#and the stress that puts on the dog to keep coming back and forth

[fruitless-vain]

I would 100% respect Certain Rescues a whole lot more if they started being clear about their dogs’ behaviour problems instead of skirting around the subject and dolling it up with sentences like “he just needs someone who really loves him!😌” *dog is a walking bite risk to anything that moves*

Getting dogs in to homes as fast as possible is Not Worth It when you’re putting dangerous dogs in homes not equipped to handle the problems you’re disguising.

[kryannoy]

sylus's favorite things to do . . .

genre: nsfw, smut

character: sylus

warnings: impact play involved, teasing, cockwarming

HAND HOLDING

This is a must. Sexually or non-sexually, he doesn't mind holding your hand. But when you're struggling to take his huge cock, squirming here and there, pulling the sheets or anything, he'll have his bigger hands over yours and prying to open it so he can intertwine your cute fingers. He also loves it when his hands press yours down onto the mattress while he's thrusting himself deep inside you, fast and suddenly coming to an abrupt slow, then fast again without warning you.

COCKWARMING

When he's working or stressing out with his two adult kids, he'll pull you onto his lap and make you grind on him. His grip on your hips pushing you back and forth, forming an obvious tent under his pants. It wasn't hard to feel and spot it on your clothed pussy up to your inner thigh. Once he's hard, he'll pull down both of your pants and let his dick engulf inside your warm, gummy walls with a relief sigh. He has a habit of bucking his hips up yours and claims it as "adjusting his seat" but boy, you know it wasn't from that smirk on his face. When it comes to sex, after sex specifically, he'll keep himself sheathed inside you while hugging you from behind until he accidentally falls asleep.

TEASING

Somehow, it always turns him on when he's the one receiving it. Your flirtatious acts, your previews of what's to come are what makes his breathing go labor. As if his chest isn't big enough, it keeps going up and down when he's breathing rapidly from your continuous teases. His favourite is when you touch him from his stomach, up to his chest and smacking some on his face, making him flinch from the impact. And oh, how he just wants to beg you like a dog when you push his thighs wider with your heels. Sometimes he even has dirty fantasies of you stepping on his cock with your expensive heels he bought for you.

IMPACT PLAY

Whether it'll be receiving or giving, he doesn't mind. Sometimes he likes to receive, other times he likes to do it to you. With your consent, of course—because he has big hands and long fingers for nothing, it'll hurt you. But most times he wouldn't want to hurt you so he'll receive it instead. He'll let you play around with him and submit the control to you just so you can get a taste of superiority. He likes to let you have hope because he finds it cute of you, a kitten who thinks they're in charge.

FOREPLAY

He loves to take his time with you. Getting you in the mood and making sure you feel good is important to him. He doesn't care if his dick is strained, somehow he takes pleasure in that. He loves to see your face contort into different expressions and your voice making the cutest sounds. He doesn't do quickies so a lot of times he's late for work or meetings because he will not half-ass his time with you.

VOYEURISM

The feeling of getting caught is the best feeling he could ever imagine. Although, most of the time he doesn't really care if he gets caught with his dick stuffed into your cunny or your mouth. The closer the people around, the faster he goes just to make you burst your bubble and moan loudly by accident so he can blame you instead. Yes, he would put his hand over your mouth if he notices the fear in your eyes. His main goal is to make you cum when people are close to where you guys are.

[a-minke-whales-tale]

The Struggle of Misanthropy

I find myself often struggling with feelings of Misanthropy, they are to me not feelings I particularly like. I know where they come from and why they exist, and even though I do not like them, I understand where they come from and that it is not unreasonable for me to have them. (Continued below the break - Length: 2078 words)

I find that often the community has this push against misanthropy and for particular positivity of humans and humanity, even to the point of shaming those of us who have those feelings including from trauma and hurt. I have a couple friends on here who have expressed either in general or to me that feeling that they have to hide those feelings or worry I will react badly to it. I feel it myself worrying about expressing particular anger for things done to me.

I do think there are multiple types and levels of misanthropy, and it seems likely we are using the same word for different experiences, and perhaps I am using this word wrong. I had discussed this topic after some back and forth with Rani on the subject and determined that we were more or less talking about different aspects of the same word but maybe there is another word that better describes my own relationship with humanity.

There is that misanthropy that seems to take the form of ecofascism, of humans being a virus or particularly evil or destructive. There is misanthropy that takes the form mainly of a belief in superiority in themselves over the humans for various justifications. There is the misanthropy that stems largely from hurt from the actions of humans to the individual themselves that seems to come as fear and distrust and discontentment towards them. I am certain there is a lot of other varieties and there can be crossover between them.

I do not think humans are inherently evil or even uniquely destructive beyond their numbers and intelligence. Heck the penis worm may have ended the Ediacaran. Nor do I think the bad things humans have done to myself, and others, is something inherent to them. Humans are a very communal species who only survived off their collaboration between each other and other animals, but now live in a very stressful environment that encourages individuality and often rewards cruelty. Painted Dogs similarly are very communal and cooperative animals in their packs but confined to captivity can kill each other. A similar story exists for orca as well especially during the earlier days of captivity. Nor do I believe myself superior to the humans. I do find these first two types of misanthropy rather frustrating, but still like my own experience, it seems mostly to come from hurt people, people who have been abused by humans with power over them, people who have been isolated from their communities. I do not think most people come to hating humans just from the blue. My companion for instance does often echo the humans are a cancer idea from their own pain. It is at times frustrating, but I understand at least where it comes from, all the pain within them.

For myself I experience the third type. I do not hate the humans, but I do not particularly like them. I fear them. I distrust them. For me, the humans are in charge, and I have to obey them. They control the food; they control where I live; they control what happens to me and how much I hurt. If I obey them then things will be better for me. I am allowed to live outside of a hospital because I have been good and obedient. I am allowed to have my own life because I have been good and obedient. The humans have hurt me, and they continue to hurt me.

One of the common retorts to this is that it isn't fair to humans to judge them all for the actions of a few. The problem is it is not just a few, and it is not something in the past, it is something ongoing still. I still have to take pills I do not want that keep my body in this human form to be able to live outside a hospital, and if I did not take them I would be put away again and forced still to take the pills, and every step I refused to comply would only result in greater restriction until I complied or could no longer resist. It is true though only a few humans hurt me directly, only a few humans twisted my body into this shape and only a few humans did everything that was done to me in hospitals. But how many humans work in those hospitals supporting those doctors? How many humans enforce the will of those doctors and hospitals? How many people support what was done to myself and others, think that it is right and best for us, or sometimes even a gift? How many people think that what was done to me was necessary? How many think it is just how things are, maybe it isn't great but it cannot be changed? Not all of these people are equally culpable certainly, but the number of people who support this system which hurts us is really very high and I see it constantly all the time, even in just the small jokes people make. While only a few humans hold immediate power over me, in every human, or creature that fills the role of a human, for me is fear, is a need that I must obey, for they have an incredible power over me to hurt me if I do not give them what they want, and that if they do hurt me, even if they broke the rules of their society, no human would ever help me. For me, complete submission to the demands of the humans (at least externally) is the only way for my continued existence and my presence to be tolerated, and the pain I am given to be minimised.

Do not think therians are excused or immune from this; many therians do the same to us as well. I do find many therians extremely human. I find often their concerns, their desires, and their biases are often very human just with a little bit more. I know a number of people have described therianthropy as essentially human+. Therianthropy is a pretty wide spectrum of experience, and it is not inherently wrong to be on the more human side of that experience, I am simply unable to relate to it, but because of the biases many of them carry, they often hurt those like me, and you reading this may perpetuate things that do hurt those like me.

I have never really felt welcome in the therian community despite being here for near a decade now. It was not until around two or three years ago I felt comfortable to call myself a therian. I have schizophrenia and clinical zoanthropy (often shortened to CLCZ here), or those are at least the humans’ explanations of what I experience/d. The community has for a long time not been good to zoanthropes. I have been unwelcome in a lot of communities and it was often made clear to me over and over my experience was not the same as theirs. In order to be tolerated generally it had to be a fairly accepting community, normally of older therians, but with the caveat that if I ever described my experience I would have to play down my experience. I would have to always reassure everyone that I knew I was experiencing a delusion, and that none of it was real, not like their experiences were. I have been continuously isolated from what is ostensibly my own community, and in a community of outsiders, still an outsider, at best merely tolerated at the edge, but still an interloper in -their- space. In an almost mirror of a phrase I see often from therians of “too human to be with animals, to animal to be among human,” I am too human to be among my kind, but still too animal for many therians.

Things have gotten a bit better in the past decade, and particularly so on tumblr of people becoming more open with things like physical non-humanity. I am happy to have joined here, for one the relative anonymity means I can sometimes talk back, sometimes try to fight just a little bit and be heard, but also for the connections I have made, particularly with Dune, Sonar, Xem and Ike. I am very happy to have met other CLCZs. I do not feel so alone, there are others like me out there, and there are others like me on here, others I can connect with finally.

Still despite this, discussions of us not being welcome come up often. Anytime physical non-humanity comes up it does often come to demonising CLCZs as insane, dangerous, or needing serious help. Similarly, too many therians seem very eager to throw CLCZs under the bus when it comes to justifying their existence, particularly to the broader public and anti-kin. For the most part I can avoid it, but still, it keeps popping up. Even among those who do defend us and accept us, there is still a price for us to be tolerated. Many times, the justification why CLCZs are acceptable (particularly in the context of discussions of P-shifters) is that we acknowledge our experiences as delusion and that it is important that we tag our posts with unreality and delusion. Some people will say that those tags do not mean that the experiences are not real they just do not occur in -Reality-. For me at least I read it that the price of being tolerated is still to say my experiences are not real, my past and the things done to me and others is not real. I am tired of having to deny my own experiences as genuine for the comfort of others, I am tired of having to double bookkeep in every aspect of my life, including the places that are supposed to be safe and an outlet for me. I know what the humans think of my condition, and for that matter many therians, but I think I will stop tagging my experience with unreality and delusion, because they are not. I often think to drop the label for myself for feeling unwelcome and instead just use zoanthrope, even if that does not accurately capture myself either as it is still a word given to us by the humans for a delusion, but at least it is my community where I am welcome.

The truth is though, I do not hate the humans. I desire very much reconciliation. Still, as I am being actively hurt by the humans how -can- there be any reconciliation? I am very fortunate to have a few therians and even a couple of humans in my life I can be pretty open with about my experience. I know reconciliation is possible, but even with these close humans and therians (who for me fill the role of a human), I feel that I must obey them to be tolerated, not for their own actions, but for the scars on me from the actions of many humans.

Someday I will return to the water – I cannot survive in the wild – and likely I will go into a tank. I hope, when I do, I will be with my other cetacean friends. The humans did do me a number of kindnesses and made me clever enough that I can more or less fix my body and return to the water. I think only once there can reconciliation begin, with the main point of obedience removed and the cruellest damage the humans did to me, that of being forced to be human. I know that life as a captive cetacean would not be perfect and would carry with it many struggles and pain, and I have no doubt the humans will still hurt me some, I do not expect that others will never hurt me again – I will still often have to obey the humans, but now more as a cetacean than a human. But at least back in the water I could be myself, from the water I could look up at the humans on the edge of the tank and know that I survived and I persisted and I am free. Perhaps I may even bond with some kind trainers. In time those deep scars across me will start to fade – and with it that anger, that fear, that distrust. Though those scars will never fully heal, they will begin to look like the scars on many other captive cetaceans and we -can- reconcile at last.

Zwem ver, zwem vrij, kleine walvis, zwem voor altijd

~Kala

[lissrissye]

“𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰…” | bungo stray dogs (bsd)

osamu dazai, nakahara chuuya, ryunsouke akutagawa, gogol nikolai, dostoevsky fyodor

🪻𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; you are weeping because you feel insecure… they, of course, wouldn’t leave you alone just like that. they come into the room to comfort you, attempting to reassure you and tell you just how perfect you are… because you are ! <3

🪻 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 ; i lowkey got this idea since i was feeling so damn insecure earlier today <3 but just remember your self worth, pooks! you’re literally worth the world, so love yourself and be confident, mi amor ! try to stay positive, and compliment yourself because you fucking deserve it !

🪻 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 ; fluff, sweet romance, safe for work, comfort, angst

𝒪𝓈𝒶𝓂𝓊 𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾 — 太宰治

The keys inserted in the keyhole as Dazai twists it, unlocking the door after a day of investigating tiring cases. A huff escapes his lips softly as he pushes the door open, the fresh scent of home meeting his nostrils. He slips off his tan trench coat, letting it drop off his shoulders as he hangs it on the coat rack at the enterance with the first instinct to look for you. You were his first priority.

A soft noise of a sobbing seeps from the bedroom. You were the only one in the house, so Dazai rushes to the bedroom to see your silhouette in the dim room, the gentle moonlight illuminating a soft pearly white light. He walks to your side with an empathetic frown, bending down. —“Are you okay, belladonna? Please don’t be afraid to express your worries to me, my dear.”

You slowly turn your head to your brunette lover, a quiet cry coming from you as you reach over to embrace him for comfort. Osamu obliges happily, wrapping his arms around you and nodding as you vent to him. He sees his past self in you, and he wishes to protect you��� he doesn’t want you to go through the things he had to learn from. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. No, no never. —“I get it, belladonna. Keep going, let it all out and do my hold back. It will only pain you more to bottle everything up. Trust me, I know from personal experience, and I don’t want you to go through the same things I had too.”

𝒩𝒶𝓀𝒶𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 — 中原中也

With a glass of wine in hand, Chuuya returns from the bar after a mission complete for the Port Mafia. All he wishes is a refreshing, undisturbed 7 hours of sleep at the very least. He reaches for his keys as the keyhole accepts it with ease, the door making a soft click as it’s unlocked. He twists the handle, too lazy to even push it open, so he just uses his weight for it to swing open. He kicks off his glossy black shoes while heading inside to look for you.

—“Hmmph— pretty? Where are ‘ya…?” The executive calls out your name several times to receive no response. With a groan, he sets down his glass of liquor on the coffee table and heads up the stairs… he checks the kitchen, the living room, the restroom, the guest room… then eventually, after walking around the house, the only option was you were in your guy’s shared bedroom. Chuuya grabs into the handle and opens the door, as you didn’t put much thought into locking it.

With wide eyes, the first thing he sees is you, sitting on the cold floor while holding your knees, softly rocking back and forth. His first assumption is that someone had hurt you, though his blue orbs couldn’t discover any injuries on you. He sighs while approaching you, immediately cradling you in his arms and putting you up on the bed. —“Shhh, don’t cry… You boyfriend is here. Tell me everything, okay? Let me relive your stress and release the weight off your shoulders. You don’t have to hold it in anymore.” As you explain to ginger darling that you’re feeling insecure, he listens intensely… —“Don’t be insecure, you’re fucking gorgeous, Ma chėrie…”

𝑅𝓎𝓊𝓃𝑜𝓈𝓊𝓀𝑒 𝒜𝓀𝓊𝓉𝒶𝑔𝒶𝓌𝒶 — 芥川龍之介

After a day with Atsushi, Akutagawa was irritated and tired. He despised working with the jinko more than anything. Slowly stepping up the stairs leading up to the door, he searched his pockets for his keys. He then had to took the time to find the right key for the front door, making him grumble softly. Finally, he positioned the key with the keyhole, letting it slip in as he turned the key.

With a sigh, the Diablo placed his keys on the coffee table and bent down to remove his shoes, frequently putting it his hand over his mouth to cough. You haven’t answered his text messages, which made him quite concerned. He heard soft whimpering, as if someone tried to be silent. It came from the living room. He quickly made his way there only to find you curled up in a blanket, a pillow buried in your face. You sounded so vulnerable, dread and sorrow washing over you… Akutagawa hated seeing you like this, it pained his heart.

