#anyway heres a doodle of him when he was younger Before The Horrors

[neuroticreno]

do you personally think Myron was always Like That, or was it the adults around him enabling his awful behavior? also i really wanna know what happened to his parents but it's never really brought up

To be honest, I feel like Myron's always had some behavioral issues from being naturally intelligent at such a young age; intensely driven, a sense of superiority to others.

It's just his already self-inflated ego was blown to EPIC proportions when he got involved with the Mordino family. The point of no return...

As for his parents, I imagine they were likely doctors or scientists themselves, atleast one of them being so. Likely ranking high in authority, too; it'd play into the whole idea that he's always lived a comfortable life, so to speak. Something to explore!

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[violetscanfly]

Here's part two of the mermaid au doodles!

The drama has arrived

More ramblings about what's happening under the cut!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

They're at some sort of a social event of the clans that takes place on a ship, definitely not lwj's wedding though since he wasn't engaged to mm in the first place (much to lqr's irritation.)

Jgy has been getting close to lxc in hopes of potentially advancing his status through marrying into the Lan clan because his future at Jin clan is seeming pretty dim at the moment. Whether he has actual feelings for lxc is up to you. There's only one problem, that being lwj who seems to know he's up to something and needs to be dealt with. Though the younger of the twin jades isn't known for either drinking or partying hard, quite the opposite, him drinking alcohol by mistake and stumbling over the edge is believable enough. The Lans aren't known for their high tolerance after all.

What jgy hasn't accounted for is that now there's someone practically glued to lwj's side. He waits for the right moment that just doesn't come, so he just decides to go for it. He can be subtle, distracting them with small talk (that is frustratingly hard when lwj only gives one word answers and his friend only communicates with sign language he doesn't understand,) but wwx ends up catching him slip the drug into lwj's drink anyway. He sees red and in a fit of protective rage he attacks jgy, slipping back into his original form.

The humans are horrified and nmj hauls wwx off jgy. (Ironic I know, but he hates the "seamonsters" more than he hates jgy.) Wwx slams into the railing of the deck and curls up in pain before lwj rushes to him. Wwx had not revealed his true form to lwj in fear of him seeing him as a "monster" and loosing him. As they stare at each other in other in horror (wwx bc his secret is out and Lan Zhan must hate him now and lwj because he is reeling from how is he going to protect Wei Ying in a situation like this) lxc comes to try and pull him back from the dangerous creature that's been hiding under their noses for weeks.

This is as far as I've drawn so far but there'll probably be more to come later!

[obsessivelyloved]

Jhsbh

I

can we have some halloween hcs if possible

like what the reader and each of the the boys do on halloween

cause

cause spooky scary month

Here you go! Thanks for the request <3

Quick question! Should I start doing that thing where I color in characters' names or sentences with their respective color? I've seen people do it but sometimes it fucks with the rest of the text color and makes things hard to read on dark mode fndsjkfshkfsh

_______________________________________________

Edd:

- Doesn’t normally do much on Halloween. With Reader, he’ll eat candy with them and cuddle up as they watch scary movies.

- Takes turns with them on getting up to answer the door and pass out candy. Edd will compliment some kids if he thinks their costumes are cool and will describe them to Reader if they weren’t with him at the door.

- Does Halloween themed doodles for Reader, along with a few digital art pieces meant to be their phone background or computer background.

- Jokingly promises that he’ll protect them from any spooky creature in the night before snuggling up with Reader and going to bed.

Tom:

- Doesn’t really celebrate halloween. Tom never has and will only do things if Reader wants to.

- He likes to cuddle up with them on the couch and tease them if they get scared of whatever movie they’re watching.

- Lets Reader pass out candy to kids. Listens as Reader describes cool or cute costumes.

- Absolutely makes sure to turn the porch light off before they go to bed so he doesn’t have to keep hearing the doorbell ring. Even if they still have candy.

Matt:

- Stays up late with Reader watching scary movies and eating candy.

