his fingers wrapped around the top of one of her arms. The movement was so quick and unexpected and her flesh stung but she didn’t flinch, his temper too short for her to react. She couldn’t deny that fear tickled her veins and she was rooted to the spot. “You stupid or somethin?! Ain’t just animals out here. Place is full of Walkers and ya gonna get us both bit if ya don’t keep ya god damn voice down.” He hissed at her through gritted teeth.

“OK. I’m sorry.” She whispered. “You’re hurting me”

In a split second, he was full of guilt for losing his temper at her as he examined her alarmed expression. He looked down at his hand clamped tightly around her arm. He quickly let go as if her skin was made from lava, seeing the red mark he’d left behind. An angry handprint. He shrank back and she noticed his eyes kept dropping and coming back to the burning patch around her bicep.

“I-I didn’t mean to-“ he mumbled.

“-It’s OK.” She interrupted “really, it’s OK.”

He dragged a hand over his face, his crossbow rattling against his legs as he held it loosely in his grasp with his other hand.

“Come on, let’s keep going.” She suggested, stepping away from the tree and motioning with her hand for him to pass her.

“Wait” he grunted. She stopped and stood still, witnessing what she could only describe as pure, genuine regret in the angry, aggressive redneck.

“I wouldn’t hurt ya. Not on purpose.” He told her

“Daryl, I know” Jess tried

“Naw, Naw” He dismissed, waving a hand at her. “I saw it. in your eyes. Ya scared of me.”

Jess exhaled slowly and tried to ground herself. This was a conversation she had definitely not anticipated and one with which she knew she needed to exercise extreme caution with.

“You just surprised me. I’m not scared of you. I wouldn’t spend half as much time with you if I was. I understand why you got mad at me, I’m kind of annoying and I don’t know how to handle this new world like you do.”

He paced about in the small space between the trees in front of her. Back to front, side to side, before he finally stopped and began to bite his thumbnail.

“Sorry.” He muttered from behind his hand.

Jess smiled at him. In that moment, she knew that Daryl was not good at apologies and had very likely, hardly ever, genuinely apologized for anything in his life.

“I told you. It’s OK”

He nodded once, raised his crossbow again and charged past her.

“Ya gotta keep up so I can keep an eye on ya.” He grumbled

She took a quick swig of water from the bottle that was fastened to a plastic strap on her belt and carried on after him, wishing that it was raining, or snowing, or that she was standing in the water of the quarry washing clothes. But the view made up for it and she couldn’t lie to herself, watching Daryl stalk about between the trees, concentration etched on his face, his crossbow at the ready and his strong physique shining in the light of the sun as he moved was almost enough to make her forget what she was doing there altogether.  But while she thought Daryl nice to look at, she remained platonically interested in him and what he had to teach her there and then, knowing that someday, she might need to use the information presented to her.

“See this right here.” He stopped and pointed with his boot to a nibbled patch of grass “deer.”

Jess finally caught up, standing next to him and regarding the slightly disturbed area on the ground.

“How do you know that?!” She asked with surprise.

“They’re messy eaters. They press it against their top palette and yank it right outta the ground.”

Her face changed and she thought for a moment as her lips rose into a smile.

“Like a really cute lawn mower.” She commented.

He just looked at her as if she was crazy.

“What about Walkers? Can you track them?” She wanted to know as she peered down at the missing grass, noting the disturbed earth under it.

“Walkers and live humans are easiest to track. We leave footprints, stamped down grass, broken twigs and messed up foliage. That kinda shit.” He explained.

She began to back away with a glint in her eye that he didn’t like the look of.

“So if I ran off, you’d be able to track me?” She asked.

He followed her, walking with her as she stepped backwards. She was challenging him and he didn’t like it one bit. Not out there in the open. Not where she could get killed.

“I could, but runnin’ off would be a real dumb thing to do.” He warned.

“Look at me, it’s not like I’m going to get far.” She gestured to her torso with her hands.

“Stop.” He ordered firmly

“Maybe I should try, could use the exercise” she shrugged lightheartedly, aware she was once again prodding at his temper but caring very little. Angry Daryl wasn’t all that bad to look at either.

He was glaring at her, his blue eyes intense. For such a mysterious, introverted and antisocial person, she couldn’t figure out why it was that he seemed to manage and maintain eye contact with her on a number of occasions. Not that she was complaining.

“Ya stay with me, so I can keep ya safe.” He affirmed.

His switch in tone from relaxed to stern and protective stirred something in Jess. She liked the way his eyes locked with hers as he talked about keeping her safe. She hadn’t expected this level of care from him and could only hazard a guess that it was because he actually did like her enough to want her around. She nodded and gestured with her hand for him to continue leading the way.

“How did you learn this?” She queried.

“My ol’ man used to take me out into the woods. Blindfold me and bail. Had to track him.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Yeah. He’d tan my hide every time I got it wrong.”

Jess smiled at the ground as she walked but it soon dawned on her that he could be serious and that there was the possibility that Daryl didn’t have the best upbringing in the world.

“You taught anyone else how to do this?” She continued in her quest to find out more about him.

“Naw.”

“Don’t you and Merle usually hunt together?”

“Not no more. We split up. He’s more interested in getting’ laid. Stop askin’ questions, every animal in Georgia can hear ya.” He scolded.

“Sorry.” She muttered as she scanned the area around them. A darkened, bumpy patch around a tree stump caught her eye and she skirted away from Daryl, approaching it with some hesitation.

“Are those edible?” She questioned while leaning forwards over the gathering of mushrooms.

“Again with the damn questions” he complained as he stomped over to where she stood and followed her gaze.

“I have to ask questions to learn” she corrected, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, can eat those” He answered, ignoring her last statement.. “But don’t eat nothin’ like that without askin’ me or Merle or someone that knows what the hell they’re talkin’ ‘bout. The wrong ones could kill ya.”

“Or get me real high.” She suggested with a wink.

“You ever done shrooms?” His face was unimpressed, not taken in by her playful line of questioning.

She placed both hands on her hips and let out a small laugh “Do I look like I’ve done shrooms?”

“Right. No. Don’t touch any unless ya desperate.” He told her before resuming her lesson about different types of tracks. He explained how animals have certain ways of moving which leave footprints that signal what they are. Along with how to identify bird tracks and how to cover her own path if she ever need to escape Into the woods.

“Why would I run away from another live human?” She asked.

“Can’t trust people no more. Some of ‘em are worse than the Walkers.” He replied. “Ya see another person, keep ya distance and ya weapon ready. They could steal your shit or wanna eat ya with the way things are goin’.”

That’s food for thought.

“I’m a catch. I’d keep them fed for at least a fortnight.” She chirped.

He suddenly stopped and glared back at her. She couldn’t read his expression, somewhere between irritation and confusion. He said nothing and carried on walking.

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The majority of the day was highly educational for Jess and she took a vested interest in being able to hunt her own food and escape without trace into the trees. She’d even been able to practice a few things. Daryl let her use his crossbow to shoot a squirrel and she shocked herself when she celebrated the animals demise instead of crying about it. That was her squirrel, he had told her. She was going to skin it and eat it because it was her first ever successful hunt. She felt a swelling sense of pride in her chest when he handed it to her and made sure she carried it back to camp.

As they neared the tree line that separated them from the clearing in which the fire was being started for the evening, Jess and Daryl slowly wandered along, neither of them really wanting to go back and sit among the others. Their time alone in the woods had been mutually enjoyable and peaceful and Daryl considered asking her if she wanted to do the same again the next day. Before he could speak, she beat him to it.

“I enjoyed today.” She confessed. “It was very educational.”

“Me too.” He replied quietly, keeping his vision on his path and hoisting the string of squirrels and various other small, dead animals further up his shoulder.

“Where’s your vest?” She enquired, using it as an excuse to catch a glimpse of his arms.

Screw it. I’ve earned this.

He looked up at her briefly, catching her eyes sweeping his upper arm and chose to ignore it as as he prepared for her reaction to what he was about to tell her.

“Washed it this mornin’. Was dryin’ when I left.” She began to giggle to herself and felt him shove her in the arm in jest. “Shut up.”  He grunted.

“He actually listened to me. Oh my god.” She said to herself with a wide grin.

“It’s a one off. Don’t act so smug.” He grumbled as they both stepped out of the trees into the open area of the camp. Activity was at a minimum. Shane and Lori were talking in the corner, Carol sat with Sophia by the fire as Glenn fanned the initial flames. Andrea was atop of the RV while Dale was at the food station. Jess turned to Daryl with her squirrel gripped in her hand by its tail.

“Thank you. For taking me out.” She said sincerely.

“You’re welcome.” He said with a nod.

It was a clear and sincere acceptance and strangely polite for him. But she appreciated it all the same. He intended to follow it up with an invitation to do the same the next day, but something shattered his plan.

“Thank you for taking me out Daryl I love youuuuu!” A high-pitched voice mocked from behind them.

Daryl whirled around and locked his sights on Sarah.

“What’s up? You jealous or somethin?! Huh?” He raged as he stormed towards them. Jess managed to grab one of his arms to stop him but she shrugged her off and told her in no uncertain terms that she was going to let him say his piece.

”I should ram this squirrel down her throat” Jess said under her breath.

Daryl’s rage was evidently scaring Sarah into submission to an extent. When he stopped in front of her and loomed over as she perched on a tree stump, his eyes narrowed and Jodie, who was sat beside Sarah, instinctively moved away and stood nearby like the true coward she was.

“You deaf as well as stupid?” He seethed.

“N-no.” She said with an air of fake confidence..

“You wouldn’t wanna go out there anyways, I’d feed ya skinny ass to the Walkers before the heat melts that plastic shit in ya face.” He hissed. “You got a thing for Rednecks? That why ya jealous?”

“No”

“Funny. Ain’t what I’ve seen.”

“Don’t you dare.” Sarah warned

“C’mere. I gotta tell ya somethin.” He leaned closer, curling his index finger at her and gesturing for her to move forwards. She refused, so he defiantly positioned his face by her ear. “Threatenin’ me ain’t wise, bitch. Not with what I saw ya doin with my brother in the woods.”

“You didn’t see anything. I wasn’t doing anything.” She protested through gritted teeth.

He moved back slightly, looking right at her. His lip curling in disgust. He hated girls like Sarah and Jodie as much as Jess seemed to. He too had endured their persecution at high school.

“Harder, Merle. Harder.” He mocked quietly adapting his voice and making it higher-pitched.

Sarah’s face twisted into pure panic.

“Oh my god. Shut your mouth. You some kind of pervert?” She fumed, quickly looking over her shoulder at a petrified Jodie, stood hugging herself and biting her nails.

“Nah, that’s Merle. But ya know that already, don’t ya?” He leaned close to her again, hearing her draw in a jagged breath. “Maybe next time he’s balls deep in ya, you should keep it down. Just a suggestion.”