—“Hey— hey, hey… why are you crying? Are you hurt, are you okay? Please, please tell me…” Your black haired lover gently extracted the pillow from your grasp, cupping your face with his hands. He was silently panicking because he didn’t know how to comfort someone as he himself never experienced it except from you, so he tried to intimidate his actions. Despite being terrible at it, you appreciate it because he was attempting, and doing his absolute best to make you feel better. —“Do you want to… cuddle? Maybe eat snacks?… Erm…”

𝒢𝑜𝑔𝑜𝓁 𝒩𝒾𝓀𝑜𝓁𝒶𝒾 —ゴーゴリニコ��イ

After a day of annoying Fyodor and terrorizing innocent citizens for fun, Nikolai skipped to the front door and immediately started to unlock the door as quickly as he could. He created this sort of challenge for himself, how quick could he open the door everyday. Well, let’s just say Nikolai wasn’t too normal. Okay, far from the ordinary human being. With a hum, he managed to head inside in approximately 15 seconds or so. It took him a bit to decipher which key was for the door.

—“Oh, oh my little angel!~ Where are you?~ I need you to help me clean blood stains of my clothes, pretty please~ I’ll find you if I need too!~” The jester cooed your name softly, his voice reaching your ears because of the echos in the hallway. His voice was accompanied with a maniacal giggle. He didn’t bother to remove his shoes and skipped away to the restroom to one, see if you were there, and two, to wash the blood stains on his white clothes. With a soft hum, he switched the light on to see you on the ground, covering your stomach.

—“Hm?~ My beautiful dove?~” Nikolai couldn’t help but feel empathy for you, as he couldn’t lie that he felt something wash over him as he watched you in this state, all vulnerable. He bend down, first spraying some cologne to attempt to cover up the horrible stench on the blood on his clothes. —“Shhh, shhh~” He whispered softly on your ear, a bit stiff when it came to comforting you but he did his best and started to make jokes to try to make you laugh.

𝒟𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜𝑒𝓋𝓈𝓀𝓎 𝐹𝓎𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇 — ドストエフスキー・

A long, long day that felt like eternity with Nikolai annoying him, Fyodor was finally home. A soft grunt of exhaustion emerged from him as he checks his pockets for his keys, patting it down until he feels a bulge. He shoves his hand in that pocket and profess to find which key unlocks the front door. He makes sure not to loose it as he pushes it in the keyhole and twists it.

—“Myshka, I’m home.” The terrorist spoke softly, removing his shoes accompanied by his fluffy ushanka hat. When he noticed you aren’t running towards him as per usual, he tilts his head slightly in confusion. He walks around the house to look for you because you were acting very strange. He didn’t even have to see you to even know. As he approached the living room, he turns his head to the sofa to see two blankets covering you. You eeemed to attempt on hiding from him at first.

Fyodor did not hesitate to rush by your side. Cruel, heartless, brutal. Those were the words he received from the public as a unregretful terrorist. Though, you could argue with that just now as he scooped you up immediately and sat beside you, treating you like a princess. Fyodor could already tell what was happening as well, you didn’t have to tell him you were insecure. It made you feel better because you wouldn’t have to speak. He whispered sweet praises in your ear to show you how much of a precious treasure you are to him… —“You’re absolutely stunning and perfect the way you are, my dear… don’t change that.”

[blueberryarchive]

જ⁀➴18+

જ⁀➴3.8k words

જ⁀➴tw; poorly and drunkenly written, monster fcking (long tongue, dub-con, big dck!jimin), monster!jimin, cheating, question mark. scary, question mark.

Your laughter echoed in the room, the high ceiling and the clear windows covering one wall revealing the forest surrounding you. Dark, dense, and covered in raindrops. The storm had stopped a few minutes ago, and you finally woke up from a long nap. The vibrating of the old phone (the only form of communication, due to the poor signal) abruptly woke you up as you lifted your head from the furniture, the wool sheets covering your body.

"But you know you could have come with me if you wanted to." The voice on the other end of the line was soft. He had just woken up just like you.

"You know I don't like those events, they make me nervous." You responded to your boyfriend while playing with the dog resting in your lap. The German Sheperd was heavy, but it comforted you knowing you were not alone in the ample cabin.

Jimin loved nature. He had been talking about getting one in the middle of the forest ever since you met him. There were several opportunities for him to get one near his family, all beautiful. But they did not convince him. A few months ago, an old friend informed him of one in the middle of the forest. The closest neighbor was about forty kilometers away, he had a lake nearby and the house had not been restored since the 50s. Even the furniture you were resting on was from the previous family.

Jimin didn't think twice, in winter he invited you to spend the holidays with him. You couldn't resist the idea of a good fire, the rustling of fallen leaves, playing with sweet Pepper who ran around the house with a blanket in her mouth until she got tired.

Of course, also having Jimin all to yourself was a blessing. You woke up early to watch the sunrise from the window in the attic. Sometimes, you two would go for a walk, he would kiss you against the trunk of a willow tree and tell you the things he loved most about you. It was precious: to see him so calm in his own home, even if you had told him that it was a bit exaggerated to have a place with six bathrooms.

So what? We will fill the rooms over the years, he promised you the night before he left, making love to you fervently until you both fell asleep from exhaustion.

In the morning, around 6, a gray Mitsubishi stopped at the entrance to the cabin. A scandal, something to do with Taehyung going out in Paris and getting drunk. Same as always, Jungkook denied looking at his cell phone, trying to catch up with what they were saying on social media. He held up the device, searching for reception.

"It's useless, you have to go to the road if you want a reception," Jimin responded, hands on his waist, fog rising from his lips due to the morning mist. One of his favorite features of the place.

Jungkook clicked his tongue at him, putting the cell phone in his coat. "We have to go look for Kim, he's going to arrive at the airport in two hours."

Jimin looked back, you were at the front door. The sheets covered your shoulders as you tried to keep out the cold. You greeted Jungkook from afar, sleep still in your actions.

"It'll only be two days, love." Jimin paced back and forth, filling a backpack with essential things.

"I know, you don't have to explain." You looked at him while you were flipping through a 70's magazine in bed. "Besides, Pepper will be with me."

"You can call me whenever you want, no matter what time. I'll have the phone in my pocket." Jimin closed the backpack and turned his gaze to you, something was wrong. His eyes moved erratically over your features.

"Minnie." You called him to wake up from his stupor.

The man closed his eyes and smiled. "Sorry, this Taehyung thing has me stressed."

"Rumors pass."

"Did you go downstairs last night?" He interrupted you and put his index finger on his lips. As if the question had been bubbling since last night.

You shook your head, confused.

"No."

"Haven't you had those…you know, again?" His hands moved, trying to explain your sleeping problem. You had awful nightmares. Sometimes, you would even get out of bed and stare at the wall for minutes. Jimin knew about your issues and was happy that after going to a specialist, your sleeping habits were improving.

"No." You smiled comfortingly. "Besides, if it happens, Pepper will take care of me. I have her for that."

Pepper perked her ears at hearing her name. She was your companion, every time you had a nightmare, she would wake you up by putting her snout on your face, licking your nose and eyes to make you react.

Jimin nodded, thinking back to the topic of Taehyung. His fingers went to his temples, and before he could say anything else, Jungkook made the horn go off. Your boyfriend approached and kissed your forehead, love pouring from his pupils before he left.

He closed the door after giving you one last smile. "Take care, princess."

You spent the morning hours on the patio, finishing reading a book of stories by Borges. You walked a little with Pepper to the lake, where the birds settled on the protruding stones, looking for little fish.

If anything was notable, it was the silence that had engulfed you since Park left. Not even the birds in the pines squawked, nor did Pepper bark at the squirrels, nor did the leaves rustle the way they used to.

You decided to return earlier than ever to the cabin. You fed the dog and lay down on the couch. The light rain turned into a storm and, without realizing it, you had fallen asleep in the living room.

"How are the boys?" You asked, the long cord following your steps as you turned on the lights in the living room. The chandelier on the ceiling bathing the space in yellowish light. The lamps on the walls illuminate the hidden, dusty corners.

"We're resting, we went to eat at the hotel restaurant. Hoseok asked about you."

You smiled good-naturedly, grabbing the phone with both hands. Returning to your position on the couch. Pepper was no longer lying there, you assumed she went to finish what was left on her plate.

"You should invite them for Christmas. To the cabin, I mean."

"Maybe. I'll ask them in the morning." He answered with a sigh, he sounded drained. Your smile disappeared. You watched the flames in the fireplace flicker.

"Are you okay, Minnie?" Your voice was calm and comforting to your boyfriend.

"I just want to go back, I don't feel good sleeping alone… I feel like hotel rooms take the life out of me."

"Don't be so dramatic, I can hear you taking a hot shower." The running faucet rang as he moved the water.

A small laugh before going to silence, and the water continued to fall. Jimin licked his bottom lip before biting it.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about the video we made last night."

Your eyes drifted to the shimmering embers in the fireplace.

The reflection of the camera shows the silhouettes of both. Jimin pressed your head against the wall as the fire created a halo of heat around your sweaty, naked bodies. You moaned indecently, taking advantage of the fact that there was no one to hear you. Park loved how dirty you were after the stupid excuse that you had a glass of wine. He didn't even have to convince you much for him to put the cell phone on the bed and hit the red button.

"I hope you don't forget to buy condoms again. This is the last time we do it without protection."

There you were, putting on a show. Your skin crawled with every movement of his fingers, curling the index and ring fingers to caress your juicy walls.

"I thought you wanted the rooms to not feel so empty." He laughed. You stayed quiet. A long, eternal silence. He could hear you breathing. "Hello?" Jimin looked at his phone, you were still on the call. "Love?"

You clenched the phone in your hand, static as you watched a shadow: long and thin, like a worn-out umbrella, standing behind the glass of the front door. It couldn't be a tree, because it didn't move with the wind; not a forest animal either, it was too tall. Unless it's standing on two legs.

You don't know how long it lasted, maybe seconds, maybe a minute. The shadow quickly moved away, letting the moonlight come back in through the small window.

"Did you go back to sleep?" The voice tensed your body, your fingers trembling, trying not to drop the phone.

“No,” you stammered, looking towards the kitchen. Where was Pepper? "I saw a shadow outside, I-"

"The trees?"

"No, it's-" Why didn't you just say it? You looked towards the kitchen again. The light was off, but the windows let in the moonlight in all its splendor.

"Hey, what about Pepper? She was left whining at the door when I left this morning." Jimin was talking about how his dog would wait for him. The words dissolved in your ears like water. You got up cautiously and went to the hallway that led to the kitchen.

You heard Pepper's contented gasps, her tail slapping the ground with joy. The chop, chop, chop against the wood table. You approached the archway that led to the kitchen and pressed your body against the wall. You guided your eyes to where the animal was looking.

Your stomach flipped. It was Jimin. His back facing you, wearing the clothes he had yesterday. A tight black T-shirt and dress pants. His shoulders were tense with the repetitive motion of cutting vegetables.

"…I should get Pepper a partner, she's already getting old." He said on the line, the incessant creaking now louder.

"Jimin." You whispered so softly, but the being turned around. Even when you found yourself with only one eye in his sight, his gaze rested on yours with large pupils, distant and feral. The sound of vegetables did not stop when his body turned around. They came from his mouth, the cutting sounding so precise every time he parted his lips. Like a tape recorder with a scratched cassette.

"Jimin," he repeated as he finished turning around. Your voice coming out of his throat.

"Yeah?" Your boyfriend answered on the line.

You took a couple steps back, the hallway becoming longer and darker. The creature that looked like your boyfriend kept repeating his own name, your voice filling the room with an echo.

Run.

You dropped the phone and ran to the living room, a bloodcurdling scream came from your chest, and you ran up the stairs. Your feet getting stuck and falling a few times, you ran with your hands touching the walls, looking for a door. The lights were off, and the black was thick and dissolvable, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness by sheer force.

The creature came like a scared horse, you could hear the footsteps of four limbs crawling up the stairs. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, he said over and over. Your voice so anguished, this disturbing feeling of hearing yourself, drowned in thousands of other voices. The stomping stopped for a moment. Silence.

You stopped breathing, your drumbeat heart threatening to burst from your chest.

The hallway lit up with a flash of blue, the sudden lighting let you see a door and you walked softly; You felt the handlebars in the dark, and you rotated it. You entered, locking it.

Your breathing was so erratic and uncontrolled that you were afraid you would faint, your eyes threatening to go black.

If this is a nightmare, I'll wake up soon. Pepper will lick my face, I will hit the wall, and thunder will wake me up. Whatever, you prayed.

Luckily, in that room, there was a telephone that connected to the one in the living room. You took it in your hands, the line sounded strange, far away.

"Jimin, help. Please call the police. I'm going to die." Tears overflowed your face and neck. You whispered, crouched on the dusty floor of an unused office, the musty smell of old books on the shelves and cobwebs floating empty in the corners.

"Love?"

"Jimin. There's someone in the house, help." Your skin crawled as you heard Pepper barking downstairs.

"Hello?"

You frowned.

"Minnie-"

"Honey, hello, Pepper, help." He repeated with different tones, and different emotions, like stations on an old radio about to die.

It was too late when you realized that your right side felt colder, the wind blowing even when the windows were closed. You didn't move, air rushing out of your mouth. From the corner of your eye, you could see how the creature was forcefully morphing into Jimin's face, failing several times and starting again. The viscosity of his body molded to Park's profile.

"Pepper, love, love, love. Help," he repeated like an actor warming up his vocals to find the right tone. You heard a woman crying in their notes, a child, an old man. Their eyes drooped from their sockets and their elongated tongue rolled to the side before they swallowed it and had that of a human.

You moaned in pain, it was torture watching the creature contort in pain to become your boyfriend. You closed your eyes tightly. If this is a nightmare, I'm going to wake up now. Jimin will open the door with a bang and hug me when he sees me sweating. The fall of a tree will scare me so bad that there will be no way for my body not to shake, you prayed again.

Pepper's barking stopped. The cold dissipated next to you.

Risking a look around the dark room, you picked up the phone again. You still had faith.

"Jimin?" You whispered, saliva spurting from your mouth, you wiped away the mucus collecting on your cupid's bow.

"Hello? Jesus, you scared me." Hearing his voice again, you sighed, turning your body into a ball.

"I don't want to die today."

"Of course not, I'm here to protect."

"I want to call the police, but I don't want to hang up."

"Do not." He interrupted. "Is not safe."

Your sobs choked you, the thick drops falling to the ground. You were afraid to lift your head, the darkness felt like thousands of cold needles ready to stab you.

"Open the door."

"What?" Not a second after answering, the door began to shake with each touch. They were short and desperate. The light that filtered under the door revealed a shadow, some feet.

You crawled to the corner of the office, the door slamming again.

"It's me, love. Open up, nothing's happening."

You shook your head vigorously. If this is a nightmare, I'm going to wake up right now and-

"Open up, I'm scared. Please." The tremulousness in his voice chilled your blood. It's like it's really him. Were they imitating your pain?

"There is someone in the house, I'm afraid. Please open up."

"NO!" You bawled over and over again, grabbing your hair in pure psychosis. The door kept shaking.

Silence again.

The handlebars shook a few times, you heard the metal shake. Your heart reached your stomach when, with indomitable force, the creature moved the handlebars to the left. You could hear the machinery breaking under the resistance.

Clack, and just like that the handlebar was completely dislocated until the door was swinging open. It only opened a little, just enough to let one eye peek through. It was stalking you, ready to pounce if you moved.

"Do not kill me, please." You begged, already knew there was no escape.

The creature shook their head and opened the door, their clothes with several tears on their shoulders, barefoot, and messy hair.

"Can I?" He opened the door a little more. Their veiny hands and their black tongue did not go unnoticed. You knew you couldn't refuse, it was useless at this point.

You nodded.