- He doesn’t care to pass out candy to kids but doesn’t mind if Reader wants to. He’ll whine a little and tell them to hurry back before their seat and half of the blanket gets cold.

- Matt and Reader both hold onto each other when they get scared by a scene in a movie. Though they’re already snuggling each other anyway, but they smush themselves together when afraid.

Tord:

- Loves watching scary movies with Reader, especially the gorey ones. If Reader can’t stomach some of the movies or he notices they’re clinging on a little too tight during them, he’ll switch the movies onto something Reader likes. Whether that be a simple cheesy horror movie, something cute, or things like Coraline and The Addams Family.

- Built so many scary decorations that do shit like MOVE that the house is regarded as “too scary” by kids. Mostly older kids show up at the door for candy.

- Both Tord and Reader find it funny how half the older kids either have a scared shitless little kid gripped in their hand or are obviously also up there to get candy for a younger sibling.

- That was part of the plan of building those things so that the door isn’t constantly ringing. Reader still gets to pass out candy to the few brave children and Tord doesn’t constantly have to hear the doorbell ring or get irritated that Reader leaves his side.

[odos-bucket]

In Which Each of Bruce’s Kids Come Out to Him

and then he comes out to them

Dick

They’re working on opposite sides of the coffee table in one of the manor’s more habitable sitting room’s. It’s become a regular part of their weekday routine: Bruce finishes up whatever office work he has to do, while Dick does his homework, and talks about his day. Usually there are snacks involved. A parenting book Bruce had read recommended trying to get their work done together. It’s a good way to keep connected with their increasingly busy schedules.

“So anyways…” Dick’s story is starting to slow down a little bit, and the shift in tone has Bruce glancing up from his paperwork. “I should probably tell you, since, well, everyone knows at school now.” His voice is still conversational, and relaxed, but a little distracted.

Bruce shifts him his full attention.

“See, what happened was Cameron Josephs in my third period biology class came to school with nail polish on today, which I noticed with my clever detective skills, and promptly dismissed as unimportant, and everyone else noticed with their nosy pre-teen skills, and promptly lost their shi- I mean, minds over. And that was Mrs. Horton’s class, and she has absolutely no control over her students, so it sort of became this whole big thing. Kids were making fun of him, and other kids were yelling at them to knock it off, and he was just trying to do his work, but the rest of the class got into a big fight. And then Brad Cormick- he’s on my basketball team- made a homophobic joke, and we were sitting at the same table, and I could tell that he wanted me to laugh at it. So I told him to shut up, and said that I was bisexual, not that any of it really had anything to do with anything else that was going on, but it did get him to shut up, which was good. Except that I think it may have been because I have more friends than Cameron does, which is totally unfair, and everyone should just be nice to everyone else no matter what, but also I guess not really the point… The point is, yeah, I’m bi. Oh, also frog dissection got moved to tomorrow because one kid threw up.”

Dick takes a deep breath (finally) and a long sip of his juice, before immediately returning to doodling athletic stick figures in the margins of his algebra homework.

Bruce studies him for a moment, trying to figure out what kind of response is expected of him, what would be helpful for Dick to hear. He’s really not very good at this kind of thing.

He’s saved from the risk of putting his foot in his mouth when the science class story continues.

“Are frogs really that gross? I don’t think they are. But I guess our basement is filled with guano, so maybe my tolerance is heightened by regular exposure to the substance most frequently equated with insanity.”

Dick hadn’t seemed nervous before coming out, or relieved after. And if he’s not going to make it into a big deal then neither is Bruce, even if a part of him feels pleasantly warmed by the casual show of trust.

Jason

Bruce loves picking up his kids from school. It’s not something that his schedule allows him to do very often, and Jason- as Dick had been before him- always seems pleasantly surprised to see him. It’s a little thing in the grand scheme, but it’s just nice, normal. And he would never say it out loud- he’s not sure why, he knows he should- but he cherishes the little bit of extra time spent with his boys.