Jess was impressed at his ability to render them both silent and reasonably terrified in seconds and she only wished she could do the same. His comment regarding Sarah’s badly executed lip fillers had almost made her bellow with laughter. But she exercised some restraint and watched on with dignity. Then came his graphic ridicule of her sexual activity with Merle in the woods. She hadn’t seen this side to him. Spiteful and savage and she had felt a twinge of discomfort at his brash and crude references. However, she struggled to find a reason why it wasn’t justified and decided that it all boiled down to the fact that Sarah shouldn’t be dishing it out if she couldn't take it.

It was some time before Daryl finally backed down after an intense stare off between then, but when he did, Sarah sat motionless and humiliated in her spot, her hands clasped in her lap and her jaw pulled tight.

“C’mon” Daryl said to Jess as he passed “let’s cook this shit up.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I think I have a crush on him. I’m so pissed at myself. Why do I always like guys that wouldn’t look at me twice?! Who am I trying to kid? No one looks at me twice anyway. Suppose I’ll just have to window shop, as usual. The world ended. Only a few survived and my brain thinks it’s an appropriate time to develop a crush on someone. It seems it’s been noticed by the twisted sisters too. No doubt I’ll have to endure more mockery at their hands. Or maybe What Daryl said to Sarah will make her think twice in the future. I don’t know. It was kind of…hot. Watching him shut her up like that. I can only hope it’s stays with her and she leaves us alone. Us. That’s strange. Me. Leave me alone.

Sometimes, I feel like they’re how I’m supposed to be. Maybe if I were more like them, things would be easier. Are they roses and I’m just a Dandelion? Roses may have thorns but if you breathe in instead of out at a Dandelion, it’ll choke you.

Choosing to sit with Rick and Carl after everyone had eaten, Jess jotted down words in her journal, tilting it to avoid Carl’s curious gaze. After weeks at the camp, Jess concluded that the cop next to her and his young son were actually quite nice company and decent conversation in the late evening hours when the sun would set and she’d start to look forward to retreating to the top of the RV with someone who had become her favorite individual to be around. Daryl.

Glenn and T-dog sat on the other side of Jess, with Andrea beside them, Dale on the RV and Merle next to Daryl, who was positioned square in her sightline when she looked up. He carved bolts and sharpened his hunting knife while Carl, Rick and Jess conversed quietly between themselves.

Merle nudged his brothers arm and Daryl’s hands stilled, his knife poised and still over a rock in case he sliced his hand off as a result of Merle’s careless action.

“Hey, Darlina. What ya say we head into the city at some point? Pick us up a little whiskey for these cold nights.”

“City’s full of walkers. Ain’t worth it.” Daryl replied with a shake of his head.

“Ahh, don’t be no sissy! Be in and out faster’n a bat outta hell.” Merle reasoned.

It was the worst idea Daryl had heard in a long time. In fact, the last bad idea he’d heard had also come from Merle and all the bad ideas before that. A pattern had formed and Daryl was no longer interested in being involved in any of his big brothers hairbrained and dangerous schemes.

“Yeah, maybe.” He mumbled in an attempt to quieten him.

Rick, who had overheard what was said, lifted his head from watching his son sitting on the floor next to Jess.

“It’s wise to keep a clear head right now. you both know Walkers are working their way up the mountains” He offered.

Merle stood up. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, the ash from the end flittering down from the orange end like confetti.

“Yo, Sherriff good boy? This don’t concern you” Merle snapped with a point of his finger. In a second, he was gone, vanished into the approaching darkness and not a single soul sat around the fire cared where.  

Rick sighed and looked sideways at Jess, who was offering him a sympathetic smile as she turned a page in her journal and carried on scribbling.

“What are you writing?” He asked.

“Nothing exciting. Haikus.” She muttered. Making a mistake on the page, she scribbled it out, her tongue emerging from the corner of her mouth in concentration.

“Haikus” Rick repeated.

“Dad, a Haiku is a short, Japanese poem that has a 5-7-5 syllable rule.” Carl interrupted. Rick was more than aware of what a Haiku was, but decided to humor his son anyway and presented his best, faked surprised look.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Jess grinned at Carl.

“I see. Can we hear one?” Rick asked.

Jess never shared any of the fruits of her labor when she was writing, always finding it too personal and revealing to read out to anyone, let alone people she hadn’t known all that long. She was no Haiku expert, nor was she all that into them, but the short, direct nature of them was both an appealing hurdle for her to overcome and something that keep her mind sharp.

“Oh, I don’t know…” She mused.

“Yeah! Please?” Carl begged, shifting around so he could peer at her with inquisitive eyes.

Daryl looked up from across the fire and paused his task. He slid his knife back into its holster and leaned against the wooden box behind him, bending one leg and draping an arm over it.  

“Uh… OK. sure.” Jess reluctantly agreed. She cleared her throat and tried to speak without her voice shaking. Suddenly feeling like she was stood up at the front of class at high school with a room full of judgement staring right back at her. But she wasn’t at high school, this was different and the young boy on tenterhooks in front of her was so enthusiastic, she felt too bad to decline.

“I stand taller to

Overcome the shadows

Of those who doubt me.”

Her cheeks reddened and she stared at her handwriting on the page, noticing one letter ‘a’ that wasn’t quite joined up enough. The silence around her was deafening.

“That’s… personal.” Rick remarked “but good. I mean, I don’t know what I’m talking about but-”

“-it is good. I think it’s good.” Carl affirms. “You should write more of those.”

His encouragement was endearing and she could only hope that his happy demeanor would continue, despite their dire situation.

“Thanks.” She muttered bashfully as she drew a star in the corner of the page.

“Should write a Haiku for everyone.” Glenn suggested from her other side. “Merle’s would be interesting, that’s for sure”

He was right. What could she say about Merle? With an out of the blue surge of confidence, she wrote down what was in her head, smirking at the words on the page and giving Glenn a quick wink. Before sharing her Haiku, she checked that Merle was well out of earshot or she would have some serious explaining to do.

“Bug zapper becomes

Merle’s entertainment after

TV repossessed.”

Nervous giggles filtered through the group around the fire as most of them also checked over their shoulders to make sure Merle wasn’t present. Jess scanned the laughing faces to see Daryl dip his head and smile into his lap. A rush of pride and self-satisfaction surged through her at the thought that she’d managed to make at least five people laugh, including the brother of the man she was making fun of and the person she had developed a crush on.

As the chuckling subsided, Daryl tilted his head back and rested a cigarette between his lips. Lighting it, his eyes never left hers and she began to wonder what he was doing and how strange it must have looked to everyone else. Luckily, no one was paying them any mind. Crickets chirped in the surrounding long grass in the tree line and the chilled, nightly breeze arrived, Andrea pulled her jacket closer around her and shivered.

“Bout me?” Daryl rasped.

The group fell silent, all exchanging intrigued glances. Jess stifled a huge grin, knowing it was quite something for him to pipe up in a social situation like this and put himself in the spotlight.

“OK.” She giggled “Daryl…. Lets see.” She began to write on the page again as the others grinned and waited for the most anticipated Haiku of what had become the nights entertainment. When Jess was ready, she flashed him a wide, perfectly white smile and the brightness and life in her eyes seemed to hit him like a lightning bolt.

“Daryl. Person who

Lacks class but enjoys a life

Without rich folks rules”

Rick couldn’t help but snort with laughter along with Carl. Jess joined them and had to build up the bravery to look back at Daryl. When she did, she saw him pick up a smell pebble and throw it at her. It bounced off her sneaker and skittered across the dirt. But his smile was missed with a blink, wanting to hide how amused he really was from those around him.

“Dunno whatcha talkin’ ‘bout. I got class”, He muttered.

“I have more class in my little finger” Andrea commented.

Instead of acknowledging Andrea, he continued to focus on the Haiku writing girl in the vintage Batgirl T-shirt that was able to make him feel more like himself than he ever did before. She was self-aware, able to make fun of herself, different and smart and she was as much of a mystery to him as he was to her. Neither one of them had experienced such an unconventional friendship with a person that under normal circumstances, they never would have crossed paths with anyway. But as she watched him with her unassuming, innocent and dark features, it dawned on him. Something he never thought about anyone. Ever. She was pretty.

For the first time in as far back as he could remember, he’d had a decent and enjoyable day. Not only was he able to do what he loved most and did most days, he was able to share it with someone that genuinely wanted to learn something from him and respected his ways of doing things. She wasn’t Merle, inpatient and arrogant. She was receptive, fascinated and soaked up information quicker than he’d expected. He was looking forward to sitting with her on the RV after dark.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

[puppy-the-mask]

Serval of Bone Pt.2

I’ve been holding this for a bit actually, We finally get to the Skeles!

Sans and Cerulean weren't necessarily against the trip their siblings had planned to the outlands, but if you asked them if they’d rather stay home and veg on the couch where grillbys was just a block or two away then they knew their answer.

For now their siblings had dragged them to the rural town 4 days early, ‘TO HAVE TIME TO GET OUR TOURISTING OUT’ so they had to settle for a local bar while the younger two were securing a place to stay incognito. 

Walking in the place was warm, welcoming, and already smelled great. It felt weird suddenly being the only monsters around, the twins could almost imagine that some of grillby’s patrons were around in all the bar chatter but it was painfully obvious that this particular bar’s drunk was not one they were familiar with. 

The guy slung his arm around Sans’ shoulders with a delighted slur

“Shervle! You neva sit down! ya finely ‘cide to join us?” Sans jolted, maybe this was a bad idea. He vaguely registered a sigh before the bartender spoke up

“David get’cher arm of them, that ain’t Serval. I’m so so-”

“Wacha mean dis aint Shur? ‘S all bone!” The twins shared a look before sans tried to shrug out of the man’s embrace

“uh buddy, don’t know what to tell ya but I’m not your friend.” The drunk looked at him with eyes wide as saucers

“Whaddya mean yer nt servul???” 

While her brother was dealing with the drunk Lean heard the door open and someone sigh, looking back she saw someone new. They were wearing a hood over their head but she caught a good look at them when they raised a skeletal hand to their face. They were all bones, which didn’t make any sense. There weren’t supposed to be any other monsters in this area. She caught sight of turquoise eyelights as they walked over and grabbed the man, not even stopping to look at the duo before hauling him out the door. 

“who was that?” Lean snapped out of her trance at her brother’s question. 

The bartender sighed “I’m sorry ‘bout that folks. The one with too much to drink was David, one of our regulars.” 

“what about the other one?” She tried to hide her intrigue but the bartender just grinned at her, leaning down and nodding towards the door

“That was Serval, idiot should’ve watched what he was wishin for.” She went over their orders before heading to the back, leaving the skeletons at the bar.

“lean did you see what they were wearing?”