Jimin, or rather The Creature, opened the door. He crouched down to your level and crawled until he reached your face, your noses touching. You clawed at the ground, trying to balance yourself so you wouldn't fall or faint. Jimin looked at your eyes, then at your lips. Seeing how you were breathing, he began to imitate your rhythm. That made you breathe even faster, his eyebrows raised imitating concern, fear.

"Don't kill me, please. Jimin," he repeated taking your voice. But it didn't seem like you were crying, more like you were moaning. Confused, you opened your eyes wider.

He smiled, revealing his perfect teeth.

Without letting you think too much, he grabbed your cell phone from his pocket and looked for you and Jimin's chat, the last thing he had sent was the video that Jimin wouldn't stop talking about. As if to explain his behavior to you, he touched the screen, letting the sound of your moans fill the dark void. He saw your confused eyes again, the light from the screen illuminating his curious, questioning eyes.

You shook your head as he held the phone closer to you, your boyfriend's erotic growls exploding in your ear.

"Get up, come on." said the video and the creature in unison. You obeyed and with brute force he held you by the waist, taking you out of the room and into the attic. You wanted to scream but your throat hurt, your hope disappearing with each kilometer of pure pine that distanced your possibility of being heard.

Jimin dropped you on the bed, his pupils dilated by the fire that had not yet gone out. Your body bounced.

"Clothes, take off." He watched impatiently as you removed your pants and panties.

He couldn't stand how slow you were. He took off his shirt, he didn't have the tattoo on his rib, a sign that it wasn't Jimin but a monster. His hands squeezed your waist until he had you on top of his head, resting on the pillows. You lowered your eyes until you saw his.

He seemed excited, eager.

Even with the pain, with the certainty that it wasn't him, the fear running through your veins…those lips, the pointed black tongue that uncurled, inviting you so vehemently to sit your pussy on it. How could you say no?

He moaned again. He wanted to imitate the video on your cell phone, wanted you to make those sounds again. Just for him.

His hand tightened on your waist, eliciting a squeal from you until he forced you to sit down, his tongue was warm and slimy, strings of saliva hanging from his tongue as he moved from your entrance to your hidden clit. You groaned in disgust at how your stomach burned, pleasure shrinking your chest.

"Mm," he grunted back, frowning, the tip of his tongue entering your pussy, it wasn't possible.

"God. Ji-" You bit your lip, stifling a moan. No. It's not Jimin. You had to remember that this thing was chasing you, it would probably kill you if you refused to do what it wanted.

If this is a nightmare…what then?

His hand ran down your back and tore your shirt until it was exposed, marks from the night before still fresh, pulsing bright red. Your hands dug into his hair that began to sweat, you were on the verge of cumming around his tongue.

"Squirt for me, princess. C'mon." He gushed from his throat, lifting you up to place two of his cold fingers on your clit, moving frantically.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You whimpered, legs shaking, the imminent end approaching.

"Fuck," he repeated, smiling, hitting it faster until he felt the droplets fall on his face. His lips parted in surprise, pupils widening as he heard you moan uncontrollably.

You were fucked, he had liked it. The worst thing was that you, too. You couldn't believe what you were going to ask for.

"More." You whispered.

"More." He stated, putting your juicy thighs around his neck and stood up until he threw you on the bed.

With one finger, he lowered the torn shirt until your breasts were visible. His rough hands groped your breasts, and you turned your face to the side, enduring the delicious torture. His tongue curled around your breast and he sucked it until your nipple was hard. The creature just laughed, letting the drool fall to his chin as he released it.

When he went to suck the other one, you felt something hard at your entrance, thick and throbbing. He didn't give a signal, he didn't ask, he didn't say anything when you felt your pussy open with stinging pain to make way for the hardest and widest cock you had ever felt. He gave no sign, he didn't even look at you. He just smiled, idolizing your tits like the monster he was.

You moaned in pain, sweat gathering on your forehead. You put your hands in his hair again, and the monster raised its eyes in surprise. It was his face, it was Jimin's, with his cheekbones and his pouty lips, red and swollen. You brought his face closer to kiss him, and he reciprocated.

With each time you felt the tip protruding into the skin of your tummy, you moaned even louder into his mouth. On a particular thrust, you felt your walls embrace the massive cock that was destroying your insides.

"Cum." They ordered slapping your clit ever so softly until you were a moaning mess under him. His gaze drank you in, you were beautiful: your eyes wide shut, your dry parted lips, the hair covered in sweat. Such a cute human in the middle of their woods.

When you opened your eyes, he was no longer there. You were covered by the bedsheets, and the fire had died a while ago, leaving a wisp of smoke floating. You raised your head, it was already daylight.

Pepper was barking, circling, and wagging her tail. You heard a car door closing. It was Jimin. Thoughts of the night before burned in your memory.

You checked your body: you were still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and you had no marks or bruises.

"Here you are." You squealed as Jimin hugged you from behind him, his soft hands and warm body. You closed your eyes, smiling. "Did you just wake up?" You nodded. "Did you dream about me, hm?"

"Vividly."

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Six / Part Seven (YOU ARE HERE) / Part Eight

A03

If the odd, small sounding Steve had been a weird pill to swallow, then the loudly swearing, furious one might as well have been a different person.

Worse?

He wanted Gareth and Eddie to stay behind.

“You are not going to the lab by yourself.” Eddie deadpanned, blocking the door while Steve acted like an agitated snake in front of it.

“You don’t understand.” Steve hissed, weaving back and forth on his feet, like he was trying to find a way out without bowling Eddie over.

Or breaking a window.

“Then help us understand!” Eddie shot back, throwing his hands up. 

Which was just the crux of the issue--because Steve seemed fine to talk about the lab being a horrible place, but kept refusing to answer why.

“You don’t have to tell us the full thing man, but give us something.” Gareth pleaded, hoping it didn’t come off as desperate as he felt.

Not his fault Steve was setting off his own anxiety.

The jock stepped back, running a hand through his hair and making a mess of it.

"I don't have the time." He stressed, anger, worry and pure fear mixing together in his tone.

In a mutter he added; "You wouldn't believe me anyways."

Tentatively, Gareth reached out, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

For the first time since they’d known each other, Steve didn’t react to being touched.

"Eddie and I are gonna go no matter what. So you can either give us a heads up now, or you can be mad at us later when we just follow you anyway.” Gareth said, a hell of a lot calmer than he felt.

Steve had turned partly to glare at him, but seemed to at least let the words sink in. To get through that no, really, they were going, and all this arguing was just wasting time. 

Not that Gareth trusted it. 

"I don't want you guys getting hurt." Steve burst out, and it looked like it cost him to admit even that much.

Like it was inevitable and all this was a Hail Mary attempt to keep them from that future.

Eddie seemed to pick up on it too, because he caught Steve's gaze and held it. "You're a part of Hellfire now. If you were in that lab, we'd be all coming for you. Not one of us--all of us.”

He followed it up by invading Steve’s space, jamming a finger into the jock's chest.

“I don’t know why you think we’d be okay with you getting hurt." Eddie stared hard at him, voice as serious as Gareth had ever heard it. “You’re our friend, too Steve. We’re not abandoning Tiff and the rest of the Scooby Doo gang, and we're also not letting you do something that has you this freaked out, alone.”

Which is what this all seemed to keep coming down to. How Steve was willing to throw himself at problems, how he kept wanting to handle his own issues, while trying to manage everyone else so that he was the only target.

The only person in the know, the only one in the line of fire. 

Like he was a burden instead of a person. 

Gareth kept wondering how the hell that had happened. If this had been anyone else he would have written it off as some macho bullshit, but Steve wasn't like that. He'd didn't need to be the one white knight. 

The fear he spoke with had always been too real, for that. 

It wasn't like they--or at least, Eddie and himself, hadn't picked up that something was happening, either. Something big. 

Given the weird, hushed conversations Steve kept have with Nancy, and Jonathan and even the kids sometimes…

Once, just once, Gareth had seen Steve talk to the Chief of Police. The asshole had looked awkward as hell, giving Steve a few pats to his shoulder, and Steve looking equally as awkward, leaning into it--but they looked like two people who'd gone through the same shit and now were stuck together. Not a police officer giving a warning to a teenager. Not even a family friend catching up. 

Something was up in Hawkins and now wasn't the time to dog Steve about it, but Gareth still wished he'd give them a hint. 

A tidbit, a morsel, of what the fuck had him so riled up.

“And if all this means our friends are in danger, then we're absolutely going too.” Eddie continued, nearly nose to nose with Steve.

Steve put his hands on his hips, frustration written all over his face--but he didn’t step away. "I don't think you'd be okay with it, it's just-- I'm just--already involved! This is how it’s been."

As if that wasn’t fucking alarming.

"And now, so are we.” Eddie threw back, pointing at the phone. "It’d help if you at least told us what to watch out for, but if not then we need to stop arguing so we can go help.”

That definitely got through.

Steve tapped a foot, blowing out a breath and overall acted as if Gareth and Eddie were the ones being unreasonable here.

(Or a pissed off single mother of six, not that Gareth was voicing that image.)

"Fine." He snapped finally, pinching the bridge of his nose and backing away from Eddie. “Fine! But you listen to me when we get out there, and if I tell you two to run, I need you to trust me and run.”

A grin tried to blast across Eddie’s face, the smug one he wore when he won and he knew it, but he covered it up before Steve saw.

Gareth doubted it’d take much to slide Steve right back into trying to keep them at the trailer, or straight up pull some dirty ass move to force it.

(He belatedly wondered if he should worry about Steve trying to stab one of Eddie’s tires out, but didn’t think the older teen would go that far.

Not yet, anyway.)

"I wasn't kidding when I said you wouldn't believe me." Steve spoke over his shoulder, blowing through the door the second Eddie got out of the way, marching down the steps to his Beemer. "But let’s just say that lab did a lot worse than create shit like rabid dogs, and a few of their creations might still be there. Grab a weapon!"

“I thought there wasn’t any rabid dogs!” Gareth protested at the same time Eddie said;

"So the cops can get us on felony charges? What is trespassing not enough for you?"

Eddie shook his head, following Steve down to the gravel. "No thanks, man!"

“I never said their weren't rabid dogs at all, I said--wait, who told you that?” Steve asked, trying to turn and face Gareth but Eddie simply pushed him forward, kept him moving.

“They’ve waited for us long enough.” He whispered lowly, as Gareth scrambled about for something to use.

Managed to fetch the fire poker he knew Wayne kept around to scare away coyotes, or rival drug dealers, or anything else wandering about.

If Steve said bring a weapon, he'd bring a damn weapon.

Felony charges or not.

"The cops won't charge us. Not as long as Hopper’s the one who gets there first.” Steve said and the desperation in his voice had faded a little, revealing something hard and self-assured underneath.

Not cocky, but with the strength Hellfire had when approaching a boss or baddie they had conquered once before and were familiar with. 

"And if El's involved? He will get there first." Steve said firmly, whipping the backdoor of his car open and yanking a bag out.

A bag that had muffled squawking coming out of it.

Steve snatched a walkie talkie out from it, interrupting a stream of high pitched, upset nonsense coming out the tinny speakers.

Gareth caught someone half asking, half yelling if "-literally anyone could pick up!" before Steve hit the talk button.

"What's happening!?" He demanded, as he slammed the car door and stormed to the trunk.

"Steve!" Several voices yelled at once, the speakers shrieking in static feedback.

One beat out the others, as its owner screeched into the walkie in a tone that only children under fourteen and small dogs seemed to be capable of. "Where the hell have you been!? We called a code red an hour ago!"

"Bitch later Henderson, explain now." Steve commanded, picking out a bat with fucking house nails hammered into it.

Several of which were stained a rusted, blood-red.

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing Steve with his mouth ajar as the nails gleamed lazily in his porchlights. 

Gareth couldn't blame him; his own heart had just picked up speed.

Steve gave the bat two experimental twirls, flipping it easily in his hand, before he seemed satisfied. Both the weapon and the movement worked together, elevating Steve into something straight out of the fantasy novels Hellfire traded around.

Like a fucking paladin come to life.

Gareth felt his breath hitch at the way it highlighted the guy's biceps, already on display since Steve had shoved his sleeves up. The movement was so smooth and well practiced that it was clear this was his weapon of choice--and that he’d definitely used it before.

Gareth wasn't even attracted to Steve Harrington, but one couldn't be blamed for having eyes.

"Mike insisted he saw lights on at the lab, and Will thought he might have felt something--" Henderson started, before being abruptly interrupted by someone on his end.

"He did feel something, Dustin!"

"Shut up, I'm talking to Steve!”

"Stop arguing and give me the short version. You're all in the lab?" Steve cut in.

‘It should be illegal to sound that annoyed while moving like that.’ Gareth thought idly, as Steve dropped the bat to the ground, then propped it up against his car.

He waved Eddie and Gareth over, one hand going to cover the walkie talkie’s speakers as it spat static. ‘Pick one.’ He mouthed, in the exact same way Gareth’s mom did when she was trying to talk to him and someone on the phone at the same time.

With a short glance at each other, they went.

"--we got to the lab and El and Max were already here--" Dustin tried again, and once again was talked over, making the conversation extremely hard to follow.

Kids, God.

"-You told us to meet you here-"

"-and there were these older kids running around-'

"-excuse you, tiny bratling, we are not kids-"

"Was that Grant?" Gareth found himself asking, as Steve waved a hand above his open trunk distractedly, like a vendor showing off wares.

Except instead of trinkets, it held a gun, a knife and a fucking candlestick.

The latter of which sported another suspicious red stain.

There was a second explosion of noise, and what sounded like multiple walkie's being fought over before a young, female voice came on, its owner having apparently won the tug of war.

"The idiots thought they saw something but it turned out to just be some teenagers breaking into the lab for fun." She scoffed, and sounded suspiciously like a Tiff Jr.

It took a second, but Gareth finally placed the voice to the redheaded girl--the one who rolled her eyes a lot.

"The wall and part of the floor collapsed, some guy fell through a hole into a locked room and El thinks the collapse wasn't an accident." The words were spoken rapid fire, like a front line soldier relaying information. "She and Will both feel something."

Eddie picked up the knife while Gareth simply held up his fire poker.

Steve nodded to them, and closed the trunk.

"Can you all get out of there safely?" He asked.

"El thinks if we leave, the--thing here will attack the guy that's stuck."

'Thing' Gareth mouthed to himself.

Not a person.

Not a dog, or bear, or--anything else.

A thing.

"Fuck." Steve spat, taking his hand off the talk button so no one on the other side heard.

"She and Will aren't sure what it is yet but they're thinking it's from the Upside Down."

After a brief pause wherein someone could be heard shouting in the distance, she sarcastically added; "Honestly I'm happy to leave the guy that's stuck here, he's really annoying--"

"No sacrificing Stewart!" Steve snapped instantly, and despite all the swearing and dramatics, having contact with the kids seemed to ease something in him.

His movements were no longer frantic, back and shoulders looser.

Even the way he talked seemed to unclench, like he'd been told the worst had come and now that it was finally here, he could deal with it.

"If you're sure, because I'm pretty sure Billy is gonna start looking for me soon." Max argued.

Steve groaned. "I'll handle him if he shows up."

For the first time since Steve had picked up the walkie, silence descended.

Gareth wasn't exactly an expert in such things, but it felt judgmental.

"Are you gonna handle it like the last time you handled it? Cause we don't have anything to knock him out with and I don't know if your head can--"

"Thank you Max, but I can deal with him." Steve cut in immediately, face flaming and yeah, they were definitely out of whatever protective crazy mode Steve had started off in. "This time I have my bat and backup. So unless your brother has taken to carrying stacks of plates around, I think I'll be fine!"

"Step brother." Max corrected immediately, huffing.

Then in a slightly quieter voice, she added: "Hey Steve? Get here fast."

"I'm coming. Steve over and out." He said firmly, like an older brother reassuring a younger sibling.