But today Jason isn’t happy to see him.

Bruce pulls up to the curb, and only has to scan the crowd of teenagers for a few seconds before spotting him. He’s on a bench with another student, their shoulders pressed together despite wide swaths of free space available on either side of them. Jason’s pointing out something in a textbook, while the other boy plays with his free hand.

Bruce pulls slightly to the side to let another car drive around him, figuring he’ll give Jason a few minutes to finish up, and notice that Bruce is there, rather than call out and risk embarrassing him.

It’s not even a full minute before they make eye contact across the lot, and immediately something in Jason’s expression changes. His eyes go wide and startled, his posture suddenly tightened. In one fast motion he shuts his book with both hands, muttering something to his friend as he practically throws himself off the bench.

Now feeling on high alert, Bruce sweeps an intense gaze over the school yard for anything that could have upset his son. He doesn’t manage to spot anything before Jason arrives at the car and pulls himself into the backseat (where he never sits, unless the front is already occupied). He starts talking before Bruce can ask what’s wrong.

“That wasn’t what it looked like!”

Bruce frowns, and looks over both Jason and the area in front of the school in an attempt to identify something that isn’t like how it looks.

“He just-“ Jason flinches, seemingly realizing something wrong with whatever he’d been about to say, and cuts himself off with a sharp breath. “I mean-“

Feeling lost is by no means a new part of parenthood for Bruce, and he’s sure it’s something he’ll experience many more times going forward. But, god, he really hates not understanding what’s going on, not knowing what to do, and he doubts that he’ll ever get used to it.

“Jason,” he tries. “Slow down.”

“Yes, sir,” Jason answers automatically. “Sorry.”

It’s been over a year since Jason’s called him ‘sir’ and the sudden reintroduction of the honorific sends a cold chill down Bruce’s spine. For a second they just stare at each other, with what Bruce is pretty sure are matching expressions of partially concealed horror.

“Jason,” he says more quietly.

“I know,” Jason interrupts. “I’m sorry. Please-“ He stops himself, covering his mouth before he can finish the thought, and then just as quickly lowering the hand back to his lap.

Another silence follows, short but harrowing. Then finally Bruce makes a rare admission

“I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

Jason stares at him, and the wider his eyes get the younger he looks, and the more Bruce wants to scoop him up into his arms. But he just waits, and tries not to look too expectant.

“I-I was holding hands with Derek,” Jason breaths out.

“…Alright?” He’s heard that name before. Jason doesn’t have as many friends at school as Dick had, so they’re a little easier to keep track of, even if Bruce has only ever met any of them in passing. “Is this someone you’re worried I’ll embarrass you in front of?” He asks after a brief pause.

Jason keeps staring at him, expression crinkling as his breathing grows erratic.

Bruce finds himself automatically exaggerating his own inhales and exhales, resting the side of one hand against his sternum, to remind Jason of some of their breathing exercises.

“That’s it, chum,” he says as he sees it slowly begin to work. “Everything’s okay.” For all he knows- or doesn’t know- right now it might not even be true, but dammit for his kid he will make everything okay.

“Everything’s okay,” Jason obediently echoes.

Bruce takes his hand off his chest, and starts to reach towards him. But Jason flinches away from him, not as violently as he had back when they were still new to each others’ lives, but it’s enough to make Bruce feel sick. He can practically feel the wrongness of it squeezing his heart into shards as he slowly withdraws his arm back into the front seat. He had truly thought that they had gotten past this.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” he says softly, a small concession to the part of himself that wants to beg his son’s forgiveness for whatever he’s done to make him afraid. “I’m so sorry.”

Jason’s not looking at him anymore. His head is down, and his gaze is fixed on his knees.

Bruce hesitates.

“I’ll never hurt you.” It’s a reassurance he had thought they were past the point of needing, but if they aren’t he’ll say it as many times as he has to. “Never.”