“did you see their bone structure!?” Sans looked at her like she’d grown another head before sighing at her

“i’m gonna need a drink aren’t i?” Cerulean gasped as Sans shoved at her, not even letting her defend herself. At least until she rapidly tapped at his arm to look over. He just kept staring at her like a crazy person. 

They were startled when they heard the bartender’s voice from the back shouting. “We know yer here Serv, dramatic entrance and all. Feel free to come inside if you get tired of standing by the door all night!”

They both looked over, Your face was still obscured but when you nodded the hood shifted and Sans was just able to see the side of your mandible before you turned and silently made your way to the door

They both gave you a once over while you walked, noting all the places that exposed nothing but bones. Once the door closed behind you they looked back to each other. 

“i see what you mean” 

“right!” Just in time, their orders came back.

“they’re a skeleton?” Lean nodded before being interrupted 

“Ah, you saw?” the bartender was leaning on the bar off to the side, she was looking over at them with a grin “Sorry to butt in on your conversation, but i’m assuming you’re still caught up on our dear bouncer out there. Personally don’t see what’s so surprising considering you’re both all bones too”

“we just weren't expecting it, we didn’t think any monsters lived out here”

“They don’t” She walked away to take another order, making the twins wonder if mayhaps this is how it feels being on the other end of unnecessarily cryptic bullshit. 

-----------------------------------------------

Poppy huffed as she looked out the alley behind her. Their freedom from their so called guards was short lived and they’d been had by morning. Now they were running all around town to get what little looks they could before the persistent humans and monsters caught them. They'd already gotten Sans and Cerulean.

“Sister Look!” She looked to where Papyrus was pointing, it was a storefront and through the window were issues upon issues of comic books. How did they get those!? 

There was a board above the doorway, ‘Wordless Wonders Library’ painted onto it. They looked at each other and with mirrored grins the twins dashed inside. 

---------------------------------------

Scarf was deep into her book so when the front door burst open she nearly fell off her stool. Her eyes shot up to the intruders and was stunned to find a pair of tall skeletons excitedly chatting about her comic book selection. 

She sighed through her nose and felt her eyes crinkle in amusement. You were upstairs getting chores done at the moment and probably heard the door, she sent you a text that it was just some overly excited customers before looking back up at them. 

She was pleasantly surprised to find that one of them had approached the desk. 

“HELLO! Ehem- Sorry, Hello! We’re Sorry If We Startled You, We Didn’t Think There Would Be A Place Like This Out Here.” Their voice sounded male, and using what little anatomical knowledge she had Scarf put together that this skeleton was likely a dude. She waved off his worry, she was always happy to see people excited to read!

“PAPS! THEY HAVE THE ISSUE YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR!” His companion waved him over from the other side of the library and his sockets went wide as he raced back over

“WAIT REALLY!?” Scarf would have laughed, instead letting out an amused huff of air and going back to her book. She couldn’t help but look up at the duo though, she wondered how you’d react when you came down from the apartment. You were the only skeleton for miles and suddenly more show up? She wondered if they had similar circumstances to you or if they were monsters. 

Actually, weren’t the monster mascots supposed to be skeletons? Scarf covered her face with a hand. No way, had they come early? If they had you would've been notified, which means they’d snuck out. Oh stars she could already imagine it! Out the window with a rope made of sheets like some dramatic teenage Rapunzels!!!

Scarf couldn’t hold back her giggles, trying to muffle them with her namesake. She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked over to see you holding up your phone

‘Whats so funny?’ She took it from you and shakily replied

‘They snuck out early!!!’ You looked at the message with a confused tilt of the head, not having brows to quirk.

“Oh Look! They Have Manga Too! Alphys Would Love This!” Scarf giggled even more after getting a look at your face. Your eyelights had gone out and you’d blanked. 

Your bones rattled as your shoulders shook and your hand shot up to stop your snickers. You were desperately trying to look like you were upset at the fact that your wards had shown up on your doorstep without knowing, but it was just too funny! 

---------------------------------------

Papyrus was looking for any area of the shop to sit and read, but he couldn’t tell which doors he was allowed through. One of them was labeled “Fabric and Liches Only” so he assumed that was off limits but he wasn’t sure about the unmarked ones. 

He looked over at the front desk to ask the person there and found that someone else had joined them. Papyrus was a bit confused, him, his siblings, and their guards were the only monsters that had been allowed out of the cities but there was a skeleton right in front of him! And from the looks of it you knew the librarian so you’d have to have been here awhile. 

He looked over at his sister, she had a stack of books in one hand and was still looking through the shelves. Oh Well, I’m Sure We Can Ask Them About Themself Later.

Papyrus walked over to the front desk, the lady with the scarf tapping you on the shoulder as you cleared your throat and turned to look at him. You nodded at him and he took it as a sign to continue.

“Hello! I Am The Great Papyrus, And The Skeleton Making A Home In Your Shelves Is My Sister Poppy.” Just then he heard a crash and what sounded like an ‘Eep!’ from the back and he winced laughing nervously “We Were Wondering If There Was An Area That We Could Sit And Read?” 

The librarian patted you on the back and nodded towards the back, You sighed and shook your head, taking what looked like a dry erase board from under the desk. 

While you went to help his sister the zombie woman came around the desk and waved him after her, leading him to one of the unmarked doors. She opened it with a key, which she handed to him, and threw open the curtains on the back wall.

It was a small room with a small couch on one wall, a bean bag chair in the corner, two small tables on either side of the couch, a rug in the empty space in the center, a sitting area in the semi circle window area, and a bell right by the door. Outside the window he could see a backyard, most of the area turned into a garden with the patio being a sitting area. 

He only realized he was staring when the nice lady pat him on the arm.

“I Didn’t Realize The Outlands Would Be So Homey!” She seemed happy with his comment, holding herself more confidently, chest puffed in pride before she seemed to realize something. 

She lightly pat her forehead, She picked up the end of her large scarf and repeatedly gestured between it and herself. 

“Scarf???” The lady nodded at him, pointing at herself “You? You’re Scarf?” With another satisfied nod she waved goodbye and walked out of the room, stopping to ring the bell before she left him to read. 

Not long after he sat down on the couch he heard his sister’s voice outside the door. He’d left it open so he looked up from his book to see you pushing her there. She stood outside the door with her hand on her hips, the other still holding her precarious pile of books

“I Told You I’d Help! I’ve Got It!” You just sent her a deadpan stare. Showing her something written on the whiteboard. “But I Still Made The Mess! At Least Let Me Help!” You just shook your head and pointed to the books in her hand then to the room. 

Papyrus waved when Poppy looked into the room, meanwhile you were writing a new message. When his sister looked back, her resolve to help seemed to crumble. “You’re Sure?” You nodded, holding the board even closer to emphasize whatever point you were making.

Poppy sighed, puffing her cheeks as much as a skeleton could, and walked into the room. She set down her pile by the window and sat down, looking back at you with a ‘There, You Happy?’ kind of look. You just seemed satisfied, nodding with a prideful air before waving to him and walking back to the back of the library. 

Papyrus waited a few seconds before looking over at his sister, who was hiding in a book.

“Well?” 

“She Wouldn’t Let Me Help!” She threw her hands up and flopped down dramatically across the window nook. 

[undertale-anomaly20]

Sooner or later you're gonna be mine x chubby! Reader

Chapter 1: The waitress and the mobster

Oh God, I was hearin da rumors, but I didnt believe hed actually do it. As if our town wasnt a big miserable wasteland of violence, misery and murder already, now hes actually welcomin their kind into it as well.

Frisk paused, her hairbrush in mid-stroke, as she heard the piano man grumble crudely under his breath. She hadnt sang in this club before and truth be told, it didnt have a great dressing room for performers to get all dolled up as many owners put it, so Frisk took it upon herself to dress up in the ladies bathroom.

After putting on her shimmery low-cut baby-blue dress and applying all that heavy makeup to her face, she exited the bathroom, leaving her aftershow clothes in one of the broken stalls and began brushing her hair on stage. It didnt take much to style it, which was one of the main reason why Frisk had cut it short into a bob hairstyle. One less stupid thing she had to worry about before she got on stage. Just brush it till it looks neat, put a flower in it and the crowds still think you look like a million bucks.

Not that Frisk cared too much about what her fans thought of her. All she wanted to do was sing, get paid and go home before she saw another fight break out between the members of her audience. Gang members erupting into violent and bloody fights in the middle of her songs were becoming more and more common over the last few months. And what were these fights over? Anything really. Gang members entering other gang territory, drug deals gone bad, gun deals wrong horribly bad. It didnt matter. The result was always the same: somebody would be leaving in a body bag.

Frisk hadnt gotten used to it, but she had definitely become quicker with dodging flying bullets and pieces of furniture that came her way.

She tried to deny it when she was younger, but now it was obvious. Her once pretty city was quickly sinking into corruption thanks largely to the mob groups that were overtaking large areas of her city. The dons and high-class mobsters ran everything from the small mom and pop stores to the police force. Even the citys officials were nothing more than corrupt individuals in nice suits with clean smiles. The good decent poor folks suffered the most, having to pay out protection fees but there were always ways to make money.

Everybody had a price. Everybody could endure or change themselves for money. Frisk knew. To her despair, she watched a number of her long-time friends get lost in the world of easy money and quick deaths. She had been to more funerals than birthdays parties this year alone. She could never blame them though.

Well everybody except her sister, (name).

(name) was one of the only people she could really trust and was one of the few people uncorrupted by this hell hole of a city. As children the both of them knew nothing but love and kindness with (name), being older by a few years, looking after her and protecting her even as the years had gone by she never stopped standing up for her and always flashing that big beautiful smile telling her 'it's gonna be ok' even if everything wasn't.

Frisk smiled at the though of her sister being there for her every step of the way in her life a little anoying but what was she to do (name) was very stubborn her big (eye colour) eyes that still held a little glimmer like she did when she was younger, her long thick (hair colour) hair that always seemed to shine no matter what the lighting was, her (skin colour) skin that alway had one or two burise on it and her body was alwasy as plump and smooth as ever. not to say her sister was overweight drastically but she tended to look down on herself at her body shape, even though she was what the pigs f this city considered 'fat' she had her curvy outline a bit, she had a bit above average size bust, plump lips and a big behind.

The world was going through a depression after all. And Frisk herself was not exactly a wealthy professional singer. Right now her gigs were seedy clubs with even seedier owners, whose businesses reeked of cigar smoke and strong booze and no matter how many times Frisk showered the smell seemed to linger.

And her nightly audiences were the lowest class of criminals. Not that Frisk judged on them on poverty levels. In fact, most of the best people she knew were struggling to get by. But when it all came down to the wire a rich mobster was just as bad as his poor lackey. Both types murder for money and power and both types will harm the innocent to get what they want.