How the hell the guy had ever managed to appear like a heartless asshole was beyond Gareth.

Apparently it was beyond Eddie too because the guy was practically drooling with heart eyes in Steve's direction.

The kids signed off, before quiet, blessedly descended.

"Can I ask one question?" Gareth asked, as Steve cursed at the finally silent walkie talkie.

Steve stopped, entire chest heaving in a sigh.

"Yeah, one." He said, as though even that cost him a lot.

Out of the corner of his eye Gareth watched Eddie shake himself to awareness, and then try to flip the knife with the same move Steve used on the bat's handle.

He fumbled it immediately, chasing the blade as it clattered to the ground.

"Why a candlestick?" Gareth asked quickly, before Steve turned and witnessed Eddie's awkward, scrambling retrieval.

"Jonathan tends to grab the weirdest shit as a weapon." Steve responded. "He's used a trophy, multiple chairs, a lamp," he made an etc. all gesture, as if any of that actually explained things instead of causing about ten more questions.

"The candlestick actually worked pretty well so I kept it." He finished.

"Jonathan Byers?" Eddie said, holding the knife once more and clearly pretending he'd never tried to copy Steve. "How very Cluedo of him."

Steve frowned, nose scrunching in confusion. "Cluedo?"

"He means the game Clue. It's called Cluedo in Europe, Eddie's just a tabletop snob." Gareth rambled anxiously, because throwing Jonathan Byers wielding a candlestick into the mix was just the icing on top of the weird cake.

Part of him wondered if it would be rude if he asked Steve to spin the bat again, while the other part vaguely wondered if any of this was actually happening.

Maybe Eddie had accidentally laced the pot with a hallucinogenic.

(Frankly he wasn't sure how he'd have missed the addition of extra drugs, but hey; you couldn't say that made any more sense than Steve Harrington, small town golden boy, parading around with a fucking bat with nails in it, using a walkie talkie to speak to children about how a thing might try to attack one of their friends.)

The kid’s involvement at least, made a little bit of sense.

They were young but they weren't that young--and they also weren't as quiet as they thought they were.

Particularly not when they were riled up at the arcade.

Gareth knew the lot of them thought one of the girls had superpowers. He also knew they often pretended Will Byers, the kid who'd gone missing, had spent some time acting as a "spy" for whatever evil they all pretended to be battling.

He'd mostly assumed it was a D&D-slash- LARP kind of thing, or even just traumatized kids playing pretend to cope with what had happened, but now?

"I might have lied about just having one question." Gareth admitted as Steve picked up his bat.

"I'll explain some of it later, after we get them out." Steve said, as if Gareth might actually trust him to do so after doing his damndest to dodge giving an explanation. 

"Lead on, Sir Harrington." Eddie said before Gareth could say just that, like the lovestruck idiot he was. "We're going to need both cars to carry our wayward friends home, so Gareth and I will follow your lead."

Eddie spun his keys around his fingers, and given the smirk on his face, Gareth would bet money he was hoping it looked as cool as Steve's bat handling.

It didn't.

"Provided you promise to try not to lose us, because I've lived here all my life, I know where the lab is." He finished, and somehow managed to make the words sound fun and not the blatant warning it was.

Steve nodded once, hard. "Alright. Stay close to my car, and flash your high beams twice if you run into any problems--or see like, people in suites."

"People in suites?" Eddie asked, the knife still clutched awkwardly in his hand.

"Government agent kinda dudes, they're easy to spot." Steve said, like he was cautioning them to look out for deer darting across the road. "They usually look like they shouldn't be wherever they are."

"Alright." Gareth said, before his brain could come up with a list of questions regarding that.

Steve slung himself into the front seat of his car, Gareth claiming shotgun in Eddie's van shortly thereafter.

They waited to let Steve out first, and then stayed right on his tail as Steve promptly broke multiple laws to get to the lab.

"So this is all ominous as hell, right?" Eddie said, metal music pouring from the vans speakers and eyes on the taillights of the beamer.

"Oh dude, incredibly ominous. There was blood on that candlestick. " Gareth said, still in disbelief.

Whose candlestick had that even belonged to, originally? At what point in all this had Steve decided to hammer nails into a baseball bat?

Nevermind the weapon he was trying not to think about in the trunk of Steve’s car.

The gun.

Gareth knew instinctively why neither of them had gone for it. Eddie's father had drilled into him that the extra charge for carrying was never worth it and Gareth's own father had a firm "if you point it then you might as well have used it" mentality.

Steve didn't look like the kind of person to handle killing someone well himself, and yet the gun remained, locked up in the back of his trunk.

An option he'd offered to both Eddie and Gareth without bothering to fully fill them in.

"Blood on the bat too." Eddie said, dragging Gareth's attention back to the present.

Which at least, gave Gareth an opening for familiar ground. "I'm surprised you noticed that, given you looked like you lost all the blood in your head when he started swinging it around."

"Shut up." Eddie grumped, and though normally Gareth would tease him more, he found he just...couldn't. 

Not right now.

"I'm more worried that they all kept calling whatever the thing was…well. A thing." He said, because God was it bothering him. “I mean I guess it could be an animal still but the way they were talking about it…” He trailed off, uncomfortable.

"Personally I'm hoping for monsters." Eddie said.

Gareth turned to shoot him a look. "Seriously Ed’s?"

"Mmm. Because if it's not monsters Gareth, it's humans," Eddie tapped the steering wheel in time with Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls. "and humans scare me more than anything."

 Gareth leaned back, letting the seat absorb him, his own eyes sticking to the back of Steve's head. "I guess." 

Not that he wanted to deal with either.

Best case scenario in all this?

Everyone got out safely, and they drilled Steve into what the hell had happened to him, later.

Not that life was ever that simple.

xXx

Tiff met them outside the lab.

The place was desolate. Abandoned with the kind of tell-tale signs that boldly stated something awful had happened there.

Papers and a chair were still left in the guard shack and a phone dangling off the hook completing the look. The lab itself was dotted with broken windows, the corresponding shattered glass glittering all over the ground.

All it was missing was some lightning and it would be a great location for a slasher film.

One set of odd, claw-like marks on the ground later, right near where they all parked, and Gareth abruptly decided he'd rather focus on Tiffany rather than follow that thought more. 

Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her expression annoyed, but the dead giveaway to her freaked out status was the way she couldn't seem to stop moving. Not even after they’d gotten out of their respective cars and started towards her.

Gareth hadn't seen her this bad since the day she temporarily lost her SAT guide.

It didn't bode well for the adventure ahead.

"Finally." She complained as the trio approached. "Did you three stop for milkshakes on the way!?"

"Traffic Tiff, you know how it is." Eddie said with an easy smile and a wave of his hand.

She simply gave a pointed look at her watch before glaring back at them.

"Steve!" Someone yelled, and Dustin promptly launched out of some corner at the older teen, babbling a mile a minute.

“Slow down, God!” Steve interrupted, doing a clear head to toe sweep of the kid. “You okay? Everyone good? Nobody dead?”

“Not yet!” Dustin said chipperly, which caused Steve to swat at his hat.

“Are you okay?” Gareth asked Tiff, as Steve and Dustin began talking rapid-fire, in the kind of way that spoke of past events and made little to no sense to anyone not in the loop.

"Yeah." Tiff nodded stiffly. “Would have been a lot happier if Stewart had listened to me for once, but.” She shrugged, her version of ‘it is what it is.’

Eddie reached out, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Is everyone else in the lab?” He asked, peering about.

He got another nod. “The room the idiot’s stuck in is just up the stairs and down the hall a bit. I’m amazed he didn’t get hurt, he fell through the ceiling.” She shook her head, clearly worried and trying her best not to show it. “Everyone’s kind of been wandering between there and here, but the random children who showed up are insisting we all walk around in groups.”

She turned to eye Dustin, before looking towards the entryway to the lab.

“Probably a good thing given the wall collapsed, but they all think there’s some,” She huffed, arms shrugging helplessly. “monster lurking about.”

Gareth stared at the lab entrance for a moment, once again taking in random stains and smears that were all around them. Spotted a few more of those weird, elongated claw marks raking down the stairs, spread more like fingers than anything else, and the group of them that surrounded a suspiciously large stain in the entryway. 

“What made you guys want to explore the lab tonight anyway? It’s Thursday.” Eddie asked. 

This earned him a more animated eye roll.

“Would you believe me if I told you I owed Jeff a favor, and he owed Grant a favor, and Grant got into it with Stewart over whether or not the lab had glowing goo hiding inside?"

“Glowing goo?” Eddie and Gareth echoed as one.

“Like what Mikey the bartender was saying last time he was drunk? The whole thing with that weird green goo that fell out of some truck?” Gareth asked, and it wasn’t the stupidest thing that had riled up Stewart and Grant but by God was it up there.

Tiff sighed a second time, sounding pained. “Yeah. That goo. Stewart kept insisting Mikey got a “hot tip” that some military guys knew it was here,” Her fingers came up to make the quotation marks, somehow managing to make the movement sarcastic. “and wanted it moved over to that new mall they’re building. Starcourt.”

“So Stewart had to come see it.” Eddie finished, as if he wouldn’t have also been dying to go get a look.

Frankly, Gareth himself was slightly annoyed he and Eddie hadn’t been called upon as it were.

“Mikey also apparently believes something else wants the goo and chased the military guys who were here out of the building. That part must be going around, because the kids here are pretty insistent there’s a monster inside.” Tiffany added, waving a hand towards Dustin.

Eddie made a move to slung his arm over her shoulder, giving her a full body squeeze before letting her go.

Tiff allowed it, and for the briefest of seconds, even seemed to lean in.

“Hello Steve, nice murder weapon.” She greeted loudly, entirely unphased by the nail bat in his hands as Hellfire’s jock and his favorite small annoyance stepped up to them. “Having met your children, I have to say, your parenting skills are utter shit.”

Dustin frowned up at her, instantly offended. “Steve’s our friend.” He corrected, angrily emphasizing ‘friend,’ right over the top of Steve’s loud protest of;

“It’s not a murder weapon, jeez!”

“If anyone is lacking in skills it’s your little group’s!” Dustin cut in, waving a hand around. “Not one of you was prepared for breaking into the lab! No weapons, no back up, you’re the only one who even had quarters and one of you isn’t even wearing a jacket. If we hadn’t shown up you guys would have been in some real shit!”

Tiff stared flatly down at Dustin, ignoring Steve entirely. “Sure, pipsqueak."

“What are you guys even doing here?” Steve asked, before Dustin could fuss more.

“Glowing goo, apparently.” Eddie answered, moving with him.

Tiffany took the hint, starting to walk towards the stairs as Dustin trotted forward next to her, clearly intending to “lead” just as much as she was.

Gareth watched from the corner of his eyes as Steve automatically stepped to Dustin’s right, making sure the kid was surrounded on all sides.

‘Fuckin’ softie.’ He thought fondly, even as he gripped the fire poker he held in his hand tighter.

Eddie had managed to stow the knife away, making it vanish somewhere among his jacket and Judas Priest shirt, so it was just him and Steve looking like lunatics.

Thankfully, Tiff had spared Gareth her opinion on the fire poker. 

“Goo?” Steve asked, and unlike the rest of them, he sounded downright alarmed.

“So there’s this bartender at the Hideout.” Eddie started, launching into the story with a lot more pizzazz than Gareth thought it really required. He and Tiff traded glances, and Gareth got to see the exact moment Dustin’s eyes caught sight of Eddie and went dinner plate wide.

Gareth would have nudged Tiff, maybe made a joke about how Eddie was gaining a new sheep just by his terminal need to be the loudest person in a room, but a movement on the left caught his gaze.

Gareth stopped, as something unmistakably fleshy slunk back in the shadows, one weirdly shaped paw flashing as something caught the light. 

Fear raked through him, freezing Gareth dead to the spot, hands tightening on his fire poker.

“Hey, guys? He asked, interrupting whatever story Eddie had inevitably gone off of (likely one of the many, many backstories involving Mikey the bartender’s belief in UFOs) “That monster the kids think they saw. What uh, what’s it supposed to look like?”

“Why?” Tiff asked, at the same time Eddie yelled at him to; “Keep up, Gary, god!”

Gareth didn’t answer, instead staring deep into the shadows.

Nothing moved.

‘You’re seeing things.’ He told himself finally. ‘Unless it went through solid fucking wall, you would still be able to see it. You're just stressing yourself out because Steve’s being weird.’

Fuck knows it wouldn’t be the first time he thought he saw something when his anxiety started acting up.

"So Gare, did you bring the fire poker along because of the monster?" Tiff asked, amused, as she briefly dropped back towards him.

Clearly, she'd just been waiting for an opening to tease him about it. 

He flushed scarlet. 

"No!" He spat, hugging the thing closer.

A grin unfurled on Tiff's face, Cheshire-esque.

"I'm serious, Steve told us to bring it!" Gareth insisted, trying to look manly with it.

He knew he failed as badly as Eddie had earlier.

"You know, I'm starting to think Eddie's not the only one gone on our human fighter…" Tiff trailed off, raising one eyebrow, and causing Gareth to flip her off.

Thankfully that train of conversation was interrupted by loud arguing.

“We’re not cats Steve, you can’t just put us outside!” One of the kids was bitching, the group having caught sight of Steve and hustling over.

Jeff was seated on the floor in the hallway, one hand holding up his chin while Grant leaned against the wall next to him, both looking incredibly bored.

Across from them was a door that had looked like it had survived a full-blown seige. Cracks ran throughout the wood, and with the entire center of it bowed inward it was clear why no one could manage to get Stewart out of the room.

It was completely wedged in the frame, with thick enough edges to make it impossible to just pop it out by hand. 

The hoard of gremlins were harder to make out now that they were all clumped together, but Gareth quickly made out their very….unique outfits.

Only the girls had dressed normally, while the boys looking like they either were planning on robbing a train.

Bandana’s over their faces and all.

“Yes, I can actually.” Steve retorted in the exact same bitchy tone. "Tiffany can stay with you guys by the cars while the rest of us figure out how to get Stewart.”

"Thanks for volunteering me." Tiff said flatly, but alas, was ignored by the group at large. 

“Really? So you don’t want El to, you know. Help.” The terminally loud one spat.

“El’s gonna dump your ass if you don’t stop talking for her, Mike.” Steve warned, making the girl puff up proudly while Mike immediately cut a fearful glance to his girlfriend.

“And if El could have helped before, why wait for me to get here?” Steve continued, one hand on his hip, the other resting the nail bat over his shoulder, cutting in before Mike's scrambled apology derailed the conversation.

“I cannot move the door.” El admitted in that sort of flat, blunt way she spoke. “There is something here that is making my powers unstable.”

Steve pointed to her, face morphing into a clear “see?” gesture.

“Now unless Dustin is going to science the door open somehow--and I’m not saying you couldn’t,” Steve spoke the second part quickly, as Dustin’s mouth popped open, “then all of you are going to wait outside. Where the demo-the thing, isn’t.”

Gareth really, really hated how he kept referring to it as a thing.

One of the kids rolled their eyes and muttered; “We literally said we don’t know if it’s a--” and promptly got elbowed in the stomach for it.

Right.

Not suspicious at all.

“But we can help!” Dustin protested furiously.

Gareth wasn't sure if it was because Dustin truly thought he could help, or if it was because he wasn't used to the pushback.

For all that he was an only child, Steve had clearly inherited an older brother's prerogative of letting kids do stupid shit so long as he supervised (and typically, laughed at the outcome.

Gareth still fondly recalled the time Mike declared himself man enough to smoke.

Steve had conned him into chainsmoking outside the arcade until the kid finally threw up in the bushes on his fourth cigarette and declared Steve's smoking habit disgusting.)

“El could help.” Steve countered calmly. “Max probably, if I gave her my bat, but the rest of you are just moving targets. So make like a drum, and beat it.”