“Are you mad?”

“Is there something particular that I’m supposed to be mad about?” Bruce asks carefully.

“... That I was holding hands with a guy,” Jason elaborates, after a steadying breath.

Oh, Bruce is an idiot. What kind of detective is he if he can’t even- He cuts himself off, realizing he can’t wait too long to respond to that.

“Of course not. That’s what this is about?”

“I never meant for you to find out,” is the response he gets. And doesn’t that just hurt like hell to hear?

“That you like boys?” Bruce confirms.

“And girls, both. But I didn’t know what you’d think, so I figured if I couldn’t be sure it was better to keep it to myself.”

Bruce closes his eyes, taking a second to calm his own breathing.

“I never want you to feel like that,” he says. “About anything. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear. I love you, Jaylad, that isn’t contingent on anything.”

I wish I could have protected you from whatever it was that made you feel like this was something you had to hide. He doesn’t say it.

Jason is finally looking at him again, gaze thoughtful and careful. A long moment passes, before he surprises- and momentarily terrifies- Bruce by getting out of the car. But before he can react to that, Jason’s climbing into the passenger seat, and after a second of hesitation, leaning into Bruce’s side.

“Okay,” he says quietly, sounding a little choked up.

Bruce puts an arm around his shoulders. The closeness is a balm after the pain of having his son flinch away from him.

Tim

Tim isn’t supposed to come over today. His parents are in town, and Bruce had made a point of hiding his reluctance when he’d given Robin the week off, chastising himself for the empty nest syndrome he has no right to be experiencing- at least in regards to this particular child.

So he’s surprised when he hears Alfred’s throat clear, and looks up to see both Alfred and Tim lingering in the doorway to his office. It would be odd to see him here at this time of day even if they had been planning to go on patrol; sunset is still a few hours off.

Bruce immediately has a bad feeling. He knows it’s commonplace for the Drakes to disappear unexpectedly partway through whatever length of time they were meant to be spending at home. As Batman it’s made his life easier numerous times. As a parent it’s beyond his comprehension. If he still had his boys at home- but he can’t think about that, not without breaking down, and if Tim’s just been abandoned that’s the last thing he needs.

As he approaches the door, Alfred’s pointed look, and Tim’s vacant expression confirm that he’s right to be concerned.

“Tim.” He keeps his voice neutral. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

He picks up on Alfred’s glare a fraction of a second too late to realize that he’s said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry.” There’s something miserable in Tim’s voice, that makes Bruce want to bundle him up in a blanket. Before he can assure him that he has nothing to apologize for, Alfred cuts in.

“I told Master Tim that he’s welcome to stay with us for as long as he needs.”

Bruce nods automatically, looking down at Tim, who’s glassy expression looks a million miles away.

“Tim,” he says gently, eventually drawing the boy’s gaze, but feeling disconcerted by how delayed the response is.

Alfred leaves with a comment about putting a kettle on for tea, closing the door firmly but softly behind him. The sound it makes as it pulls all the way shut still makes Tim twitch.

“Do you want to sit down?” Bruce offers.

Tim stumbles a bit on his way to the couch. He’s so out of it; He won’t be patrolling tonight, even if his schedule’s suddenly open for it. Bruce sits down on the other side.

“Are they gone again?” He asks, trusting fully that the vaguely worded question will be completely understood.

There’s a worrying delay before Tim shakes his head, giving Bruce ample time to wish for Alfred back before he can register the response enough to be surprised by it.

“So...“ he begins uncertainly, before being cut off.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says again. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”

“You aren’t a bother, Tim.”

The- admittedly somewhat monotone- assurance just gets him a shrug.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He tries.

“Do I have to?” Tim asks after a long silence. “Can’t I just stay here?”

Bruce frowns.

“Of course you can stay here. But I think I really need to know what’s going on.”

Tim stares at him, eyes shining, mouth opening and closing several times before he speaks.