Frisk really needed to get out. She just hadnt saved enough money yet. She may have been a popular singer in these types of bars, but the pay wasnt great. She made just enough to pay for her crappy apartment, her bills and the protection fee her local police force demanded of its residents.

The piano man saw her baffled look and pulled back the curtain even further so she could get a good look at her audience for the night.

She squinted through the cigarette smoke that lightly covered the many faces of her audience and tried to see what he was moaning about.

Look at the last table in the back. Youll see what Im talking about, toots.

Frisk did and gasped aloud. The piano man chuckled, letting her know she was indeed seeing what she was thought she was seeing.

Seeing Don Dee was a shock in itself. Even small fish like Frisk knew who he was just by looking at him. A top dog, a big shot, a huge fish...and the fact that he was sitting in this piece of shit of a bar was astounding in itself. The man was known for class and expensive taste. The suit he was wearing outshined all the cheap ones that almost all the other club patrons were wearing.

But the don being here wasnt the most shocking part. The most shocking part was his companion. The gentleman sitting beside the Don was...not from the city to say the least. And if he had entered the club by himself, he would have been killed instantly. But sitting with the Don made him untouchable. In fact, most patrons were going out of their way not to stare at him.

Say, is he- Frisk began, but stopped when the musician laughed again.

Yep. The Don himself is invitin monsters in the operation now. Can you believe that, toots? Disgustin monsters. Pfft...hes makin a mistake is what hes doin. Gonna lose all that respect. Monsters..Now this town really has sank as low as it can go.

Frisk frowned at his choice of words, and the effect they had on her, but continued to stare, even though she felt a little bad doing it. both her and (name) knew that people who differed from theri own race and in this case species shouldnt be stared at like they were some kind of spectacle, but Frisk really couldnt help herself.

Sure she heard all about the monsters that lived in the neighboring cities miles away from her own, and sure she knew they looked different from humans and their customs and politics were worlds apart from human, but to actually see one was...well it was something that deserved a second glance.

He was a massive monster. He was taller than any human Frisk had ever seen and he was wide too. Not fat, but there was no denying how incredibly powerful he looked. He made the Dons bodyguards look like little boys.

And his suit was even more impressive than the Dons if that were possible. His jacket, fedora hat and trousers were black, while his waist coat was an eye-catching red. Frisk wasnt too fond of that color, unless it was on her sister, but she had to admit the monster had style. A fat cigar was in his teeth and the smoke coming from it was strange. It wasnt gray smoke. It was red smoke and curled in unusual designs before it disappeared.

But his size and clothing were nothing compared to what he actually looked like. He had a huge smile on his face and despite the dimmed lights, Frisk saw a glimmering gold tooth flashing in his mouth every time the skeleton turned his head.

Out of the corner of her eyes she caught the flash of pink in the light and turned her attention towards the colour to see it was a pink heart hair pin. only one person she knew had that pin and it just so happened to be her sister that was the owner of said pin. her sister was wearing the standered waitress uniform aswell as having her hair tied into a high bun with the exeption of a few strands that fell in front of her face with that sweet smile on her face but Frisk knew it was fake she knew her sister hated dealing with these 'murdering pricks' as (name) liked to call them but they both needed the money and even with friks singing it's not enough.

Frisk watches her sister carrying a tray of alcohol towards Don Dees table. her heart practically stopped in worry for her sister as she watched her place the glass fill with the nasty brew in front of the don and a nother in front of the monster before walking away.

Damn freak, the piano man muttered and lowered the curtain.

Before the cheap bright red curtain could blocked her view, Frisk felt her heart jump in her throat. At the last second the skeleton turned his head to look where her sister was who, in turn, was looking back at him.

He took the cigar out of his mouth with two of his large bony fingers and winked at her. (name) quickly turned away with her head down before the curtain fell into place. That look...Frisk didnt understand why his friendly little gesture towards her sister sent a cold chill down her spine, but she tried to quickly dismissed it.

It doesnt matter, she thought to herself. Im sure (name)s not gonna talk to him if she can help it.

The piano man sat down at his piano, cracking his fingers and looking at Frisk. She hated the way his eyes wandered from her face and rested on her breasts. She glared at him, covering her chest with her arms. The man just shrugged coolly, completely unbothered.

Hey, I aint touching em toots. No law against lookin.

both her and her sister needed to get out of this city. Go somewhere nicer where smoke from cigarettes and guns didnt greet them every second of everyday. Where people actually cared if another person was killed. Maybe when she had enough saved up she could move to the country and where her sister wouldn't come home with brusies and bruised knuckles every week and that painful look in her eye that tells her 'I can't keep this up for much longer' as happy as her sister tried to be she wasn't dumb (name) had the same attitude as Frisk toward the city folk who misreated her and gave them the same amount that they gave her, absolutly none. Maybe they could live in a pretty cottage and start a garden. She couldnt remember the last time she saw a flower growing outside and she doubt that (name) could either.

She smiled faintly. Her mother always talked about starting a garden when Frisk was really little and-

But going back to our conversation, the Don really is makin a mistake. As soon as we let one monster in, more are gonna come. Just you wait. Im mean look at what happened when we started lettin the darkies in-

Frisk felt a shot of anger bloom in her chest.

Why dont you keep those disgusting thoughts to yourself and get ready for the show? Since the Don is here we cant afford you screwing things up. Word around the grapevine is that you arent the cream of the crop when it comes to playing that thing.

It was a lie of course. Frisk knew nothing about this man, but that didnt stop her from feeling a sort of smug satisfaction enter her as the piano mans face changed from cocky and arrogant to enraged and disgusted.

Goddamn, bleedin heart whore, he muttered loud enough for her to hear, but low enough so nobody else could here. You and your type are the reason why there are so much problems in this world. You treat the inferior a certain way and suddenly they start demandin to be treated that way by everybody…

Frisk smiled and continued brushing her hair, humming the songs she was going to sing for the audience tonight. It was always nice to be told that. Whenever somebody told her that or something similar to that, Frisk couldnt help but feel like she was more than just some seedy bar singer who sang for murderers and criminals.

The piano man and her didnt speak again and Frisk continued to brush her hair until the audience started to quiet down.

Showtime , Frisk thought grimly, no longer excited about being on stage.

The curtain parted and the horrible spotlight that hit her was nearly blinding, but before she could adjust to it, the piano started playing.

She sang the first song with ease and much to her disappointment the piano man didnt make one mistake. Guy knew his instrument. Too bad he was a racist prick.

For the most part, Frisk and (name) loved musicians. All that passion being played through their fingers or mouths and whenever either of them spoke to them they always wanted to be something more than what they were. Just like her, they dreamt of getting out of the city and being somewhere safe and pretty.

At one point when Frisk was younger and still wanted to make singing her lifes career she would dream of marrying a gentle musician. The two of them would become famous and sing at only the best clubs and have children who loved music and would sing and play too and-

Frisk never would have thought in a million years that she would grow to hate the talent she once cherished. The spotlight was always too bright, the places always reeked of blood and booze and the applause was laced with lewd comments about her body.

(name) had a more possible dream. As a child all she wanted was to settle down with a man and have children who she would sing lullabys to and fill her home with music and love but as she grew her body changed and her heart sank further down at every negative comment made her way.

She was too weak for this city. She knew, but thankfully none of these cruel people knew it. Her dad once told her that if you show any weakness to people like mobsters and criminals they would eat you alive. She had no doubt he had been correct. when Kailyn was told this she pu all her energy into making sure none of these corrupted bastards could do a damn thing to her sister.

Frisk longed for the day where her and (name) would sing for hours on end with smiles in their hearts, laughing at everything but the thing Frisk missed most was her sisters singing. Frisk knew as a child her sister had the better voice andbut she didn't mind if anything she worked hard to be just like her but this damn cities corrupted men and women with there words of hate and jelousy...(name) had done her best to protect Frisk from those words but she, herself, had been exposed to those words for too long and all those negatice comments about her apperance, as if there was anything wrong with how she looked, got to her making her do what those bastards wanted her to do.

Shut up.

After her first song ended, the applause was loud and hard. Frisk forced a smile on her face and blew a kiss into the crowd.

Now adjusted to the blinding light she looked at her audience her sisters face smiling up at her was one of the first she saw. Gray smoke blurred their faces but almost instantly her eyes were drawn to the skeletons red smoke. She looked at him and the look he was giving back to her nearly took her breath away. It was so intense. So...extreme and he never looked down or away from her.

Even when the Don was talking to him quietly about whatever crime-ridden business they had together, the skeleton would respond but never break his gaze away.

Frisk swallowed before she spoke.

Such a lovely crowd here tonight and I would like to take this opportunity to personally thank Mr. Dee for honoring me with his presence and tolerating my cat-screeching I like to call singing.

A rough round of laughter and applause reached Frisks ears. The old Don waved to the crowds and then offered her a wave as well. Forcing back the vomit and physically battling with herself to keep her smile on her face, Frisk blew a kiss directly at the old man who had killed so many people whether they were guilty or innocent. Whether they were a part of his gang or an innocent bystander.

We really need to get out of this town' Frisk thought as she began her next song.

She almost messed up a few of her notes. That skeletons red eyes had gone black as soon as she blew that kiss to the Don and she was having trouble focusing until she looked to her sister, who was on break watching her with that big ole smile she loved, then it seemed easier to sing knowing her sister could sit and watch like she did when the were children

don't worry sis, for once, I'm gonna be the one to save ya'

_____________________________________________________________________

(name)s side

(name) watched as the partons of the bar laughed to each other some of them were good people others not so much. there were those who were friendly, kind and nice those were the rare patrons that popped in once in a while and then there were the assholes hat showed up every god damn day and the degrading remarks they make at her or behind her back annoyed her more often than not but the lewd and disgusting remarks and cat calls they directed towards her younger sister made her blood boil.

oh how she wanted to bash them all over the head with their bottles but she knew better if she acted upon her wishes not only would it cost her the job she worked hard to get it would cost Frisk her job. she just smiled sweetly and agreed with the patrons to keep them happy no matter how much it sickened her to do so.

"hey doll! go another order for ya!" (name) turned to her boss ready to retreive her latest order just as she was about to reach for it she notied her boss looked nervous but why? this man is the most intimidating person she knows that is a good person at heart he's aken on multiple drunken patrons at once so what could sacre this man so bad that he was white as a ghost then it clicked only one person in the bar currently that would reduce this man to a fearful state like this was Don Dee.

(name) tried to keep calm and remembered why she worked here. for Frisk her baby sister she picked up the tray with both hands and made her way to the table. sure don dee made her nervous who wouldn't be around a man that could kill you with but a wave of his hand but once she was nearing the table her eyes weren't on the don but on the monster that sat nex to him.