"That was lame, Steve." Dustin sniffed, while the other kids groaned loudly. “A real low effort pun.”

Steve just flicked his hand out in a shoo motion before leaning his bat up against the wall.

Jeff stared it before making immediate eye contact with Gareth, every inch of him screaming ‘what the hell!’

With a sigh, and an unfortunate side glance at Tiff, Gareth explained; “It’s for the monster.”

That at least, was easier than explaining Steve knew what was here and was doing his damndest not to tell them what it was.

Even if it made Tiff grin manically in his direction. 

His only relief was that Steve got her attention right after, calling "Heads up!" before tossing her his car keys. 

Because her hand eye coordination was superior to Eddie’s, she caught them easily.

If there's an emergency, get them out." Steve warned, voice just over the edge of too serious, losing the banter he’d kept up since they’d arrived.

"If there's an emergency we're coming back on to save your ass." Dustin snapped back, arms crossed, because of course he was listening.

“No.” Steve told him simply.

“Yes.”

“No, no, no-!”

Tiff let out a sharp whistle, the sound piercing in the echoing hallway.

"Gremlins with me!" She commanded, before catching Steve's eyes over their heads . "You fucking owe me, Harrington."

He nodded, before dropping a glare to the kids. "Just don't let them drive my car."

“God I can’t believe he’s still upset about that, it’s not like we fucked up the Camaro.” Mike complained loudly, allowing himself to be herded back outdoors.

“Max did hit a mailbox.” Lucas retorted, and then yelped a loud; “Ow, Max!” as he was presumably punished for voicing the fact out loud.

Their voices faded slightly as they went down the stairs, and Gareth managed to drag his attention back to the problem at hand.

One very fucked up door.

"Do you think we could kick it down?” Steve asked, as Eddie bent down to examine the door.

Refusing to look anyone in the face, Jeff said; “We may have tried that already.” 

“My darling lambs, you’re approaching this wrong.” Eddie cooed, and got several glares for it.

“The door might be fucked by the hinges here, are not. Looks like all I need is the right screwdriver and lucky for Stewart!--” He yelled his friend's name, banging on the door and no doubt hoping to spook him.

A muffled shout of “Screw you Munson!” was all he got for his efforts.

 “--I have my toolbox in my car.”

“Do I want to know what you have a toolbox for, Ed's?” Steve asked.

“Perfectly legal avenues only, I assure you.” Eddie replied, batting his eyelashes up at Steve innocently.

Grant and Jeff both gagged.

“Would the two of you gentlemen be so kind as to fetch me my box?” Eddie said, pulling out his keys and offering them up to Jeff. “I want to try one more thing. I don’t think it’ll work, but I can test it while you boys are gone.”

“He’s going to try to kick it in himself.” Gareth tattled flatly.

“I am not!” Eddie immediately denied, eyes wide in feigned hurt.

It was fake as shit.

“Let him!” Jeff said over as he got up. “That way I won’t be the only one getting made fun of for doing it!”

A car suddenly honked from outside, startling them all.

“Check that the shitheads aren’t murdering Tiff while you’re out there!” Steve called as Jeff and Grant took off towards the entrance, before moving out of Eddie’s way as he surged upwards.

“It’s more likely she’d be murdering them.” Eddie replied, and sure enough he was backing up like he was going to try and kick the door.

“Do you see how thick that thing is? The indent, here?” Steve sassed, pointing towards the giant dent slightly off center, where the door bowed inwards. “I’m pretty sure Jeff wasn’t the one who did that. These things are built to hold, man.”

“Ah but you’ve seen Jeffery's legs. Our beloved new cleric should stick to punching things, he’s not made for kicking.” Eddie said, tongue peaking out of his mouth as he sized up the door.

An odd, low chittering caught Gareth’s attention, the noise like nails on a chalkboard as the older teens continued to argue. 

“Have you seen yourself?” Steve asked point blank, hip cocked and bitch mode on. “You aren’t either.”

“Don’t be mean, Steven, just because I don’t have jock muscles--”

The chittering got louder, and Gareth found himself taking a few steps away from his friends, in the opposite direction of the stairs as he tried to figure out where the fuck it was coming from. 

A light at the farthest end of the long hallway gave out, barely noticeable. unless one was looking for it. Gareth hadn't even internalized the hallway had lighting, he'd been too busying with everything else--but it did. 

Likely the place had a backup generator, but that didn't explain why the lights in this hallway were on--and now, suddenly, giving out. 

'Maybe the kids did it...?' He thought, still trying to figure out why the chittering sounded like it was getting closer. 

“You’re going to break your leg.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you need to believe in people more Stevie? Have some faith?”

“I have faith that you’re face is about to hit the floor, does that count?”

Another light failed, giving the appearance of the hallway warping. Not all of it, just one weird wall, that seemed to stretch like something was trying to break out. 

"Okay but if I kick the door and it busts in, you owe me ten bucks."

"If you kick the door down not only will I give you ten bucks, Eddie, I'll go see that stupid new movie you won't shut up about with you." 

"Oh we'll be seeing Fright Night with or without my door busting talents--" 

Another light, out, and now Gareth could see a shape taking form. Later he'd swear it had actually, crawled out from the wall.

(Later, he'd find out the Upside Down creatures had a habit of doing that.)

He thought it was a tiger at first.

It has the same overall shape--long body with muscular shoulders, head low as it prowled forward.

Except the tail curled up over its back, hanging like a scorpion’s and its face…

It took a second for Gareth to make sense of what he was seeing.

The huge, oddly shaped bulb, like a flower’s before it unfurled.

Thick liquid drooled out from red tinged edges, dripping onto the floor. It was too far away to hear, but Gareth imagined the little plinks of noise it made anyway.

"Guys." He said, voice pitched impossibly high.

The Not-Tiger stepped further into the light, revealing it to be hairless.

Its skin was flecked red and grotesquely gray, with odd, thick folds of flesh hanging off its sides. Those pieces moved in weird little jerks and flutters, almost like another appendage entirely.

Another step forward, the weird, folded pieces of skin moving out and out and out on either side of it, hitching up in a U shape and oh, God.

They were wings.

'Lion body, scorpion tail, dragon wings.' A far off part of Gareth identified. 'It's missing the human face, but otherwise that's pretty dead on for a--"

"Manticore!" Gareth screamed, right as the things head split open into five petals filled with rows of fangs.

It screamed right back, then lunged at him, claws and teeth and tail all extending to attack.

[orange-imagines]

what do you think each of the mud dogs' love languages they find themselves most drawn to are? :0

Relationship: Romantic

A/N: I have so many opinions on this! I tried to keep these simple by saying the guys have the same giving and receiving languages, and I don't think it's far off tbf. AND to be clear: these guys love any form of affection, this is just what I imagine their favorites are.

Leonard

Physical touch and acts of service.

Although it's not as common as you may think, Len does have trouble expressing the way he feels through words sometimes, even when it comes to you. He gets easily lost inside his head with all his thoughts and feelings, so he naturally gravitates toward any form of affection that helps bring him down to earth with you. If he's ever having a rough day or needs some reassurance (though he has a hard time voicing when he does), you going out of your way to hold his hand or give him a hug will speak volumes to him. While he may not look like it to others, you know he loves surprise physical affection, and he's actually quite clingy. It's not even something he realizes, he just finds it very natural to enjoy sitting beside you wherever you two go, holding your hand, putting an arm around you, messing with your clothes or fixing your hair, coming up with any excuse to touch you. And when it comes to sitting next to you, he can get pretty bitter if someone else manages to snag a seat beside you while he has to sit in another spot further away. It doesn't help that this is something Mick does constantly (both on purpose and not- the little shit), but nobody's exempt from having Len glare at them the entire interaction because they stole his seat. If he's already had a bad day leading up to that, he may just forgo politeness in its entirety and shove the person out of the way in order to sit next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders and growling if the person tries to speak up. Yeah. He's only a little clingy.

Alternatively, he also enjoys you doing anything to help him with his responsibilities, whether that be chores around the apartment or lending a hand with the planning stage for the Mud Dogs' next heist. The latter can stress him out quite a bit, so if you want to bring him a cup of coffee and help him get his thoughts out by bouncing ideas back and forth, he'll just fall more and more in love with every word you say. You're definitely his preferred planning partner, and he's not afraid to admit it in front of the others.

His favorites moments of domesticity come from the two of you helping each other out with things at home. You washing dishes while he dries them, you cooking something and him stirring the pot for five seconds when you have to step away- any little mundane thing that would be boring if he wasn't doing it with you. He also really likes it if you hug him from behind while he's got his attention on something else, though he's likely to abandon whatever it is and start kissing you in the middle of the kitchen if you do. And that's how you guys have burned dinner on more than one occasion <3

Danny

Words of affirmation and quality time.

C'mon, he rattles off pet names and praises like he was born for it. This guy loves his words. Even after you two get together, he takes every opportunity to talk you up and flirt with you- you could be five years into your relationship and he'd still put in maximum effort to get you to go on dates with him. A good deal of his charm comes from his words, and although the things he says might seem a bit too smooth and rehearsed, you can tell he's not just saying things for the hell of it. He hangs on your every word when he's flirting with you, wanting to see if you like what he's doing or if he should change something up- and he doesn't act like this with anyone else. Once he has his sights set on someone romantically, they've got his full attention, and they and they alone are subjected to all his cheesy pickup lines and tooth aching flattery. Even outside of his flirting, he's very sweet and open with what he thinks about you, so there's nothing to stop him from giving you compliments and praise on the day-to-day, whether it's about how you look, things he likes about your personality/how your mind works/how you interact with him and the others, he's almost always got a kind word to say about you. He will run his mouth nonstop if you let him.

He also finds the time he spends with you very important, especially when it's just the two of you (he loves the boys, but sometimes he just wants quality time with his partner). He loves seeing you come home in the evening and being able to ask you about your day, or when the two of you can sit on the couch together and just unwind in each others' company. He also really appreciates physical affection during moments like this, either getting to trace patterns on your hand or play with your hair. He'd spend the whole night awake if it meant you were laying on his lap and telling him about your day while he ran and hand through your hair and listened to you for hours.

Mickey

Quality time, physical touch, and gift giving.

The thing about Mick is that he almost always wants to be in your space. If you have a bubble and need moments where he isn't right next to you all the time, please tell him and you can work it out, because otherwise he'll practically be in your lap at any given opportunity. He just loves getting to hang out with you and be physically close to you while he does. If you guys are spending some time alone in the apartment (gossiping, eating, almost killing each other over video games) and he gets to lay in your lap, wrap himself around you, or even just hold your arm or hand, he's completely satisfied. It's a routine that makes him feel very safe and loved, and any reassurance that you love him + want to be with him is best given in this form. He appreciates being told both those things, but to him, actions speak louder than words. Especially when he's so used to people saying one thing and doing the opposite- he likes that you can prove you actually want to be with him by...being with him. Yeah, he has pretty low standards sometimes.

Another thing that'll come up throughout your relationship is gift giving. While he isn't a fan of the standard model of this (he doesn't like receiving fancy or expensive gifts, and he isn't likely to give them unless it's something he's stolen), he really, really enjoys finding knick knacks around the Hidden City and bringing them back to you because he thought of you when he saw them. These are always things that have no real value: a figurine of a character you like that he got from the dump, a piece of glass in your favorite color, a cool rock, etc. But they all came about by him actively thinking of you and remembering things you told him about yourself, so they're very sweet! He always has the biggest grin on his face when he hands them over to you, so if you like them, it'll make him even happier. And if you ever want to return the favor by scavenging for something worthless but extremely personal for him, he'll keep it forever and won't let anyone touch it (not even you. He trusts no one but himself with it. That's his prized possession).

[lunatic-pudge]

Postal 2 and 3 Dudes Competing for Reader (and Then Learning to Share :D) (Requested by Loco)

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

THE POSTAL GRIND WILL NEVER DIE. CAN'T STOP, WON'T STOP TIL DUDE IS REAL AND BECOMES MINE. I JUST WANT ONE NIGHT WITH THIS FILTHY MAN. PLEASE.

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

-Oh my god, these two goobers are RIDICULOUS, I swear. The way P2 is always five seconds away from murdering P3 and P3 just constantly messing with P2 means more to me than you could ever understand

-They're constantly trying to one up each other. If one gets you a gift, the other is taking it as a challenge and attempts to get you something better. Due to the constant one-upping, they tend to forget that they're trying to woo you rather than show who the better one is. It starts with cute things like plushies, but then devolves into some weird and questionable things. Like, I don't think you should be giving someone lingerie as a way to win a person's affection over, but that's just me

-Yes, they have fought each other in front of you. I feel like P3 would have a more "muscular" (dad bod) than P2 so I'm sure who you can imagine who is winning these fights. It's best you just sit on the sidelines til things start to go bad. Once the weapons come out is when you should attempt to intervene

-How you put up with these two is beyond me. At some point you're gonna have to sit them both down and have a talk, explaining how you were willing to them how you were fine with being with the both of them at the same time, BUT, they had to stop fighting and learn to get along

-It was a fair compromise, really it was, but it had a rather rough start. While both Dudes were willing to accept this compromise, it wasn't easy to just stop fighting and stop the one-upping. Think of them like cats, you gotta keep them separated for a few days and slowly introduce them to each other.

-The best thing to do is to take them out on dates individually. Spend some one-on-one with them. But make sure to an even amount of time with both of them, cause they will notice and it will cause problems

-Okay, so you know how in Paradise Lost, P2 and P3 (technically Alt Dude but plz hear me out. He's dressed like P3 so we're calling him P3 for the sake of this) argue about who Champ belongs to, going back and forth with the "No, he's my dog.", yeeeaah, they're gonna do that with you. You three be in bed cuddling (with you in the middle, obviously), all is good, all is well, until one of the Dudes gets on their high-horse and declares that you're their partner. The other Dude will not tolerate such malarkey and immediately goes into the, "No, they're my partner." Yes, they will keep going back and forth on it til you stop them. But it's also very funny so enjoy it before it becomes annoying

-To be honest, I feel like once P2 and P3 accept that they gotta share you, they make for a very fun (and strange) set of boyfriends. They'd take you on some of the wildest dates. They tend to argue on the type of dates they'd take you on. Usually, they'll wrangle you in one of their cars and go out and away from society. It makes a great away to get away from the stress of life, but also gives them the ability to have a little bit of "fun" with you wink wink

-These two goobers are so similar, yet so different at the same time. P2 is this snarky, sarcastic, and violent man while P3 is just there. No thoughts, head empty. While they may collide in personality, they can agree on certain things

-First, being overprotective of you. Both Dudes can be "protective" of what's theirs so they don't like when people try to mess with you. P2 isn't scared to get violent and P3 is scarily good at hiding the body and any evidence (well he was a police officer in the game sooo…). Most of the time, you'll never know this happens. They're both good at keeping quite. If anything, you're better off staying blissfully unaware of what goes on

-Another thing is that they both crave attention and physical affection, P3 moreso than P2 though. Sometimes affection can be a lot for P2. He has times where he needs to be by himself cause he's not doing well mentally, and being alone is what helps him cool down. But P3 has very big golden retriever, lap dog energy. He is always wanting to spend time with you and for you to love all on him. He will constantly by your side, touching you in someway (like hand holding, nothing inappropriate… yet). But, my god, will these two just dog pile on top of you when you least expect it. I hope you don't have any plans later tonight, cause once the cuddle pile starts, it won't end for hours

[supercorpkid]

Ace Reporter - Final Part

Supergirl, Kara Danvers x Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader

Word Count: 3940.

You roll in your hotel bed thinking about the cheap shot you threw at Kara earlier. You've hated Kara for the longest time, with the burning passion of a thousand suns. But only because it was a lot easier to blame your failure on someone else. And while you were many kilometers away from her, you got away with it pretty effortlessly.

That was until you met her.