“Can I- Alfred says I can tell you something, and you won’t get mad?”

“Well, that depends on what it is,” Bruce says, thinking back on every time a robin has had something to tell him, but first wanted confirmation that he wouldn’t be angry.

Tim seems to shrink at his words, his breath catching audibly as he curls in on himself. Fuck, Bruce is bad at this.

“What do you have to tell me?” He asks.

“Well now I don’t know if I want to!” It almost comes out as a yell, strained by the sound of held back tears, and Bruce is a little taken aback.

“I’ll probably find out at some point,” he reasons.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Tim chokes on something that sounds like a suppressed sob.

No, no, no no. This isn’t supposed to happen. Bruce reaches out for him in an awkward and hastily aborted movement.

“I can’t,” Tim says after a minutes, tears streaking over his pale cheeks. “If you don’t-“ His voice catches. “I need you to let me stay here.”

Bruce’s heart hurts as he scooches a little closer, reaching out to rest a hand- hopefully not too awkwardly- on Tim’s shoulder.

“Of course you can stay here,” he reiterates. “I told you you could stay here. Even if I’m mad at you you can stay here. If you-“ He searches for a moment. “-Took the batmobile out on a joyride, and drove it into the harbor, I’ll be mad at you, but you’ll still have a place here. One will never have anything to do with the other.”

Tim makes a noise that’s over too quickly for Bruce to be able to tell if it had been a laugh, or just more crying.

“Did Jason do that?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Dick,” Bruce corrects.

This time Tim definitely snorts, which has Bruce smiling in spite of himself.

“Did you do something worse than that?” He asks.

It’s meant to be a joke, but Tim makes an unhappy face at the question.

“I- no!” He says, defensive, but confident. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Bruce gives his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it.

“Then why would I be mad at you?”

The humor that had begun to make its way into Tim’s expression disappears again, and Bruce curses himself.

“Mom and Dad were mad,” he says quietly.

Bruce scowls. He tries pretty hard not to let his dislike of Jack and Janet show around Tim- though he’s long suspected the young detective can tell- but it’s harder to hide sometimes than others.

“You said they were still home,” he remembers. “Tim, did they kick you out?” He does his best to keep the anger out of his voice.

And then he finds himself doing his best to keep the anger off of his face when it takes Tim a moment to answer the question.

“I don’t think forever,” he says uncertainly. “Just- They said they needed time to think about it, to d-decide what to do.”

The slight stutter puts him over the age, and fury starts to trickle into Bruce’s voice.

“To think about what?” He demands. Hell, that place is more Tim’s home than it is theirs. They have absolutely no right to ask him to leave! And where the hell do they expect him to go? Bruce forces himself to clench his jaw, and take deep breaths.

“...I’m gay,” Tim finally says.

Bruce stares at him for the second that it takes for the words to register, and connect back to the rest of the conversation.

“That’s it?”

He’s wincing at himself before the question is all the way out of his mouth, immediately convinced that he’s said the wrong thing again. But then, to his immense relief, he realizes that Tim has started laughing. It isn’t deep, or sustained. His voice is still a little weak, and his eyes are still a little red. But he’s definitely laughing, and Bruce realizes vaguely that a robin laughing is still his favorite sound in the world.

“That’s it,” Tim confirms, on the tail end of his laugh.

“Oh, Tim.”

Bruce doesn’t give himself a chance to second guess the motion before he pulls the boy into a hug, satisfied that it was the right course of action when he feels Tim melt against him.

“Of course I’m not mad, of course I’m not mad,” he repeats like a mantra. “I’m sorry I let you think I would be. You’re right, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

A few seconds pass, and he realizes there’s a wet patch at his shoulder where Tim’s face is buried. Bruce freezes, totally unsure of what he’s done wrong this time.

“I’m sorry,” Tim breaths out. “I- thank you. Thank you! I don’t know what I would have done if- I- I don’t want to be alone!”