He was a massive monster. He was taller than any human (name) had ever seen and he was wide too. Not fat, but there was no denying how incredibly powerful he looked. He made the Dons bodyguards look like little boys and his suit was even more impressive than the Dons if that were possible. His jacket, fedora hat and trousers were black, while his waist coat was an eye-catching red. Frisk wasnt too fond of that color, but she had to admit the monster had style. A fat cigar was in his teeth and the smoke coming from it was strange. It wasnt gray smoke. It was red smoke and curled in unusual designs before it disappeared.

But his size and clothing were nothing compared to what he actually looked like. He had a huge smile on his face and despite the dimmed lights, (name) saw a glimmering gold tooth flashing in his mouth every time the skeleton turned his head. In all honesty (name) thought the monster had some sort of charm to him shaking her head she made it to the table and placed the disgusting brew in front of the don making sure to smile sweetly then moved onto the monster. oh how she hated how people used that word as an insult spitting it out of their mouths like it was venom but what could you do she placed the small glass in front of him and smiled walking away she didn' make it that far before she felt eyes on her.

she turned around to meet the monsters red eye light gaze they were mesmorising, beautiful even, she felt like she couldn't look away he took the cigar out of his mouth with two of his large bony fingers and winked at her. (name) quickly turned away with her head down embarassed at being caught then sat down calling for her break.

Frisk scurried off stage after she finished her songs, pausing only briefly to wave at the handsome jazz band that was scheduled to play right after her. They returned the wave and started to do some playful and very cute cat-calling that wasnt lewd or vulgar at all her eyes soon found her sister waiting for her with her duffle bag in hand looks like she finished early.

both girls smiled to themsleves as they entered the empty bathroom, all the women in the audience have been waiting for that jazz band to play. They were becoming very popular and no doubt would make it big, and Frisk went into the broken stall where she left her clothes while (name) went into one of the wrking ones to change

Still some good guys out there' Frisk thought as she took off her painfully tight blue dress and put on her more preferred one. The fabric of her baggy blue and pink sweater dress was a warm and welcomed change from the dress she just had on.

She stuff the blue dress in her purse without a care and walked out of the stall to meet up with (name) who was wearing a baggy dress sweater and long skirt.

(name) turned around and snorted "tryin to give clowns a run for their money, sis?" she joked. Dont get it wrong, Frisk didnt mind some make-up every once in awhile, but the rouge on her cheeks was too bright. Her blue eye-shadow was too heavy and her red lipstick was too much. But thats the club owners always wanted. Thats what the men in her audience wanted.

With a frustrated growl she turned on the sink, took a handful of soap, mixed it with water and began scrubbing her face viciously. We need to get out of here, Frisk thought of the millionth time as she continued to scrub her face until her skin turned red while (name) brushed out her long hair from its up do taking out each pin and tie in it. "great job as always with the singin' sis. practically had the attention of everyone in the room" Frisk smiled at her sisters compliment "thanks but...it would have been better if you were up there with me" (name) sighed "sorry but no it's been too long and I'm the waitress you're the singer"

Niether of them heard the bathroom door open so when they heard the heavy footsteps they turned towards the noise The soap and water dripped from Frisks face and onto her dress as she stared at the massive skeleton who was blocking the exit as well as (name) moving the hair from her eyes. Frsik didnt even realize her mouth was open until the taste of bitter and slippery liquid soap burned her tongue. She quickly closed her lips and backed away from the skeleton.

His hands were in his pockets as he looked (name) up and down, his smile growing by the second. His gold tooth glittered menacingly against the bathroom lights. He took a step towards them.

No...please Frisk thought as she held her hands up in a weak attempt to create some kind of barrier between herself and the monster that was at least two heads taller than her while (name) took a step forwad ready to fight her eyes narrowed.

There was only one reason why a straight man would enter the womens bathroom and Frisk learned what it was when she first starting singing. The man who had attacked was big too. He had grabbed her and shoved her up against the stalls doors and would have done so much more if it hadnt been for a (name) looking for Frisk. that was the day Frisk saw for the first time her big sisters anger in full force the anger in her eyes was just terrifying. blood flying, bloody fists the man left a bloody pulp as one of the women comming in to use the rest room ran to get security to "remove" the man while Frisk held onto her sister beggin her to stop that he had enough.

Frisk opened her mouth to scream for help, but the music from the jazz band blasted through the door, letting Frisk know that her chance for calling for help and actually having someone hear her was gone.

She looked up at him and tried to smile at him. She didnt know what she was gonna say to try and talk him out of the thing he was going to do to her. And through her mind-numbing fear she actually took a second to wondered how a skeleton could do something like that. But she wasnt curious enough to find out.

Look mister, I dont want any trouble-

Frisk stopped her sentence, groaning in fear as the skeleton took his hands out of his pockets and reached into his jacket.

"Frisk I think I left my purse behind the bar would you mind going and looking for it?"

To be continued....

(hey guys this took a lot of courage for me to post this. It's a more updated version than in quotev and watt pad just a few tweeks. I hope you all enjoy this and let me know in the comments how you feel about this)

[ravencromwell]

On Rage and Complexity interwoven with disability and queerness as filtered through Sarah Gailey's "maybe novel"

I've drifted into posting much of my more personal/metaish content on my dreamwidth In an effort to try and be better about cross-posting, thought I'd put a bit of meta up here first for a change.

We lament, often and at great length, about the kind of tales we'd like to see: with more diverse characters, yes, but also well-rounded diverse characters. As Liz Bourke concisely opined recently :

It’s troubling, sometimes, how much the issue of “good representation”—and the arguments around it—slides towards a pervasive sense that creators must depict people who are good and right and do right. It’s not necessarily an explicit dictate, but there’s an unspoken undercurrent, a sense that to portray ugliness, unlikeability, fury—to portray people who have responded to suffering with cruelty and bitterness and rage—is to be complicit in one’s own vilification. And to be vulnerable. Justify your existence is the sea we swim in, always against the current.

To be unmarked by compromise, to be without sharp edges that sometimes cut even when you don’t want them to—because the world is what it is, and sometimes what it is teaches you that the best defence against being hurt by cruelty is a really quick offense—is to either be very young or hardly human. But when we come to fictional portrayals, well… As you know, Bob, Bob gets to be seen as a difficult genius, where Alice is seen as a bitch or a Mary Sue.

And as insightful as that essay is, I'd argue that a central factor it overlooks, or doesn't articulate as well as I would like, is that the more intersections of marginalization your identity rests upon, the more that unspoken pressure kicks in. I certainly feel and see it, as both a queer and disabled person, and I have friends who feel that weight even more heavily--that internal voice policing their own writing even stronger when they're brown and/or queer and/or coming from decolonized places; even heavier if/when they and their compatriots are still untangling the effects of colonialism and modern neoimperalism. And so it becomes vitally imperative for all of us, using whatever privilege we have to work in concert to expand what characters can be portrayed in mainstream fiction. And oh, aint that an easy proclamation to make; doing the work, though, is far harder.

So y'all can imagine my overwelming delight when the Bourke essay and twitter convo that sparked it--linked to in essay and so very much worth a scan--dropped on the same week as my introduction to Sarah Gailey's maybe book Every bit of what I read of Gailey's makes my love of her work slowly, steadily increase, but to be perfectly honest, this's probably my favorite thing of hers so far. It's the thing that tugs sharpest at my heart, that I see so much of my own experience reflected in, and it's only two fuckin chapters in But even if Gailey never writes another word of this--for which a large chunk of me will mourn--, it'll still be one of the most special things I've encountered for being, in western lit terms, a masterclass in putting the characters we wanna see in the world. (I insert that caveat because I know well that folks like Viet Thanh Nguyen are doing astonishing, under-appreciated work in nonwestern litfic. But the genres I'm most familiar with, western scifi and fantasy, have a long way to go to catch up.)

There are, so far, four--maybe five? I can't quite tell--characters in this novel. Three of 'em have serious, life-changing disabilities, and one of them is delightfully, tragically queer. And they're all allowed to be wonderfully vicious and complicated. Just look at something like:

Cory Jefferson is a hunched-over curled-up boy with bones too long for his body and a jaw you could use to shovel the ashes out of a fireplace. His chest has the caved-in look that comes with growing tall before you can grow wide, and his hair is long enough to want cutting but not long enough to look like it’s long on purpose. His hoodie sleeves have holes in them, and the bottoms of his jeans are frayed from walking, and all his fingers are missing, cut off at the bottom knuckle a year ago on a night he can’t remember no matter how many Thursdays he spends looking back and forth between Piper and Ethan.

"I think we should go back," Piper says. She’s chewing on her thumb, and Cory is staring at her thumb while she chews on it, probably because that used to be his nervous tic. Piper used to nag him about it.

Piper Durham has a spine as straight as a plumb-line dropped down a well. Her dark hair falls past her shoulders, less straight than it used to be, and with a few strands of white that weren’t there before. She’s thin enough to look hollow, and pale enough to look scared. She wears large black sunglasses with scratched-up lenses. She wears them because they cover up the holes where her eyes used to be, back before the night a year ago that she can’t remember no matter how many Thursdays she spends chewing on her thumb.

"That’s a bad idea,” Cory snaps. “That’s the worst bad idea I’ve ever heard, and every time you bring it up you sound stupider."

"I don’t hear either of you coming up with something smarter,"Piper snaps back, and then she immediately closes her mouth. She’s biting her tongue, literally biting it, you can see her doing it, and then she flinches again and stops doing that, because biting her tongue is even worse than what she said.

Ethan’s hands rise from his lap. After a silent moment, Cory translates for him, so Piper can hear. "Ethan says it’s okay. He says not to worry about it. He says he’s used to people saying stuff like that."

"Sorry," Piper whispers.

Across from her, in his own folding chair, Ethan signs it’s okay again. Cory doesn’t translate this time, and the decision not to translate is a hateful one. He watches with narrowed eyes as Piper, who can’t see Ethan’s hands and will never see them again, returns to chewing on her thumb.

Ethan rests his square-fingered hands on his crossed legs and sits back in his chair, his every movement controlled. Some would call him poised. Some would call him that. He wears dark jeans, like always, and a button-down shirt, like always. His fingernails are short and clean, and his sandy-blonde hair is short and clean, and his shoes are polished and his clothes are pressed. He wears a clear plastic face mask to help heal the skin grafts on his face — his face, which was cut away from his skull in one tidy sheet. He does not speak because he has not had a tongue for a year, not since the night he lost his face, which is a night he can not remember no matter how many Thursdays he spends watching Cory and Piper hate each other.

These are people not made saintly by their experiences, who fuck up and apologize, and honestly still fuck up. But who're trying, in their deeply jaded fashion, to show solidarity after this horrific experience they've all been through. They have so many rough edges between them that it'd be impossible to navigate a room between them without cutting yourself to ribbons. Three disabled characters, never put on pedestals, allowed to be as complex as any able-bodied person. It's something still so astonishingly rare that it brought me to weeping this afternoon and meant more than I can say.