And Kara was nothing you built her up to be. No vulture trying to steal the spotlight, no untalented lucky bastard, no nerd with no life. Kara is the opposite of every single flaw you embedded her character with.

And yet. You can't, for the life of you, admit the truth. Because if you did, if you finally took Kara out of the equation, you'd see that the reason why you didn't get the prize, and then the promotion, and the reason why your career got side-tracked is because you didn't try enough. You yield to your editors every wish. You let Lois Lane and Clark Kent go on every single assignment you were more than capable of doing. You never stood up for yourself.

So you think about Lena's offer while you march into CatCo the next morning, with no idea on whether you'll be walking through these doors everyday from now on, or never again. 

Kara is awkward and barely amicable when you get there. You want to apologize, but you don't do it. You hold your truth even though it is a lie. 

It would be a lot easier to write the article together if you two were at least talking to each other, instead of sending emails back and forth while she is at the desk next to yours. In fact, you only regret taking so long to write and review it, when the last person makes their way out of the office and you're left alone with Kara.

You sigh for the hundredth time. 

"I'm sorry, is this bothering you?" Kara smirks, making as much noise as she can on the chair. You narrow your eyes at her.

"The chair, or you in it?" You bicker. She raises her eyebrow, and you look at her waiting for the comeback, but it's cut off by your phone ringing next to you. "I have to take this. Here, wear my noise canceling headphones and keep out of my private conversation, Supergirl."

Kara sighs, picking it up from your hands and putting it on. She yells. "SAY SOMETHING SO I KNOW IT WORKS."

"Yeah, it works."

"HUH?" You roll your eyes at her. "HEY, THIS IS GOOD! IT ACTUALLY WORKS! CAN I BORROW IT SOMETIME?"

You breathe deep before picking up the phone, knowing you'll need all of your patience for this conversation with your editor. "Yes?"

"Where is my quote, Y/L/N?"

"I don't have it yet."

"What do you mean you don't have it yet?" He is clearly stressed, so you prepare yourself for the upcoming outburst. "You were in the plane with Lena Luthor and you went to fucking Kaznia," His voice raises up in a crescendo. "And you're telling me you don't have one fucking quote I can use in an article? I don't think you realize this is a job assignment! You're not in National City to make friends, you fucking moron." You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn't even give you time. "Had I known you were so fucking stupid I wouldn't have sent you! Clark told me you're good at finding people's secrets, well I think you're good at wasting company's money! Pack your things and get back here. You'll be lucky if I give you dog shows after this!"

He hangs off the phone and you look at it. Tears welling up on your eyes, and whisper. "I have something better.” 

Kara turns on the chair, and is met with your eyes full of tears. She ditches the headphone on the desk and basically runs towards you. “Hey, hey.”

“I’m fine!” You snap, cleaning your tears aggressively. 

“Y/N…” She tries with a sweet voice.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Danvers!” You clean your nose with your hand. Tears come back to your eyes immediately. “I don’t need your pity, I know prize-awardee-Kara is much better than me and-“

Your words are cut off by her arms quickly evolving you. Your head is trapped between her chest and her arms in an almost bone-hurting hug, and you hate how much you love this. "You're alright." She makes sure, then whispers almost to herself, "I've got you. I've got you."

You can't tell for sure, being face deep into Kara's chest, but you think you feel a kiss being planted on the crown of your head, with sweet reassuring words coming right after. And you cannot not cry. No matter how much you try to be strong, and unbothered, and better than Kara Danvers. Right now, inside her embrace, is the safest you've ever felt in a long time.

It's a while before you can finally whisper, “I’m alright.” 

Kara lets go of your head. There are no more tears wetting your face, because they’re all wetting her cardigan. Her stupid, comfortable, nice scented cardigan. You want to say something, apologize for this ridiculous and weak behavior, you want to beg her to forget this ever happened, instead you say nothing.

“Ok.” Kara says, a trying smile. “Food break!”

And proceeds to order from her favorite Chinese restaurant because you have to try her favorite potstickers in the world and not another word is commented on your cry for help. And soon you're both back to the old ways. Can't really describe it better because what are the old ways? Flirting? Laughs and banter? Working so well together it reminds you of Lois and Clark? Whatever it is, you're back at it.

“Hey.” Kara waves her hand in front of your face. “The article is amazing, there are no typos or grammatical errors. You’ve reviewed it enough. Let’s go celebrate!”

"Celebrate?" You make sure. "What are you celebrating? Lex is still on the loose, you and Clark will still have to deal with it."

"Yeah, but we finally finished the article!" Kara beams, excitedly, touching your arm. She doesn’t know that you actually don’t have a quote yet because you’ve been debating with yourself whether you’d like to move to National City or not.

"Oh, so we're celebrating that I'm leaving." It’s what you choose to go with.

"What? No! That's not - I didn't - No." She fumbles and you make a real effort not to let your feelings show. It's really hard to hold back the truthful smile you wish to give to her adorable confused face.

"Relax, Danvers. I know what you meant. You could never celebrate that I'm leaving when you're so in love with me." You joke with a smirk, but are you really just joking or is this another failed attempt to not flirt with her? 

Kara also laughs, even though it sounds pained and strangled on her chest. Not funny. Not funny at all. 

"You know I can just come and visit, right?" Kara says, a dorky smile filled with double meaning and secrets. You hold back your own dorky smile, but it's getting harder by the minute. 

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Kara looks at you fondly, a smile still playing on her lips, because she knows better now and so you roll your eyes. "Don't count your victory too soon, Danvers. Lena offered me a job at CatCo."

"She did? That’s so great!” She celebrates, eager to have you close. Then she thinks about it for a second, not sure what it means. “And, um, are you? I mean, staying?"

You breathe deep, looking outside the window. You could get used to this view. You could get used to doing some actual investigative journalism even if it means you getting punched in the face from time to time. You could get used to Kara’s dorky face even if you want to punch her most of the time. 

You look back at her, kind blue eyes filled with anticipation and clear adoration, “I don’t know, Danvers. There’s probably space for just one investigative reporter in this magazine. You know I don’t like sharing the byline.”

“God, Y/N. Is that the only thing you think about?” Kara steps closer, her hands shake a little when she reaches out. “Don’t you ever think about sharing something more than a byline with someone?”

“Like what?” You ask, but you know the answer. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes. It’s clear as day when you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. It’s screaming at you in bright light and you are making sure you close your eyes so you don’t see it. 

“Life, maybe?” Kara’s hands travel slowly from your arms past your shoulders and up your neck.

“Life?” You parrot. Mouth running awfully dry, eyes so glued to Kara’s, you can’t even blink. And you only realize you’ve been holding your breath for so long when your lungs beg for it. 

“Yeah.” Kara Danvers stops staring at your eyes and stares at your lips instead and you’re so close you can’t help but dare a look at hers as well. Soft, pink, kissable.

“But maybe we can start simpler.”

“Oh?” It’s a strangled sound coming out of your lips full with want, but lacking oxygen.

“Maybe-” Kara’s hands make way to the nape of your neck, fingers brushing your hair gently and then, suddenly, not gentle at all when she grabs it, almost demanding.

If you want this to stop you gotta say something now! This is your chance! Stop your lips from meeting your almost-nemesis lips right now! 

“Maybe we can share a kiss.”

Your eyes widen even though you saw it coming, but when Kara’s face comes closer, your eyes just close, unwillingly. Wanting, needing, ready for what’s coming next.

You don't stop her when her face comes closer; you don't stop her when you feel her shallow and anxious breath on your cheek; you don't stop her when her lips lightly brush on yours asking for permission; you don't even stop her when she takes a second to utter your name out of her lips so full of desire and passion.

"Y/N, Rao."

And your heart stops when she finally takes your lips into hers, and you can't even think about how you'll have to fight anyone who says it was you who deepened the kiss, even though it was indeed your lips and your tongue that made the first move.

You stop thinking of how this is the lips of your almost-nemesis. You fail to see how this might ruin your reputation. When Kara's tongue slides into your mouth, and her demanding hands tightens around the nape of your neck and your hips, your brain cannot function properly to see all that is wrong with this, and the only thing it wants is more.

More of Kara. More lips and kisses. More hands on hips. You don't think you can get any closer to her, but you want to be close, and then closer. 

The closer you can get without letting her know how much you're loving this. Even though you're pretty sure she can tell by how hot your entire body feels, like you're being set on fire by your desire. Even though she can feel you're running out of oxygen and yet you have not tried to separate your lips to catch some air. You're sure she can listen to your heart beating almost out of your chest and the tiniest moans out of your mouth. She probably feels your arms so strongly wrapped around her, pulling her fully into you. Yes, Kara probably can tell you're as turned on as she is right now when her leg slots right between yours.

And that is so close, but still not close enough. You want to be the closer you can get without letting Kara know how much you truly like her. 

Your brain finally catches up, when you think about how much you like her, instead of how much you dread her. 

"This was a bad idea." You get away from her so fast, she is left dumbfounded, breathless, red cheeks and mouth wet. It makes you want to go back and kiss her some more because she looks dazzling. Gorgeous. Perfect. 

Instead, you force yourself to turn your back at her, quickly grabbing all of your stuff and making your way out of the office. 

"What?" Kara is finally able to come out of her shock. 

"You and I, it's not, it's just not-"

"It's not what? Right? Gosh Y/N, will you stop with this 'I hate you' act and admit your true feelings?"

You bite your lower lip, looking at her from the elevator, when it dings, you just step inside. "Fuck off, Danvers. Not everyone loves you."

You make it out of CatCo, and dare a last look behind yourself. You hope you never have to cross these doors again in this lifetime, because if you do you don't think you'll be able to separate your lips from Kara's again.

Lena texts you as soon as you get to your hotel room. You ignore the text until after you pack your bags, but you can't ignore her forever. She invites you to have lunch with her at L Corp the next day, and you think it's a good opportunity to ask her for a quote before you go back to Metropolis. It is the least you can do, anyway.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation.” Lena points to the balcony. “You told me you liked the view. So I thought we could eat outside.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t talking about that view.”

Lena gives you a knowing smirk. “I know, darling.”

You follow Lena to the balcony, fancy food displayed on the table, the prettiest view of National City. Nothing like the potstickers and beer from last night. And yet, it doesn't seem to catch your attention any more than the improvised dinner on Kara's tiny work desk.

“So, have you thought about my proposition?” You open your mouth to tell her the news. “Before you say anything, remember I’ll be your boss and I can give you lots of benefits. Not at work, but definitely somewhere else.”

Lena winks at you and oh God, what have you got yourself into?

“Y/N, I really want you to stay.”

Your heart drops on your chest and the words fall out of your mouth without you being able to give a second thought to them. “I have to go.” 

You get up from the table, making your way out of Lena’s office. Your escape is put to a stop by her hand, pulling you towards her. 

You bump into her, face-to-face, bodies so close you can feel her warmth, flesh with flesh. Lena is staring right at your lips.

“Don’t run from this.” She whispers, breath hot on your own mouth and then, just like that, her lips touch yours and oh my God, what’s happening? Lena separates her lips, taking yours into hers and you can’t. Just can’t.

“Stop. I-I can’t.” She blinks at you, confused. “It’s not you, it’s-“ Lena is one second away from rolling her eyes, expecting a ‘it’s me’ out of your mouth, but it never comes. “It’s Kara.”

“Kara?” Her shock is visible, undeniable. To be honest, yours is too.

“Kara kissed me.”

“Oh!” Lena steps back, out of your personal space.

“And I hate her, I do. And you’re also the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen-“

“But?”

“I think I’m in love with her. I think I’ve loved her the whole time.” 

You see Lena's surprised face, and you're surprised too. Probably even more so than she is. How could this happen? How could all of that hatred and annoyance have just turned into love? How is it possible that when you hear Kara's name you don't want to roll your eyes because she is irritating, but rather because she is not here next to you. Was this love all along? Were you blinded by your fury and didn't see the obvious? Ugh. Why does Kara Danvers make you feel so many things? And why are all of them confusing as hell?

"I'm sorry." You walk a bit farther away, back turned to Lena in clear embarrassment, because let's be honest, you have been leading her on. "I promise you I'm just as confused as you are. I really thought I hated her."

"Well," Lena's voice is back to normal, no more shock. "Love and hate is such a thin line." 

"I'll get out of your hair." You start walking towards the door, but Lena holds you by your shoulder.

"Y/N, I meant what I said about the job in CatCo." She rounds you, so she can look at your face. "You and me, it was never a condition for it to happen. You are way too talented and I'd be stupid to let you get away." You blink your eyes in confusion, and she nods at you slightly. "Please, take the job. I promise it won't be weird in any way. Kara is my best friend and I see the way she looks at you. And now that I know your feelings towards her, I'll be the biggest supporter, trust me. Just don't let that almost kiss stop you from making a life-changing decision."

She is right. Lena Luthor is so right. It's time for you to finally stop sabotaging yourself. It's time to try harder than you've ever done. It's time to be honest for the first time.

You can't wait any longer, you've waited too long to tell her. You hid it (not so well) from yourself and the world for longer than you should've, so you can't anymore. It has to be now so you run out of Lena’s office and into the park adjacent.

"SUPERGIRL!" You yell, and yell and yell her name a few times until Kara lands in front of you. "God, what took you so long?"

"Caught a little bit of air traffic." She says with a doofus smile and you can't, won't fight yours anymore. So you smile at her joke, the biggest one you've let people see in a while. "Do you have an emergency?"

"I do." But you can't do this while she is in her Supergirl attire, because even though they are the same person, Supergirl isn't the one you fell in love with. You fell for dweeb Kara Danvers way before you learned her secret. "I need to talk to Kara Danvers."

"What?" Kara asks, confused. Given she is right in front of you and you know that all too well.

"You don't get it, Supergirl. I need to talk to Kara Danvers right now or I'll die. It's a real emergency." 

Kara tilts her head looking at you, confused. You keep running from Kara Danvers and saying the most mean things you can think of, and now you’re in front of her saying you’ll die if you don’t talk to her. Takes her a while, but she finally picks you up and flies you to her apartment. She disappears into her bedroom and comes back a full minute later into your sight, with her real doofus clothes. 

You can't really explain what happened to you when you saw her. Come to think of it, you haven't been able to explain half of the things that happened on this trip to National City. But your heart did a weird loop, your breath got stuck on your lungs and fuck, you had to kiss her right there, right then.

You run towards her, jumping on her arms and she catches you in shock, but you're so fast to kiss her, she can't even overthink this whole thing. 

So you kiss her, and kiss her. Until there's no air left in your lungs, until you realize her dweeb face is your favorite thing in the world, until you both fall into her bed entangled in each other.

"What is happening?” She manages a whisper in between kisses, unable to stop herself from kissing you, even though she doesn't truly understand what's going on.

"You were right. God, you are always right. You're my favorite person in the universe even though I hate you sometimes." She has a dorky smile, the one you would normally want to slap it out of her face, but instead you just kiss her again and again. "I never knew I could feel all of these emotions for just one person. Never realized I could feel so safe inside the embrace of the biggest nerd I know." Kara can't contain her happiness and you can't stop but showering her face with kisses. "I hate to admit when I'm wrong, but I was. I was fighting this feeling because it scared me, how-how could I like someone so much already?”

Kara’s smile reaches her eyes, she literally lights up when you say that and while a few days back you’d want to bring her down, now you just want her to be the happiest she can be.

“But you, Kara Danvers, you really do make it easy for people to like you that fast, don’t you?”

Kara kisses you, softly. “I wouldn’t say you liked me that fast. I mean, you were basically insulting me daily for two full weeks.”

“You have a real dorky face.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, but you like it.”

“I really do.”

And you thought it would be the hardest thing for you to admit. But right now, inside Kara’s embrace with her face so close to yours, you realize it is a lot easier to tell her the truth then fighting it so incessantly like you have since you got here.

"Can't believe we went from enemies to lovers."