“Not alone,” Bruce promises. “You’re not alone. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Tim presses closer, and Bruce takes it as a cue to tighten his hold.

Alfred finds them like that a few minutes later, Tim curled up in his arms, while Bruce cycles through reassurances. The look they exchange is enough to confirm that they’re both thinking the same thing: this kid is ours.

Cass

One day Cass hangs a little pride flag up on her door. Later in the week when she catches Bruce glancing at it, she comes up to him, gives the flag a meaningful nod, before just saying, “Girls!” in a happy voice, giving him a hug, and disappearing down the hall.

Damian

Bruce can identify every member of his family by their knock, but Damian’s is particularly distinctive. Not just because it tends to come from a lower part of the door, but because Damian has cultivated a strong knock, the way businessmen cultivate a strong handshake. It’s a very confident and determined sound, that he often finds himself stifling a smile at, knowing that that isn’t at all the intended reaction.

“Come in,” he calls, and there’s no pause before Damian strides into his office, confident as ever. When he speaks however, the undercurrents of his voice tell a different story.

“Father, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” There are a few hesitations, that don’t quite manage to turn into stutters in his voice, ones it’s unlikely anyone outside of their family would notice.

Bruce doesn’t comment on them, just nods for Damian to sit down and continue.

His legs don’t fully reach the floor. Something else that Bruce has learned not to let himself smile at.

“Grayson says…” he begins confidently, before trailing off.

Bruce just raises an eyebrow for him to continue, not feeling like he has enough information to put anything together from at the moment.

“Richard says,” Damian continues more carefully. “He came out to you as bisexual when he was around my age?”

Bruce nods. He has a feeling that he knows where this is going this time.

“He did.”

“He said that you were okay with it?”

Bruce nods again.

“Dick is my son. My love for him isn’t conditional, certainly not on that. There’s nothing wrong with not being straight.”

Damian had broached the topic using Dick as a proxy, so Bruce had followed his lead and assumed that Damian would know to automatically apply the assurance to himself. But Damian’s face just falls into a puzzled frown.

“So why…” he begins, before changing track. “Richard isn’t your biological son.”

Bruce frowns back.

“Damian, you know that doesn’t make a difference to me. I don’t love your siblings any less because they’re not-”

“I know,” Damian cuts in. “It isn’t about loving us differently.” He says it very matter of factly. “I have the ability to carry on your bloodline, whereas they do not.”

“That ability isn’t an obligation,” Bruce says, wondering why his kids never seem to be able to just worry about normal things. “And it’s certainly not something that you need to be thinking about at thirteen years old.”

Damian nods slowly, staring down at the desk with a look of intense concentration, before slowly raising his gaze to Bruce.

“Mother and Grandfather said that you wouldn’t like it, if I wasn’t interested in girls,” he says quietly.

Bruce sighs. of-fucking-course they did. He gets up from his chair, and moves around the desk to kneel in front of Damian.

“Well they’re wrong,” he says simply. “And they had no right to lead you to believe that it would make any difference to me. Just like I don’t love your siblings any less, my love for you is no more conditional. Understand?”

It takes a moment, but Damian nods.

“All right. In which case, I suppose... I’m gay.”

“And I’m proud of you,” Bruce says, before pulling his son into a hug.

Bruce

Bruce looks at his assembled family, and begins to feel a strange sense of trepidation tickling at the edge of his consciousness.

They’re all here. Trying to get the whole family together all at once is like pulling teeth. But he told them it was important, and they all came. There have been plenty of points over the course of the years when that wouldn’t have happened. And even though they’ve all been pretty settled with each other for a while now, he never wants to take for granted having his whole family together- not that he thinks the part of him that only seems to settle when he has all of his children within arm’s reach would let him.

The comfort of having them all be together is overwhelming, but the trepidation is still there, just like it probably always will be any time he manages to round up the courage for anything resembling feelings talk.