And to have these three disabled characters get language this evocative and gorgeous--to have Ethan dress so sharply! when to so many people disability translates to a disconnect from cultural touchstones like fashion. As someone who loves and wants to adopt men's fashion, that, too, meant so much. Every word of this is just so lush! I can't decide whether it's the description of Piper's spine or Cory's caved-in look that comes from growing tall before you can grow wide I love most as a descriptive passage, but to see disabled characters get this kind of attention is breathtaking.

And then there's this description of queerness, from our resident ghost:

The girls fascinated me in death the same way they had in life. For all my sixteen years alive, I was hypnotized by the way a girl can move through a room fast and subtle, like a secret moving through a church during service. The way girls laughed, the way they wrapped their hands around things they wanted to own, they way their eyes got sharp when they were angry. The way they smelled. Boys always seemed the same to me, all of them echoes of each other, all of them saying the same three sentences over and over again, all of them looking at each other with the same eyes. I could never tell the difference between them, not really. But girls. Girls.

It mattered to me while I was alive, but it didn’t make a difference in the way I lived my life, which was a regret I chewed on when I’d worn my other regrets into pulp. The town was small, and everyone knew everyone, and by the time I knew I wasn’t the only girl who watched girls the way I did, I’d been dead for too long to do anything about it. If I knew then what I know now, maybe I would have said something to Molly Two-tone, whose real name was Molly Tutonne and who had straight black hair that fell between her shoulderblades as black as roofing tar, who had bright green eyes and a laugh that you could hear from a block away. Molly Two-tone, who came to my house after I died and stood in the kitchen and whispered that if I was there and if I could hear her, she wanted me to know that she wished she’d kissed me when she had the chance.

There wasn’t a thing I could do to let her know I’d heard her. All I could do was watch her cry, and then watch her leave, closing the door quiet as she could when she went. She didn’t ever come back again.

God, that description guts me every damn time. There're so many of us for whom that metaphor applies: death can be substituted for disapproval or fear or a million other things that separate us from our queerness. I don't know if there's any way for our ghost to have a happy ending, or even something close to catharsis, but Gailey confronts the mess and complication of queerness in ways I've rarely seen.

And getting back to the original point of marginalized characters not being allowed to be cruel, look at this fucking gem on Piper:

Maybe I knew, when Piper walked in with Cory and Ethan. Maybe I knew she was Piper’s granddaughter. Or maybe I saw Piper and thought, for a breath-held instant, that Molly had come back to see me again. I lost track of time more and more often as the years went on, forgetting sometimes how far I was from my life. Forgetting that it had happened one hundred years before, and not just that instant.

When Piper eased the front door open and stepped inside, waving her hand in front of her face to ward off cobwebs, she looked just like Molly — that long black hair and those jewel-bright eyes, and a mouth with a smile hidden at the corners of it. But once the moment of hope melted away, I could see the differences between Piper and her grandmother, and there were plenty of them. And then two boys walked in behind her, and they shut the door.

Piper turned to face them, and she let that hidden smile loose, and it was a different kind of smile than I’d ever seen on Molly’s face — bright and sharp and cruel, ready to have that cruelty dialed up as far as it needed to go. When I saw that smile on Piper’s face, I knew.

I knew that she was nothing like Molly at all.

This's a character who is gonna shortly be disabled, and she's allowed all her sharp edges and I will never fucking be over it. This's a novel of sharp edges, not pulling a punch in deference to its subject matter, not doing a thing to make its readers comfortable or reassured. It's all the ferocity horror should be, with probably my favorite insight being:

When there is a house that no one will ever live in again, people bring their secrets to it. They hide things there — treasures and secrets and sins and violence and love. They turn it into a place to be cruel to each other, because they’re afraid, and fear slaps a dial onto cruelty and turns it up as high as it can go. They turn it into a place to want each other, because fear puts a dial onto want, too. They turn it into what it is, and without them, a house is just a house, no matter what happened there. It’s just empty.

a two-chapter masterclass in writing representation we wanna see.

I was a disabled child told to be kind, not to make folk nervous or bristle at their pity. To know my limitations and stay quiet, not rock the boat and I wouldn't be hurt or scorned more than was expected for my disability. They're lessons I'm spending much of my twenties unknotting, and this vicious, many-toothed novel has wrapped itself round my heart even in its infancy.

[hungergames-fanfic]

Half Human, Half Squirrel pt.2

“Littleburg used to have another name before the games. Ms. Gullard told us last year. She says it used to be the Capitol of Texas, one of the previous states formin’ the United States of America, which we now call Panem”, I say. Ari stares at me with her mouth open.

“You ever been to actual Littleburg?”, I ask. She shakes her head. I’m not surprised, this is where all the rich folk live and everything is too expensive. “Our school is right outside of Littleburg. This is the only elementary in all of District 10”, I add. Daddy says that’s how the government keeps track of us but I don’t tell Ari this, I aint tryna explain 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

“that’s why it’s so big?”, Ari jumps off her seat with her hands in the air. Daddy asks her to sit down. That’s cause peacekeepers are really mean here and will stop anybody. Momma Bilmin calls it abuse of power and to never ask them for help.

Cause the peacekeepers usually pick on people who look poor, to go to Littleburg we have to dress nice. Momma Bilmin combed our hair really tight into a braid and put a cowboy hat on Ari. I think it’s to hide how skinny she really looks with her hair tamed. Momma Bilmin then turned one of my yellow dresses inside out, sew it in a couple of places and made it fit Ari. She looks so pretty and hasn’t stopped smiling since. She says I look pretty in my dress too.

Driving past our school, daddy keeps going until we reach local stores. These are old, small and a lot cheaper than those deeper in Littleburg. Passing these we start to see forests and pretty green trees down the long road. He makes a lot of sharp turns I don’t pay attention to the way Ari does. She sits on her knees, looking out the window in awe. I don’t blame her. Bloques is nothing like this, aunt Lucia calls it “one big shantytown” cause the houses are so close together there aren’t that many trees.

“Look Dora”, daddy points at some ruins.

Behind a chain link fence is a completely destroyed building scattered all over a long road. The engines and wings remind me of a plane I once saw in a book about traveling. There were so many versions of planes that I spent a whole week reading just about them. “Airport?”, I gasp excitedly. I jump off my seat and join Ari at the window. “That one!”, I point at a blue and yellow plane underneath a run down hangar. “That’s a Boeing 757, that was the first largest single isle passenger plane for a very long time. Oh!”, I point at a lost wing with a jet engine holding it off the ground, “that must of been an Airbus, those were made in a country named France” I continue.

“Dora”, daddy interrupts. He says I’m not to talk about what I’ve learned beyond Panem. “Won’t do you any good to get smart, these fields are yours, this’s what you need to focus on”, he said once.

Soon, there’s not that many trees surrounding the road, it’s stores all over the area. “Pocco’s Footwear”, “Family Donuts”, “Brie’s Electronics”, and “DDDD Insurance” are some of the names on them. Behind these are neighborhoods of houses like mine. These are made of red brick with backyards. “They’re connected to the poles, they carry electricity throughout the neighborhood”, I point at the power lines.

In no time, the roads get bigger and everyone is driving faster. “These are highways and they take us to different sections of Littleburg”, I continue. Up on one of the ramps we’re able to see a big pretty building out in the distance. “That’s Spring Hills, middle and high school but you gotta be accepted to it. Momma wants me to go there next year”, I whisper to Ari. She doesn’t say anything back but looks sad. I wish I could read her mind. Maybe I could. Maybe there’s a book on reading minds.

“Daddy will there be a book store where we’re goin’?”, I ask.

“No more books, you got enough at home”, he says.

“Momma Bilmin says there can never be enough books”, I say but nothing more when I catch his eyes on me in the rear view mirror.

Off the highway he drives into a big parking lot, surrounding it are stores scattered all around. A gas station at the entrance corner, an ice cream shop in the middle of the lot, stores connected together but with signs that say what they sell. “PBS Pharmacy”, “Make U Smile Dental”, “Petstore”, a huge one named “Bullseye” and more that are too far away to read.

“Wow, can we go there”, Ari asks pointing at the pet store. We look at daddy, he says “no”, and heads for the pharmacy. He looks tired.

“Why does he sleep on the sofa?”, Ari whispers in my ear so he won’t hear. I look at her confused. Daddy doesn’t sleep on the sofa, he sleeps with momma. If he did, was it cause of what happened last night?

I don’t notice how hot it is outside until we walk into the pharmacy. A blast of cold air hits us when the door opens making Ari scream and laugh. Even though her scream scared me a little, it’s still funny and I laugh with her. Daddy looks back at us with a smile on his face. I don’t have to read his mind to know he found it funny too.

Not wanting to lose daddy I take Ari’s hand and pull her along with me. She holds on tighter. He walks a lot faster than us so we practically jog to him. We pass a couple of isles before Ari stops running and pulls on my arm. Not wanting to lose daddy, “go, I’m gonna see where he goes and come back”, I inform.

Daddy stands in the middle of an isle, on the shelves are a lot of plain gray boxes. “Earwax Remover”, “Eye Drops”, “Antiseptic Cream”.

“Lice Remover?”, I ask scratching my head.

Daddy looks down at me with a weird look on his face. He looks mad, confused, I can’t tell and I really wish I could. In his hand are two rectangular boxes that say just that. Without a word, he pushes me and we walk out the isle in search for Ari. We find her on the floor playing with a rubber chicken, making it scream when she presses on it. She giggles every time.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go talk to the pharmacist”, daddy says just before he walks off like he remembered something he’d forgot.

The chicken continues to squeal and Ari screams in giggles. Can’t forget how loud she is when she’s having fun. To keep her company I look around the toy isle until one catches my eye. It’s not really a toy but a board game, to play you need about three people, that could be Efrain, Ari and me. The instructions say that you are given a word and then you have to act it out. Who ever guesses it wins a point. Or something along those lines. I want it and I’m too excited to wait for daddy to come back to tell him. I tell Ari to wait and run around the store looking for daddy, whom I find at the back talking to an old man.

“Good news, the vaccines you ordered will be here in a couple of days”, says the old man looking at his computer screen.

“That ain’t what I’m here for”, daddy chuckles like he’s nervous. Momma says it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking so I run back to Ari to see if there’s a toy she’d want too. I’m sure if we beg him just enough he’d get it for us.

When I return to the isle she’s no longer there. I run to the opposite end and spot her jumping in and out the store, playing with the automatic doors. “I leave for one second”, that’s what I wanna say when I catch her and run after her who takes it like a challenge. She spots me and screams, then proceeds to giggle away. If daddy finds out we left the store he’s not gonna let me see tonight.

Outside she runs giggling her heart out past the store fronts until she suddenly stops. I know what she’s looking at, it’s the pet store. That’s where she wanted to go when we got here. She walks inside with a look of awe in her face. I follow her in and take her hand pulling her closer to me. That’s the last time I let her out of my sight.