"You were never my enemy. You're way too cute for that." Kara raises her eyebrows ready for a comeback. "And only half evil, anyways."

"Oh, you're getting quicker with the comebacks." You smile when you see how excited Kara gets with the compliment. "I still wanna punch your dorky face sometimes."

"Why don't you punch it with your lips." Kara raises her eyebrows suggestively a few times, and you can't help it but to laugh at her dorkiness and then to do exactly what she said.

Epilogue:

"Kara?" You hear Nia's voice next to the door, your eyes widen, and so does Kara's.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing in the closet?" You hold back the laugh from the double meaning, and Kara rolls her eyes at you.

"Changing back." She finally opens the door, leaving you hidden there.

"Because of Supergirl or because you've been making out with your girlfriend in there?" Nia knocks on the door. "Come out, Y/N. No one here wants you guys back in the closet. Also, the new boss is here. The making out in the closet era is over."

"But this was the first time." You defend yourself, slowly coming out of there.

"Oh please. It was the first time today. I might not have x-ray vision, but I have eyes, you know." Nia says and you and Kara share embarrassed smiles. "Now look alive, Andrea Rojas is here and something tells me she's not gonna give us special treatment like Lena did."

[jjtheresidentbaby]

Sorry to all caps at you but HARPER HBH PLEAS /gen /nf

Little Harper McLean headcanons

a/n: you didn’t specify if you wanted little or caregiver so hope you don’t mind me choosing for you

warnings: !!season 2 spoilers!!, talk of canon things (ie drug use, partying, etc), malakai never left <3

she doesn’t figure out she regresses til season 2 when she’s living with cash in her own space

it’s involuntary at first and she doesn’t even realize she’s regressed, just brushing it off as being extra tried or that the weed she smoked is making her act different

cash is actually the one that brings up that she might be regressing, he’s nervous telling her and gives her a whole list from his notes app on why he things it’s regression

she’s so taken back but sees every point that he makes

cue them going on a mini research binge together

she doesn’t talk about her regression with anyone at first, still trying to get used to it herself and whatnot

eventually quinni notices something’s off and asks her if she’s alright- the stumbling response of “oh yeah I’m fine” harper gives isn’t believable at all so they end up talking about it

quinni helps harper tell amerie as she was worried it’d mess things up between them

amerie of course takes it well but she’s also super confused so they spend awhile explaining things

harper’s headspace is definitely more in the smaller range, she likes teethers & pacifiers & soft toys she can cuddle into

her childhood was rough and her teenage years have been- worse. so stuffed animals and fleece blankets and nice pajamas are a big deal to her

she likes to regress at night for a bit before she goes to bed but might slip after school if something stressful happens

cash watches over her the most for obvious reasons, but also he’s comfortable with her and she’s comfortable with him so it works really nice

darren helps out a lot more when they settle back into living with cash & harper

cash & darren will do just about anything harper wants when she’s small (cash especially tho, he caves at the first glimpse of puppy dog eyes)

she’s got a box of monster high dolls from when she was a kid that she loves to play with

she drags amerie and malakai into playing dolls frequently as they make up the best storylines

she almost never regresses anywhere but at home but occasionally she’ll slip at amerie’s place or quinni’s since she’s comfortable there

amerie may or may not fall back into bodyguard mode™️ when she finds out harper regresses

thankfully malakai’s there to calm that down

nobody ever really sits malakai down and tells him that harper regresses or what regression is he just came over one day and there she was. little. and nobody else was batting an eye so he wasn’t either

months later at a party malakai brings this up to harper and firstly, she laughs, but secondly she gives him a link to a google doc quinni made explaining age regression but also listing specifics about harper’s regression and anyone else in the group that might be a little

malakai babysits a lot more after that

him & missy like to take harper on hikes when she’s feeling more like a kiddo

malakai usually carries one of the girls back down the hike on his back- it always switches back and forth between missy & harper

she has her whole friend group come over for big sleepovers when she’s regressed and absolutely loves it

she keeps a small plush in her backpack at all times and sometimes takes it out to use as a pillow if she’s putting her head down on a table/desk

holds hands with someone at all times if they’re out in public

going out when she’s regressed makes her really anxious so she avoids it if she can- everyone’s very understanding and will go grab something from the store for her or whatever she needs so she can stay home

[rhys-ravenfeather]

In Defense Of Kevin McCalister

WARNING: Super long, pointless rant/character analysis about a now 33-year-old movie coming up.

You have been warned.

Also, disclaimer: it has been years at this point since I've seen Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, and I'm like 99% sure that Home Alone 4 is set in the Bizarro Universe, given that all the original characters are played by new actors. So I won't be counting the events from either of those movies for this post, just the first movie. Also, for that reason I'm just going to keep referring to Marv and Harry as the 'Wet Bandits' throughout this whole post, instead of going back and forth between calling them that and the Sticky Bandits.

Anyway! It's December now, and I think at this point everyone and their dog theorizing about how Kevin is a psychopath, or sociopath, or grew up to be Jigsaw (no, really, for those who don't know that IS an actual theory) because of the torture he put the Wet Bandits through is almost as much a holiday tradition as actually watching the movie.

But I finally got to rewatch the movie recently, and I have a few thoughts.

I. The McCallisters

So um, I don't know about you guys, but from what we see of the entire extended McCallister family at the beginning of the movie, they kinda seem like a lowkey toxic bunch:

Okay, maybe 'toxic' is a bit much--to their credit, there are a lot of extra people in that house, they're about to go abroad for a trip, so it's not surprising that everyone would be stressed out and tensions are running high.

But that doesn't make their behavior right.

Early on, we see the family, kids included, pushing their stress and misery onto each other, and especially onto Kevin. Granted, Kevin himself is kind of a brat at the start of the movie, but guess what?

He's still an eight-year-old kid.

He's the youngest, at least in his immediate family, and the whole night he's either ignored by the adults, insulted by his siblings and cousins, no one bothers to help him pack, and he's told he'll have to bunk with his cousin, who is a bed-wetter. That's a LOT for a kid to deal with, and with everything piling up, can you really blame him for snapping over something as simple as a cheese pizza?!?!?

So to sum up: This eight-year-old boy spends the entire night getting dumped on and looked down on by all his older family members, and in the one moment he finally dares to retaliate, it results in a mess that gets all of them even angrier at him, and he's sent to his room angry and upset, and feeling like all of them hate him.

You're really going to tell me that none of you ever had an experience like this with your families as a kid????????

Can you really blame him for wishing his family away after a night like that?!?!?

Also just a quick side note: Someone else pointed out that, well, Kevin thought he made his family disappear. So it's not really surprising that the kid would probably think he's tough enough to take on two grown adults after that.

Now, that all being said, let's talk about:

II. The Wet Bandits

Look, I'm not going to act like I didn't wince watching some of the torture Marv and Harry went through, especially Marv stepping on nails and Christmas ornaments...talk about agony of the feet (don't boo me, that's the actual trope name!)

But there's one teeny, tiny little thing I think most people tend to overlook when talking about these guys, and the hell they went through...

MARV AND HARRY ARE CRIMINALS.

We literally start the movie with Harry pretending to be a cop to get information on the McCallister's home, and their security defenses, so that he can rob the place with Marv later.

And okay, to their credit, it's not like the pair start off trying to hurt Kevin right off the bat.

Doesn't change the fact that they were still planning to rob his home, and very likely WOULD hurt him if/when they found him in the house they were planning to rob.

And yeah yeah, the McCallisters seem to live in a rich neighborhood, and seem very well-off themselves, but you can't tell me that you would see THIS outside your house:

And NOT get scared, especially if you were a small child left at home with no family to help and protect you.

Kevin doesn't go full Jigsaw on them right away--in this scene, after tricking the pair into leaving by turning the lights on, he runs and hides under the bed, like the scared child that he is.

To address another post that I've seen once--'KeViN cOuLd HaVe CaLlEd ThE pOlIcE aNy TiMe!' No. He couldn't have. The phone lines were down.

Also, the police, for most of the movie, seem uncaring at best--when his mother calls the police to get them to check on her son, they all but roll their eyes when talking to this worried, scared mother who wants to make sure her son is safe, and while a police officer DOES come to check on the kid eventually, Kevin is still too scared from seeing the burglars to answer the door. Because, again, he is a confused, scared child.

And again, the very first 'police officer' we see in this movie is revealed to be one of the very criminals trying to rob his house.

And yet, when the kid accidentally steals a toothbrush (because he was scared of his neighbor, who was in the store with him), a cop goes after him.

Oh yeah, and it's not like Kevin goes full torture technician on the Wet Bandits the SECOND time they come around either--just uses a lot of dummies, cut-outs, and strings, as well as Christmas music, to make it seem like the house is full of people.

Then the Wet Bandits find out they've been had.

And it's then, and ONLY THEN, that Kevin turns his house into a Saw trap--remember, these grown men are dangerous criminals who fully intended to rob his place, and again, it's not a stretch of the imagination to think that, even though they didn't want to hurt him originally, they wouldn't have ANY PROBLEM WHATSOEVER doing so when they came to his house again after finding out that he tricked them.

TL;DR: KEVIN WAS A LITERAL CHILD WHO WAS LEFT TO FEND FOR HIMSELF AGAINST TWO BAD PEOPLE WHO WOULD HAVE HURT HIM, OR *WORSE* IF GIVEN THE CHANCE JUST TO GET WHAT THEY WANTED, AND WAS JUST TRYING TO PROTECT HIMSELF.

[firmaverage]

Wake up. Dread getting out of bed. Scroll through Instagram for 15 minutes. Finally get up, pee, put on some pants and head to the kitchen. Make breakfast. Make lunches for the kids. Bug them about getting ready. Take them to school.

Laundry.

Clean something.

Eat something.

Oh! The plumber is coming today, that's different.

Laundry.

Rinse and Repeat. Rinse and Repeat. For the rest of your life.

Or so it seems.

Having been a stay at home mom for the past 14 years, it feels like I have everything and nothing handled at any given time. My family desperately needs me for the smallest thing, then suddenly I don't exist. We laugh and have fun, I make brownies and they say they love me. Then I'm the worst mom ever, they hate me, they say I'm dumb.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Learning to let things go and not take anything personally has been a challenge, but a skill I've developed over the years. Learning to care for myself while I also care for everyone else... and the house.... and the dog.... and the yard.... and the fish....has been harder. Maybe I'll try hot yoga. I had a friend recommend it once and I've wondered about it ever since. That was 6 years ago.

I'm never really happy, never really sad. Never content and never strung out with stress. I just AM. I'm just there. Always there. Through holidays and birthdays. Good times and bad... lots of bad... I'm the Mom. I do it. And I cry by myself a lot.

I started writing this because I've never heard of a book, or even short story about a stay at home mom. She has no grand adventures, or epic romances. She doesn't have a secret identity or mysterious case she needs to solve. Scratch that, every thing that every person is looking for becomes mom's mystery to solve. I got really good at that.

Sometimes I dream about the past. Sometimes I worry about the future. Mostly I try to enjoy the present, appreciate what I have while I have it. Time moves too fast.

The number one thing I've learned about being a mom is that it's the best. And the worst. And the mediumist. But mostly Mom is loved and put aside. She is the back ground operating system that silently organizes life, making sure it runs smoothly.

The idea of stay at home mom has changed a lot. As a child I was taught that that was the ideal. So it was my goal to be a stay at home mom as long and I can remember. But times change. I've been pressured to "find a real job", that it's fulfilling to have something of my own. As if the 24/7 position I have is not my own. I've been pressured to get up before the kids and "take care of myself", because fitness only fits when no one else is around. (It is easier to be honest, but I am NOT a morning person.)  I've been told to clean more, eat better, meal prep, limit screens, encourage outside time, discourage swearing, keep up on homework, make sure the kids are in lots of activities but always have time for family. And be a sexy wife. When my body grew with babies, I was told to lose the weight as quickly as possible. I didn't. I was told to find my tribe, my village, and we would lighten each other's burden. I didn't. I was told to trust my gut instinct over what some "expert" says. I did.

Over and over and over I question, adjust, research, debate, and try to apply many different methods of taking care of my family. I put off my mental health issues until my husband wasn't sick anymore. I sought therapy for my son with anxiety. I walked and rocked my colic daughter from 5pm to 11pm every day for the first year of her life. I carry my families burdens and try to hide how much it is that I carry.

Being a stay at home mom is always. There is no clocking out. There are no vacation days. There is no banter around the water cooler. It's just me and my determination to do my best for my family. And it is never enough.

I don't say that in a negative, depressed way. It's just fact. I can never be all that my family needs, because I am just one person. I fill the gaps as much as possible, but things get through all the time. Like when I yelled at my 3 year old son to "Leave me the Fuck alone!" Like when my kids watched YouTube for 10 hrs one day (probably multiple days, I really haven't kept track.) Like when I had my first mental breakdown at 31 and cried all day. I highly recommend having a breakdown, it's very cathartic.

I've tried to make friends in every place I've moved to. It works for a while, but either I'm not good at making friends, or we just get really busy with our lives. Cuz I'm mostly alone. I volunteered to be PTA President. 1 month later the world shut down because of a pandemic. Being PTA President and a sudden homeschooling mom and dealing with a pandemic for 2 years broke me in new ways I still haven't recovered from.

My dog is obsessed with me. She small and fluffy so it's nice to have her on my lap sometimes.

The only time I really feel good is when I masterbate. And honestly I mostly do it so I can fall asleep faster. Does masterbation make everyone sleepy?

If you've read this far, many kudos to you. We are all so busy and have so many avenues of entertainment that an honest word vomit from me doesn't feel like the most popular thing.

I get crushes on men and imagine life with them, but I'm so ridiculously in love with my husband. The fantasies only last for a bit and then I look at his cute face during the ovulation era of my cycle and love him all over again. A week later I feel like strangling him and everyone else around me, but I've learned that's normal. And it passes.

Over the years I've had many jobs, mostly care giving. I've been deported (for not having the right visa... thanks a lot England.) I've had eating disorders. I've tried to dance again and mostly failed. Zumba was fun though. I was obsessed with ballet my entire childhood and tried to get my daughter into dance, but it wasn't for her. And that's ok. I was diagnosed with ADHD at 38 and finally put on medication that helped me focus. Is this how most people feel? You think about doing something and then just do it? Wild.

I grew up in a high demand religion, Mormon, and left that church. Left religion altogether. Became more lonely because my only social network was at church. Realized how much shame and guilt I carried. Realized that I don't know how to form healthy relationships, for the most part.

I stay up late and deprive myself of sleep just to finally have time to myself. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but I feel like I should be better. I don't know what my kids need, but I feel like I should. I don't want to get another job, but they are older and my husband works from home and we moved to a bigger house so I feel like I should. I "feel like I should" a lot.

I don't know where this is going, but maybe that's the point. Things just are, they don't have to go anywhere. Maybe I share this, maybe I don't. I know there are those who feel like me, but the internet is daunting. I don't like putting myself out there. Not anymore. I have given so much of myself over the years that I cling to whatever I can whenever I can. Cling to anything that feels like it's just mine. Like typing midnight rants on my phone. I was almost kidnapped as a kid. I was sexually and verbally abused. I was psychologically abused. I was molested. #MeToo

That is why I keep my kids close. I keep myself hidden. I plug away at daily life and don't try to expand. I can't let anyone in, it's better to be lonely. It's better to stay at home. Mom.

[astronomic727]

Apologies if I seemed off yesterday, but something happened on the 11th of June and I'm ready to get it out there now. Yesterday, before I got around to posting, my family had to put our cat, Skye, to eternal rest. To keep it brief, she essentially just got too old, and started getting ill over the past few months. We didn't want her suffering any longer, it would be just too unfair and selfish to put her through the stress of getting operations done and bringing her back and forth from the vet, just to keep her around longer for what felt like our sake. It's better off this way. We had plenty of time to say good bye and had expected this day was coming soon, but it hits hard.