They’re all in one of the living rooms, sprawled in a comfortable half circle across various couches and chairs.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all,” Bruce starts to say.

“Are you dying?” Stephanie asks casually.

Beside her, Cass freezes, looking horrified.

“I’m not dying,” Bruce says quickly.

At the same time Steph rubs a hand up and down Cass’s arm and assures her she was kidding.

“Not like he’d tell us if he was,” Dick says.

He knows it’s meant to be a joke, just like Stephanie’s question had been, but it still sends a chill through him. Mostly because he can’t say for sure that Dick is totally wrong; it’s the kind of thing he easily could have kept to himself. But then he sees the uncertain frown that Damian is giving him, and Cass’s wide, anxious eyes, and decides that he has to be wrong.

“I’m not dying,” he repeats, reaching out for Tim who’s sitting closest to him, and who’s been staring very intently at the floor since the topic came up.

Tim leans into the touch without shifting his position.

“And I would tell you,” he adds seriously, feeling absolutely wracked with guilt over the fact that up until this moment he doesn’t know if he would’ve been able to claim that with any certainty.

“I swear, if there’s anything wrong with me, all of you will know as soon as possible.” By the time it comes out of his mouth, he knows he means it with total certainty.

“I think we’re all pretty tuned into the fact that there’s something wrong with you,” Jason offers, and the tension in the room breaks.

Bruce smiles despite himself. That was agonizing. Compared to that getting on with the conversation he’d previously been so apprehensive to have will be a relief.

“What did you want to tell us?” Duke asks.

“It can be… difficult for me to articulate what it means to me whenever one of you trusts me enough to share something about yourself. I thought that I owed it to all of you to return the favor, and share a… recent discovery of mine.” He stumbles through it as awkwardly as he’d expected to.

“This is weird,” Stephanie stage whispers.

“I’m bisexual,” Bruce admits.

“Bruce!” Dick says excitedly.

“Unacceptable,” Jason cuts in. “We already have enough of that nonsense in this house!”

Tim kicks him in the side.

“Well, seeing as it’s an option, I for one prefer the idea of you pursuing romantic entanglements that bear no risk of resulting in pregnancy.”

“Noted, Damian.”

“I’m happy for you, B,” Tim says. “It can be hard figuring yourself out.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

“Is that it?” Duke asks. “I mean, not that it’s not a big deal- and I’m happy for you too by the way- it’s just that most of our family meetings involve addressing some kind of crisis.”

“That’s it,” Bruce admits.

“Perhaps- seeing as we’re all here anyways- we could take this opportunity to have dinner together as a family for once,” Alfred offers.

[wangxianficrecs]

Hello can you recommend some time travel fics in which both wei wuxian and lan wangji time travelled back into the past and they become their very shameless selves and the cultivation world are just utterly confused and scandalised at their public display of affection?

The two that IMMEDIATELY spring to mind are:

❤️Fallen by Jaywalker_Holmes (M, 151k, wangxian)  my post here.

Summary:  A cultivation accident in the future destroys Mo XuanYu’s frail body and sends Wei WuXian’s soul back into the past, in his six-year-old body. This time, armed with the knowledge of his future self and his love for his beloved Lan WangJi, he decides to rewrite his destiny and protect those he loves. Will the YiLing Patriarch have a happier life this time?

and 

❤️ unabashed indecency

by quags1re T, 25k, WIP (READ IT ANYWAY!!!)

Summary:  Jiang Cheng glances down at Wei Wuxian’s notes, which have tiny doodles of Lan Wangji and many variations of Lan Wuxian drawn into the margins. “Holy shit,” he gasps, unable to contain his glee.

...  wei wuxian falls at 15.

.