“Ari, you can’t do that”, I say out of breath.

“Ari? Ari-elle. It’s like you wanna say my name but some stop you”, she swings our hands. I never noticed how short she is. With the hat she looks a little taller but is still obviously short. I put my hand close to her forehead and measure her. She reaches my chin in height. She giggles to this but says nothing.

“You don’t like it? Been callin’ you that in my head for a minute. Not sure when I started”, I admit.

She giggles and gives me a hug, “no one’s ever given me a nickname before. Well momma calls me chipmunk”, “I knew it!”, I scream in her face. She jumps and opens her eyes wide. I ain’t tryna admit I thought of her as a squirrel, “I knew they called you some cute, it suits you cause you’re... cute too” my lie suddenly feels like it turns true and I freeze hoping she doesn’t say anything.

“You think I’m cute?”, Ari asks. She bats her eyes and smiles but it looks made up, like she’s happy and sad at the same time. She’s turning pink. Still holding on to my hand, she barely pulls on me but I still follow.

The isle she walks to is like a bookshelf for fish tanks. Colorful fish swim around in groups with pretty rocks and castles in their tanks. In one there are about a hundred swimming the same direction until Ari knocks the tank making them swim away. The fun is back on her face. In no time we’ve roamed around the entire pet store. From looking at individual colorful fish swim around in a small container to puppies play fighting with each other in a big glass case. We even get to pet a bunny when Ari opens up a cage that hasn’t been locked. The bunny falls asleep while I pet it. I want it, I want all of the animals in here. Daddy would say we’ve got enough animals at home though. Daddy? I gasp catching Ari’s attention.

“Ari, we gotta go”, I say pulling on her hand. By now I’m sure daddy’s stopped talking to the old man and is waiting for us with an unpleased look on his face. To be in trouble scares me and I’m almost too scared to go back.

Hiding my feelings we return to the pharmacy and walk to the back but daddy ain’t there. Quickly I call out for him and run around the entire place. Ari’s close behind still holding on to my hand really tight. I go back to the toy isle, he’s not here. I go back to the isle he got the lice remover from, he’s not here. I walk up to the counter and ask the cashier, she doesn’t look older than Eduardo, she pops her pink bubble gum and leans closer to us, looking at us back and forth.

“Y’all lookin’ for the tall cowboy with the pretty braids?”, she asks twirling her hair with her finger.

“That’s my daddy, you seen him?”, I ask practically screaming at her. She sneers.

“Yeah, I seen him”, she says. I open my eyes wide and extend my arms in confusion. Is she gonna tell me where he went or not?

“He left lookin’ for y’all, almost walked out of here without payin’”, she smiles smacking her gum. “Too fine to pass the opportunity though, called him back“, she giggles still playing with her hair, “went headed to Bullseye”, she says pointing to said direction with her pinky finger.

“We need to make sure he hasn’t left”, I say to Ari running back to momma’s car. Here it looks like he came back and put his bags on the front seat before going out to find us. This makes me nervous. If daddy is actively searching then that means he’s gonna kill me when he finds us. I ain’t tryna look like a wuss though, so I keep my worries to myself.

“Look”, Ari says pointing at the ice cream shop in the middle of the parking lot. Next to it is a white peacekeeper vehicle. “Wanna ask’em?”, she pulls on my arm.

“No”, I say thinking about what momma Bilmin would do. “We should ask inside”, I add.

We actively ignore the peacekeepers, like they aren’t there but a big boring rock in their place. They notice us though and maybe there’s a look of worry in my face, that would explain why Ari hasn’t acted up in a minute. That or she’s just as scared of daddy.

“Aye kid, what’s up?”, one says. They’re both old but not too old, maybe younger than daddy. They wear their peacekeeper uniforms but have taken their helmets off to enjoy their ice cream.

“Y’all seen Mr. Wyetka? Got a cowboy hat on, really tall, really 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 tall, like this”, Ari says on her tip toes tryna draw a line way above her head. The peacekeepers laugh.

“Even the children?”, one says. “Y’all seen Mr. Doodah”, the other one mocks in a silly version of our accent. “Hey kid, look around, everyone’s got a damn cowboy hat on”, this makes the other one laugh and point at Ari and then his head, “It’s like everyone here is born with one”, he says making themselves laugh even harder. I hope they drop their ice cream.

“C’mon”, Ari says pulling me into the ice cream shop. “Hey mister, you seen-“, she’s interrupted by the man behind the counter.

“Hey kid ya daddy was just in here lookin’ for y’all”, he says.

“You seen where he went?”, Ari asks with excitement. The man shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. This scares me more. What if daddy gives up and goes home without us? What if he finds us and is super angry? How mad is he gonna be at me?

Back outside I can’t hold it anymore and start to cry so much my body moves like I got hiccups every time I gasp. Ari holds my hand the entire time. She hugs, says she’s sorry and begs me to stop crying. I want to but I can’t stop. I’ve lost daddy and he’s out here looking for me too. He’s gonna be so mad when he finds us. “If he ever does”, I think making myself feel worse.

“Maybe we should try Bullseye”, Ari says.

“That’s a really big store, we’d have better luck waitin’ for him outside”, I say through the sobs. Ari agrees and hugs me again, tells me that we’ll find him and when we do she’ll take the blame. I don’t want her to, even if it was her fault I wouldn’t want daddy to be mad at her.

Holding hands, we walk past store fronts asking for daddy but so far no one’s seen him. Back in the petstore the man behind the counter points to the Bullseye store direction. We automatically head there and plan to wait for him outside. Ari calls the plan a smart one.

“Excuse me mister”, Ari approaches a man sitting outside the store. He’s short, bald, and greasy. He sits in front of a table and looks to be selling watches. He doesn’t look too happy to be talked to.

“Go away!”, he snaps, “If you aint buyin’ get the fuck outta here, scarin’ away my customers”, he waves us off like flies.

Ari looks around, inside the store where people are walking in and out ignoring us and him. She turns to the parking lot where cars drive past not noticing us either. She looks at me and then at him, “what customers?”.

“I said get the fuck outta here you freaky little shit before I drop kick you to the moo-, hey-llo there, you tryna buy a nice watch? One for the wife? Present for momma? Friend?”, he goes from screaming his head off to suddenly being really nice.

Ari and me look at each other wide eyed. Slowly we turn around to see the tall man staring at the short bald man selling watches. Daddy stands outside the doors giving him a cold look. His arms folded. There’s no emotion on his face and he doesn’t say anything. Not to him, not to me. My heart beats fast and for a second I think he’s gonna hit me. He puts his hand on my back and pushes Ari and me towards the direction of the car. None of us says anything on our way and I’m trying my best not to cry anymore.

I look at Ari who looks very sad too. She stares at the floor and barely holds my hand. I know why she’s upset. That man back there called her a freak, she says everyone at school calls her that and she doesn’t like it. I tighten my grip on hers and it catches her attention. “You’re not a freak, Ari you’re just different”, I say leaving myself thoughtful, “in a way.. I’m different too”, I say. She gives me a thin lipped smile that look sadder than before. She wants to cry but doesn’t, instead she hugs me while we walk.

“Hey, y’all want some ice cream?”, daddy asks.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”, Ari screams jumping up and down. She smiles wide and dances in place. This makes me laugh and I look at daddy. He looks worn out but he’s not mad. He gives me a smile and pulls me close giving me a tight hug. I hope this means I’m not in trouble.

[sandwichbully]

Sammy’s Avenue Eatery, 23 November 2018

   “When people are hungry, you feed ‘em.”

   OK, so about three years ago, I was working at UCare - “UCare, health care that starts with denying you your oxygen!” - and it was a slow afternoon one afternoon. Most afternoons were slow and the mail room was overstaffed for what we needed, so I logged a lot of time on Facebook and I saw this joint, Sammy’s Avenue Eatery, and I thought their sandwiches looked pretty good, so I made it a point to go there.    ... aaannnddd I never did.    I was broke as shit at the time, working fourteen hours a day six days a week between two jobs (and still being broke all the time) and feeling like shit because I was a terrible letdown to my then-girlfriend (the one from this episode) because I was always tired and just wanted a goddamned beer and two cigarettes. Eventually things improved but not by much and yadda yadda yadda, a whole bunch of shit happens, and going up to Sammy’s Avenue Eatery has been low priority.    But I never forgot it. It kind of even nagged at me. And today, with it being almost fifty degrees for what is surely the last time this year if it isn’t the next to last time this year, I made it a point to go to what is likely going to be the final Sandwich Bully episode for 2018 - unless y’all want to come pick me up in your petite bourgeoisie automobile with “the heat” on in December and January.    So I rolled up on the corner of Emerson and Broadway and walked in and looked over the menu and waited for the nice lady to finish making a chai latte for this other lady and I asked her which she preferred, the Hot Roasted Chicken or the Turkey Bacon Club.    She said honestly that she preferred the chicken but they were out of that so turkey and bacon (I had to specify because I’ve had exactly one experience with turkey bacon and that shit is fucking gross and it’s so gross that I’m compelled to put up a picture of my first ex with a caption mocking her voice in which she chides me for having high blood pressure but that is seriously some SD&A shit and - Hm? Oh, Sound Design and Assembly. That was my old record review blog but I didn’t review records so much as I bitched about pop culture and waxed poetic on having picked up nookie the night before.)

   Wait. Where are we?

   OK, let’s start that over.    She said honestly that she preferred the chicken but they were out of that so turkey and bacon (I had to specify because I’ve had exactly one experience with turkey bacon and that shit is fucking gross) it was and I grabbed a cranberry ginger ale and I found myself engaged in a conversation with her. Lot of personal stuff that isn’t my business to put up here but I guess maybe I can talk about the political side of it and that part was refreshing because nobody was bringing out words with “-ism”s on the end, we were just on the same wavelength, talking about how Minneapolis government is mishandling or outright ignoring a bunch of problems and how there are easy - very easy solutions to them. The homeless encampment whom the city couldn’t decide to house in either a warehouse or a vacant fucking lot? Well, hell, how many boarded up houses are there in north Minneapolis? I figured put the homeless at least in the warehouse out of the elements. The woman I was talking to told me they had plenty of empty houses in this neighborhood. A solution I never thought of. And even thinking about it now, I realize that there’s a lot of red tape and the banks own those empty houses but why does the bank own an empty house? Why is it held by a private entity and not by the state? What are the escheat and adverse possession laws in Minnesota? (And that’s over thinking it but that’s because capitalism doesn’t provide for simple solutions without the transfer of liquid assets.)