I would just like to vent for a bit because this cat meant a lot to me. Our household had many pets growing up. We got Skye and her sister Smudge since they were born in 2008. Smudge tragically and unexpectedly passed one night when she was only 3. Child me was sad she was gone but I couldn't grasp the concept of grief. We also had a dog the same time who passed by the time I was in my first year of secondary school. This hurt more on a deeper level since I was starting to mature. These 3 were the pets I grew up with and remember the most, as my parents had a cat and dog before I was born too, but I was only a toddler by the time they were gone.

This cat however lived for almost 17 years. She has been with me through primary school, secondary school, college, and everything in between. She's been there for every hardship I've faced, and has been around for so long that even my earliest memories contain her in some way. That's what makes this hurt so much more than anything I've ever had to experience in my life. The last little bundle of fluff from my childhood. Gone. But I have to remind myself that I can't be too bitter over it all, and that things could've gone much worse.

As I said, she's been around a long time. We've had many good memories with her. She was quite the character. She hated being picked up and was feisty. But if you sat down near her she would cuddle up with you pretty much instantly. She became even more affectionate as time went on. We gave her the best life that we could've, right up until the very end, and we prevented her from suffering any further. We were all with her as she went to sleep forever. She's with her sister now after all this time, I know it.

We're not quite petless anymore, I will say. We have a dog that we got back in 2018 and she's 7 now. So I'm glad to say we at least still have her and she'll be around for another good while. I was planning a drawing one time of her and Skye, and had the rough sketch for Skye done, but it fell on the back burner as other things took over. I felt like this was the perfect time to finish at least her bit off and post it. I really don't know if I should've rambled about all of this but I just can't keep it in man. I needed to get all of this out there. It's rough, but I will pull through. It's life. This is what happens. And I'm thinking maybe anyone else going through this situation, or will soon be going through this situation can sympathise a bit knowing they're not alone.

It's been hard to talk about, but don't worry, I do have the support around me to get through this. The only thing I ask of you all is, please go hug your pets. Appreciate the time you have with them, and let them know it. They aren't just animals, they're family. I'll be back with some more light hearted stuff soon enough. Thank you for your time, and rest in piece Skye.

[lothlorienlover]

PSA: We adopted our dog, Rowdy, from the shelter 5 years ago. He was already an adult dog, so we estimate he is about 11 or 12 years old at this point. I love this dog. He is the sweetest soul and my BFF. For the past week or so he hasn’t been acting like himself. He licked a raw spot on his foot. He was panting constantly. He was pacing. Sunday morning, the pacing and panting got so bad, and I was REALLY nervous that there was something seriously wrong with him. For 45 minutes, he panted like crazy and constantly paced back and forth. He was keeping his tail tucked down all the time. His ears were pinned back. He would not settle down and he wouldn’t eat. We tried everything. I ended up giving him a trazadone that he takes sometimes when he goes to the groomer. It seemed to take a little bit of the edge off, but not much. He still wouldn’t eat and still wouldn’t settle. I took off work on Monday so I could take him to the vet. We did bloodwork and x-rays. Knowing he is a senior dog, I was trying to prepare myself for the worst case scenario. I was glad to see his bloodwork was great except for some elevated liver enzymes. The x-rays showed he was a little backed up but no major issues. He got an anti-nausea injection and some Gabapentin to help with some tenderness in his back and to hopefully help keep him calm. When we got home, he was ok for a little bit, but eventually started pacing and panting again. We walked around the neighborhood for a long time and he used the bathroom a lot. He seemed pretty happy about that and was in good spirits until we got home and he refused to come back in the house. Every time I took him out that evening, he would hunker down like he didn’t want to come back in the house. When my vet called and I gave her the update, she suggested there may be some new electronic device in the house that was emitting a high frequency noise that is hurting his ears. We had just put new smart plugs in the house about a week ago. His pacing and panting were worse when the lamps were on, so I unplugged all the smart outlets. He stopped panting, stopped pacing, and ate his food. His tail was even up and wagging again. When I plugged the smart plugs all back in and asked Alexa to turn on the lamps, he immediately started panting and pacing again. My husband used an app to test the frequency of the smart plugs. It was off the charts. We've left the outlets unplugged for two days and have confirmed that it is definitely the smart outlets that are causing his stress and discomfort. He's back to being a totally normal dog now. I really thought this was the end for Rowdy based on the way he was acting. I am so thankful for Dr. Newell at BoonesCreek AnimalHospital for figuring out this simple solution. If your pets are exhibiting similar symptoms, you may want to consider checking your electronics first. I cannot express how relieved I am that he is ok now.

[vannahmontannah]

"ROOF! ROOF!"

"Ugh! Milo! Shut up! Fuck is you even barking for, bruh?"

Yeah, yeah...another day. Ugh! He probably barking because he needs to go out to the relief area. Sometimes I wish he could do it himself and come back.

I get up outta bed—ya already know how that junk go. No need to explain even further than that.

Anyway, it's a big day at the dealership. We get a handful of new cars in today and me being the BEST salesman there is, you know how I handle things. I don't just wear no suit to work. I got it like that to wear I can wear a certain outfit and still look presentable, you know what I'm sayin'? But I do wear my identification.

I hop in the shower, eat a lil bit of food, feed my dog, and get ready for the day. I checked my notifications to see if my boys got some going on and then I dip out. Every time I go outside, I get stopped for some compliments here and there and I truly appreciate it. I love all the love I receive. But do I got a girl? Why you in my business?

**Bzz! Bzz!

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Good morning,"

"Wassup?"

"Do you think you can send me $300?"

"For what?!"

"Well, I need it to go shopping,"

"Naomi, why don't you get a job, girl?"

"You know I'm trying! But, really wanna go out this weekend. You know I never beg,"

"Never? I wanna see what your 'barely' looks like,"

"Please, Duke? I promise I'm looking,"

"Just request it and I'll accept it. You know I can help you find some,"

"I'm good. I believe my friend is helping me out with streaming,"

"It's gone take time and dedication,"

"I'm fully aware,"

"But I'm on my way to work. I'll send it when I get there,"

"Thank you. Have a good day!"

"You too,"

~~~~~~~~~~~

I arrive at the gig and there was like 27 new cars on the lot! I can spot them that easily. It was some more still coming in. We get some used cars a lot too, but it kind of takes away from the new cars we have and receive. I parked my car and hopped out. Everyone at my job is cool for the most part and I have no issues with them. At least I don't think so. If it ain't addressed, keep it on the playground. Simple.

"If it ain't the fashion God himself!" My manager greeted.

"Sup, Michael,"

"Hey! We gone have a busy day today. Be prepared for this one. 6 new SRT's, 7 Mustangs, 5 Mercedes Benz, 10 Kia's and a few others. Shop opens in an hour and I have to get all of this shit filed. Fuck!"

"You need some help?"

"Nah, I got it. Hey, I was looking through the appointment list and saw a well-known name pop up. Got any idea who Justin Barker is?"

"I think he's another streamer if I'm not mistaken. He also does music on the side, but I'm not too big on him. He coming in?"

"I guess so. I see him right here. Purchasing a brand new 2024 Kia EV9,"

"Whew! Hella money dropped on a car,"

"Yeah, but if you can keep up with the payments, you good. You go and get settled and imma finish getting things in order,"

"Bet,"

~~~~~~~~~~

It's another loud morning at Justin's house per usual. Sometimes he's up and working on some music, but he tends to forget there's other people in the house. He's drumming, playing the guitar, cursing because he can't get a certain tune right, and so forth. Zuri, his girlfriend, is irritated by the constant disruption and urges he takes a break!

"Goddamit! Fuck, man! I can't get this right!" Justin curses.

"Justin! Oh my gosh, babe! Calm down!"

"I'm sorry, I just...I just get so stressed, like, I know I can do better than this!"

"I believe in you, Justin, but we have to think about other people in the house when it comes to noise. I don't mind you playing the guitar, but the theatrics has to stop. Please!"

"I'll work on it,"

"And you better stick to it. What you working on anyway?"

"A new song I've been meaning to put out for some time now and I just get so stuck on the damn chorus and even some times the bridges. I feel lost..."

"Since when has my baby ever been lost?"

"This song is just...personal,"

"Well, you have to take your time and let the art come to you,"

"Tried that,"

"Maybe that's a sign for you to take a break then,"

"I can't do that!"

"Yes you can. Your audience will understand,"

"This is how I make my living! I'm at this every other if not every day,"

"Justin, if this means a lot to you then you have to feel your work. Take time off for you! And besides, don't you have a car to get today? Focus on that instead,"

"Yeah, you're right. Almost forgot about that fucking car. Let's not waste money and hurry and get it!"

"There's the happy and energetic Justin I know! Let's go get our new whip,"

"Our?"

"Well, yours...yours works too,"

"You have a car,"

"Okay, well damn! I can't be supportive?"

"You can. Let's just forget it and just get the car,"

"Whatever you say,"

~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is a 2020 Kia Sol—" I said.

"Ain't these the cars that be getting jacked a lot?" The customer said.

"They may be getting jacked, but they can get jacked with this heat pack, for sure!" The co-signer added.

"I don't know, son. These are high risk cars,"

"Anything is good for right now dad. I got this. Plus this is the newer model. Im good,"

"You sure you want this?"

"Yes,"

"Okay, man, we'll take it," the dad said.

"Alright, just step back inside and we can get you started from there," I said, leading back indoors.

"Dennis! Just the guy I was trying to see," Micheal said.

"Wassup?"

"Just got off the phone with Justin and he said he's pulling up. He's changing his mind about the EV9 and wants to look around to see if there's any other options. You think you can take him for me? I got a bigger situation right now,"

"I would, but I'm doing someone right now,"

"I'll have Garrett take over for you. I'll even add this to your check,"

"Fine with me. That's the car they getting right there,"

"Gotcha. Thanks again,"

"You good,"

I've watched a few of Justin's videos before. Guy has some talent, but he can do too much at times. He can even come off as arrogant and obnoxious. Heard he had a girl, but I rarely lay any attention to that. But if he does, how on Earth does she deal with him?

I got a text from sis and she sent me pictures of her shopping with my money. I don't appreciate this. She betta get a job before I sue for all money sent. Reporting to the FBI for scamming and trafficking if she ask for one more thing. Watch!

Some time goes by and I see a black Porsche drive into the lot. Windows are tinted, so I can't really see inside. He parked right in front of the glass doors too. Who does this guy really think he is?

He comes out the car and walks straight inside. But, there's another person in the car. The door opens and a woman comes out, shaking her head. He had a whole woman in the car and didn't open the door? WHAT?! They both come in and start looking around. Boy am I gonna have a field day.

"Hello! Welcome to the dealership! My name is Dennis and you must be Justin,"

"Yes, sir. Nice to meet you,"

"Vis versa. Heard you're looking for a new car?"

"Yeah, man. I just wanna see my options. I'm looking for something...exotic, but smooth. Something that's made for cruising, but still luxurious. You know?"

"I got just what you need. Follow me this way. Good morning, ma'am,"

"Good morning!" She smiled.

I smiled back. It was a reflex guys! Anyways, let's see what this dude want and hurry up and get him out the way. I take them to the side where most of the expensive cars are, but he can get a really good price on them if his credit is right.

"Ight! So out here are the 2023 Challenger SRT's. They run from around $55,000 to $87,000. The newer model Ranges are over here and they start at $100,000. Over here are the 2023 Phantom Rolls Royce's and these start at $500,000. SRT's are pretty loud, but the ladies love 'em. Range Rovers are pretty chill and comfortable, bringing that nice cool vibe. Royce's give you that luxury experience and have you feeling and looking good,"

"What about that Aston Martin over there?" Justin pointed.

"Oh, these! These are one of our best sellers as well. Starting off at $185,000 with a down payment of $4,000 a month if you don't wanna pay in full. This one has 542 to 697 horsepower, 9-speed automatic, all-wheel drive, and a 3 year warranty. The interior has black and blue leather seats, 7 over head lights, Bluetooth speakers, and it seats 5 people in total,"

"Hmm...I think I kinda like this one. You said up to 697 horsepower?"

"Yup,"

"Mmm...what you think, babe?"

"I love it! You seem to be interested in this one the most," she smiled.

"Yeah. I think imma go with this one,"

"Alright. Step on inside and we can get you started,"

"You need my ID and stuff?"

"Yeah,"

"Uh, Michael said I can just come and take it. Drive it off the lot,"

"Hold on. Let me check,"

I took out my phone to call Michael because what the hell is going on here. He ain't even pay yet!

"Yeah?" Michael answered.

"Hey, I got Justin here. He said that you said he can take the car and go?"

"No, he needs to get his background first, pay and then leave,"

"He said you need to pay and then leave," I said.

"Do ya not know who I am?"

Oh he one of those. I should have known.

"Regardless of that, you still have to follow the same procedures as everybody else, man,"

"Justin, just do what the man says, please?" Zuri asked, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just saying. I have a status. You know this, Zuri,"

"Justin, not today,"

After some time past, I was finally able to get this mother fucker off my hands. One of those privileged white kids I see. I can't believe she puts up with that. Another self-centered human being.

[artificeblade]

Tell me about 5, 25, and 27 from those weird writer questions!

AH! Hello! Hi! Howdy!~ My good friend, Gitte. :D This is going to be long read so read at your own leisure.~ For anyone that wants to try their hand at it, here is a link to the post!

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true? Now, I don't know if it's really called a superstition but it's something that happens every. single. time. and you know it too. Chapter 3, there is something about trying to complete that third chapter that is the be-all-end-all of my stories. If I can't get my shit together I nearly give up. I have to take a year or more hiatus on the thing. I work on other stories that end up stopping on that fucking chapter. I can work on other chapters before or after it but god damn CHAPTER THREE. It's my bane of existence. I don't know if it's because it's the critical step after building up everything from the prologue, chapter one and chapter two, that if I can't properly make the characters move from this chapter I'm doomed.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story? Oh my dear friend, you have NO IDEA how any useless details I have about my characters. It's like 80% of my day dreams is thinking of all the little things my characters do and it helps me create more realistic personalities this way. ANYWAYS! Here are a few because I just love all my children characters so much. - Mori likes to connect the dot's on Nobu's freckles, creating little constellations on his skin. He does it with washable marker so it doesn't stay for long but when he is really bored he'll start doing it without thinking about it. Nobu doesn't mind it too much as long as he isn't working on anything. Mori's favorite constellations are a little heart and lopsided dog. -Rota sticks out her tongue when she is very concentrated. She doesn't know where she picked up the habit but if she is focused hard enough she has a little "cat blep". It's not often people catch her doing it but most find it endearing such a serious girl can look so childlike.

-Alyss/Frisk is always moving some part of their hand or feet. They picked up tapping their feet from Cinnamon, making them look like a rabbit as well. Mostly can be caught shaking a pen back and forth between their fingers, even twirling it if they get really lost in thought. If they are idle for too long while standing they start to shift in place. Think early 90's to 00's Sonic animations but not as sassy, haha.

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

I think, at this point, it has to be Sans. Sans fucking Undertale. I can do light-hearted, wholesome characters. I can do wacky silly characters. I can do super serious and stoic characters. I can do cocky rival/friend characters. And I can do your run-of-the-mill good or bad guy. But give me a character like Sans Undertale and I'm nearly at a lost. I can't do witty. I can't do clever funny. I can't do the thinly-veiled threats like he does and keep it to where only the person he is talking to understands what's going on. It comes off as too try-hard and cringe-y to me. When I try to write Sans upset and mad it's very expressive when in fact I know he'll be damn put together and still making those stupid puns. I'm to honest with how I write my characters when Sans is in fact someone that keeps a whole lot to himself. He has to be near the breaking point to even crack his façade. Anyways, Sans is hard to write as much as I enjoy his character trope so much.