   And enough of that.    Anyway, at one point, this dude comes in and says he doesn’t have time to stop in and eat at the moment but he was just wondering what the soup of the day was for when he came back later and the woman said it was alright if he didn’t have time to eat, she’d fix him a “little” to-go cup (it was more like an eight ounce cup and I don’t know how metric people measure soup; by volume - 237mL - or by mass - 227g) and she handed it to him and told him to have a good day and he said thank you and he walked out the door and she stared out the window and she said, “When people are hungry, you feed ‘em.”    No conditions, no clauses, just simple straight to the point action and solution.    And she told me about how she wanted to start a homeless shelter, not like the ones downtown where you have to "tell ‘em everything about your life just to get in the door”, she wanted to start one where if you were tired, you could sleep, and if you got caught fucking up, you got kicked out. Simple as that.    And my brain goes to how dangerous that would be because what about all the rapists and murderers and then my privilege checks itself and I got to remember that homeless folks aren’t homeless because they’re murderers and they do just want a warm place to sleep and a little something to eat.    She told me she wanted to open a soup kitchen, too, and told me that one place downtown was in such a great location because it was centralized and somebody could even walk for forty blocks to get there, and they would, too, because, as she put it, “hunger travels”. I know that. I remember the time, it was like ten years ago or so, that I was with Georgie and we were starving and I walked two miles in a snowstorm to the food shelf and I lied on the paperwork and told them our twenty eight year old roommate was our four year old son because I thought I could get us more food that way (and, hey, there were three people in the house). I remember being dismayed at what we got and dutifully trundled it back home. I remember all that.    Maybe it was meant to be that I didn’t get to Sammy’s until today to have this conversation. Maybe as a (timely) reminder to be thankful for what I do have, maybe as a reaffirmation of my beliefs, maybe to just talk to somebody over lunch, which I never get to do because I live alone and work alone.

ANYWAY!    How was the sandwich!? How was the fucking sandwich, Charlie!? Remember how this blog is called Sandwich Bully? And it’s about sandwiches? And how it’s not a place for you to peddle your bleeding heart commie* beliefs or pontificate on how we need to be good and charitable toward our brothers and sisters!? HOW THIS PLACE IS MEANT FOR SANDWICHES!?!?!? TALK ABOUT THE FUCKING SANDWICH, CHARLIE!!!    It was good. As I was grabbing a pop, the woman (I know her name I just don’t know how she spells it) told me that if I wanted to bundle the sandwich and drink into a combo, that she had chips and I told her nah, I had to watch my salt and she said she knew that was right. I watched her slice my tomato right out of a whole fresh tomato which I’ve seen maybe only Trieste do - slice fresh to order. And she asked if I liked onions and I said I did and she asked if I liked pickles and I said I did and then she held the pickle slices over the container and gave them a little wiggle and told me, “Getting the salt off them for you,” which was cool. Aint ever had anybody do that for me before. And then we set to talking while I ate at the counter and you read about all that.    Well, let’s start with the size issue. I ordered a half sandwich (around seven dollars) and it was big enough that I feared what I might have gotten if I had gotten a whole one (around eleven dollars). Trust me, I beg of you, please trust me, I am on my knees begging you to trust me: Order the half sandwich. That is the reasonable human serving size.    The tomato was crisp (natch) and the pickles and onions added necessary sour and bite. The cheese, I don’t know what it was but it was white and it was creamy and, tag-teamed with the bacon, it kind of overpowered the turkey but the bacon-cheese combo overpowers most things. The mayo on the sandwich was applied to the bread pre-grilling which, a few years ago, I would have said “ew” to but recently I had the revelation that mayo is just eggs and oil (no, not that part) which are both things that are perfectly alright to be applied to direct heat (that part) and I’ve been waiting to try frying my grilled cheese with mayo on the outside but I never buy bread and I never buy mayonnaise - Why buy mayo when you can make aioli? - so I finally got to try this technique at Sammy’s and I have to admit I didn’t notice anything inherently distinguishable about it but, again, bacon-cheese combo. Overpowers everything but...    OK, probably the last time we get to do this this year unless somebody wants to drive me somewhere during December and January so we have to make this one good.    Let’s see, let’s see, let’s see...    [clears throat] But the real blackout drunk correspondent of Armenia Decides, 2018... No no no.    [clears throat again] But the real evil twin unplugging the good twin’s life support so she can assume her identity and run off with her husband... No. Come on, man, you got this. You have literally nothing else.    OK, I think I got it.    But the real guest star in the dangers-of-huffing-gas-as-a-pregnant-teen episode of this highly rated Saturday morning teen show never to be seen again as, metafictionally, her character had been shipped off to an island of misfit one-off characters, each themselves never to be seen again, turned cannibal after the last hunt didn’t yield the boar’s head required to appease the god behind the sun, he who in-turn took his great veil from the white ball in the sky and scorched their crops in anger and now, teen pot dealer and teen wheelchair basketball player and teen army brat and teen with an eating disorder and all the rest, none of whom were ever seen again, are forced to turn on each other for survival, their malevolence a dance for the god behind the sun’s enjoyment, for when enough blood is spilled he veils his white ball and grants them rest from the heat, but now, a new arrival - The Pregnant Teen Gas Huffer... is the house sauce, which I suspect is a honey dijon vinaigrette. It was sweet, a little complex but not so complex that I couldn’t guess what it was while I was eating it. It stood out and balanced the savory fattiness of the bacon-cheese combo.    The lettuce?    We don’t have to do the lettuce thing, do we?

   I mean, it’s probably the last time this year.

   Overall, not a bad bike ride, it was a pretty decent sandwich - it was good but I’m not falling over stupid for it. I mean, hey, it filled me up and I ordered the half sandwich. If there was a quarter sandwich option, I’d go for that. It tasted good, too. She asked me how it was and I told her it was wonderful and she said she was glad I liked it and I told her I was glad she made it.    I guess that there was a sense of openness, of community to the place, which we’ve been over before: I prefer to go to places that feel worn in and homey. Places like Band Box and Ideal where the proprietors and the patrons are literally neighbors, where people have been going for years, people who are eating there now worked there in high school because their parents knew the manager. Sammy’s has that vibe.    It’s kind of like Nye’s.    I liked Nye’s (yes, past tense) when you could walk in and say hi to Phil, sit down, and have an ice cold Żywiec and there was a college football game on you could ignore and it was red Corinthian leather booths and tacky martini murals on the walls and mirrors behind the bar to make the liquor selection look more impressive (or whatever the mirrors are back there for) and it was locals in there.    Last time I was in Nye’s, there was no Phil, the new guy didn’t know what Żywiec was, the interior designer clearly got all their ideas from IKEA (still love you, IKEA, but you are not meant for a bar), and the only patronage in there were literally tourists asking about the history of the Mississippi River.    I can’t fuck with that scene because it doesn’t feel like it’s a part of the community that supported it through the years. Ownership changed and nobody gave a fuck about preserving the community aspect of the place, it’s clearly a cash grab more cynical and distasteful than when they made Game of Death with B-roll of Bruce Lee and two actors who looked nothing like him.    Sammy’s, on the other hand, feels like it’s part of its community. Established in Near North, playing a role in Near North, employing Near North, feeding Near North.    GO.    GIVE.    THEM.    YOUR.    MONEY.

* I was once briefly involved with a Randian Libertarian who called me literally a “bleeding heart commie” because I told her Atlas Shrugged was “right-wing oriented”. Ah, to be young again.

[theredheaddevil]

fuck it 70 questions

this has been in my drafts for 2 years so im impulsively doing it now  og post 

full thing under the cut cuz its long and super out of date

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? nah, kinda sketch, but bareable these days 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? v 03: Do you regret anything? i regret eating an entire bag of fudge earlier... i feel kinda sick rn 04: Are you insecure? sometimes. but mostly about uh typing which is wack considering im doing this  05: What is your relationship status? single, but i have a qpp. 06: How do you want to die? [redacted] 07: What did you last eat? fudge... so much friggin fudge 08: Played any sports? sorta but not in a while now  09: Do you bite your nails? nah, shits gross  10: When was your last physical fight? probs a controlled spar a year or two back but other than that i havent really been in fights to my knowledge  11: Do you like someone? platonically aye 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? ye sleep deprivation 101 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? yeah but mentioning them is petty an shit aint worth the emotional labour 14: Do you miss someone? yeah. 15: Have any pets? technically no but my mother has a rabbit an hes basically mine 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? lil tired, melancholy ?? bit with a bit of dread ?? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? nope 18: Are you scared of spiders? nah, but i wont pick them up after a certain size 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? ye 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? the information youre lookin for aint here, never have done an idk if i ever will 21: What are your plans for this weekend? uh idk tbh so heres my plans for tomorrow.  -dye my hair  - go out for coffee  - paint  - look at the uni notes, maybe stare into space  - phone the doctor  22: Do you want to have kids? How many? no and 0  23: Do you have piercings? How many? yes and 8 currently but i want more 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? art, english and at one point i was good at history tho tbh i was cheating with the dates  25: Do you miss anyone from your past? occasionally  26: What are you craving right now? mouthwash 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? at this point with how some folk have reacted when ive turned them down, probably  28: Have you ever been cheated on? nope 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? never dated  30: What’s irritating you right now? the length of my hair 31: Does somebody love you? as edgy as this sounds, i sure hope not? i dont vibe 32: What is your favourite color? hard to say, red, blue and yellow r what i say.   33: Do you have trust issues? we dont talk about that  34: Who/what was your last dream about? y last dream was actually an apocalypse one. so a lot of faces of folk i dont know with a lot of dread but a peak time ngl  35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? my brother i think?  36: Do you give out second chances too easily? sometimes, but usually when i say something is final its final  37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? forget 38: Is this year the best year of your life? nope but i dont wanna say one point is objectively better  39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? data not found cuz shit hasnt happened  40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? nope 51: Favourite food? nah,  52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? depends on the circumstance  53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? read fanfiction cuz bih i read a surprising amount  54: Is cheating ever okay? an exam , yeah duh  on someone, noooooooooooooo jesus  55: Are you mean? sometimes but usually for good reason i feel 56: How many people have you fist fought? if sparing counts ... a lot  57: Do you believe in true love? not really ???? 58: Favourite weather? i love snow, rain, thunderstorms an when is fookin windy 59: Do you like the snow? yeas 60: Do you wanna get married? not really? it always feels like such a wacky thing financially an socially for something that you shouldn't need to “prove” but tbh i dont really understand a lot of things with relationships  61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? ... no 62: What makes you happy? i like to draw, an tbh i good fic  63: Would you change your name? yeah, ive done so and id do it again  64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? never have done so there is not last person  65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? this post is old af. the answer is nothing, theyre still my friend  66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? not really nah 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? i dont know tbh 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? idk deep conversations aint something i have these days.  69: Do you believe in soulmates? nope! but it is usually a fun story trope for comedy 70: Is there anyone you would die for? nah ?

okay christ this was outdated more so than i thought. idk why i wanted to do this 2 years ago but eh its done now  an tbh if you read this i have questions and all of them r  “why?????????”