❤️Wangxian’s Time-Travelling Shenanigans

by pupeez4eva

T, 13k, (series in progress) [my post here]

Summary (Part 1):  “Wei Wuxian ignored Jiang Cheng’s hysterical yell, the whispers that had suddenly broke out around them, the scandalised looks of the Gusu Lan disciples — or the way Lan Qiren’s face paled in a mixture of shock and horror — and pulled back, peering into Lan Wangji’s face. His face which, Wei Wuxian suddenly realised with mounting dread, was a lot younger than he remembered it being.”Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji end up in their younger bodies mid-way through the events at Guanyin Temple. Wei Wuxian isn’t about to let a little issue like that — or the numerous other people surrounding them — stop him from confessing his love.

.

❤️Wangxian’s Time-Travelling Shenanigans by pupeez4eva (T, 13k, (series in progress) my post here.

Summary (Part 1):  “Wei Wuxian ignored Jiang Cheng’s hysterical yell, the whispers that had suddenly broke out around them, the scandalised looks of the Gusu Lan disciples — or the way Lan Qiren’s face paled in a mixture of shock and horror — and pulled back, peering into Lan Wangji’s face. His face which, Wei Wuxian suddenly realised with mounting dread, was a lot younger than he remembered it being.”Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji end up in their younger bodies mid-way through the events at Guanyin Temple. Wei Wuxian isn’t about to let a little issue like that — or the numerous other people surrounding them — stop him from confessing his love.

.

No, Lan Wangji, You Cannot Marry Someone You Just Met!

by soulmateenthusiast

T, 41k, wangxian, 6/15, WIP

Summary:  Wei Wuxian was tinkering with a new talisman just before he went to bed with his husband. When he opened his eyes, he finds himself a few decades younger, standing on the roof of Cloud Recesses with a jar of Emporor’s Smile in his hand. He turns to his right and sees an equally confused, equally young Lan Wangji halfway into drawing out his sword.

–

Or, WWX and LWJ accidentally travel back in time, attempt to save everyone, and try to convince the Lan Clan elders to let them marry early. The last one goes about as well as they thought it would.

.

things happen, don’t ask

by MarbleGlove

T, 5k, wangxian

Summary:  Time travel from the outsider perspective mostly looks like you somehow missed *a lot* of character and relationship development.

AKA, that time sixteen-year-old Wei WuXian showed up at Cloud Recesses, took one look at Lan WangJi and declared, “That’s my future husband!” … and Lan WangJi said, “Mm.”

.

And here is a whole post of time travel fix-its, but not necessarily ones where the boys are shameless about it.

[ciriceart]

OC profiles: the Lawson family

From the now-defunct semi-interactive comic/creative writing projects, “Hunger, Nevada”, “Far From Any Road”, and “Saudade”.

The plot of these three stories cover topics and conflicts such as learning to relate to those around you, breaking toxic cycles, smalltown stagnation and the isolation of close-knit communities, and metaphorical (sometimes literal) body horror monsters that slowly poison towns and families. I wrote these stories from the ages of 14 to 21, and they're all very much a reflection of myself and my perspectives/outlook at those times. I still go back and revisit certain areas, but can't see myself rewriting them in full any time soon. I feel like that would be a disservice to my past self - I used these to sort out and explore my own feelings and hangups, and they served their purpose, but I still draw and talk about the boys more often than I expected I would when I drew my first doodle of Ellis and Lawrence in 8th grade detention. This post is just an infodump about the family of the main characters. I'm not getting into plot details just yet. Though it is worth noting, this was at the height of my Silent Hill hyperfixation, and Ellis and Lawrence began life as the protags of my imaginary Silent Hill fangame for which I made an entire gamefaqs walkthrough because I did not know how to write or draw too well. That doesn't really matter too much now, I just think it's fun.

The Lawson family consists of Francis (or Frank) and Amalia Lawson, and their two sons, Ellis and Lawrence.

Frank is a large man, about 6’3 with green eyes, short auburn hair,  and a beard. His skin is somewhat pale but has a minor farmer’s tan from working outdoors, and there’s a spatter of freckles across his entire face. He sometimes wears rectangular half-frame glasses and uses a walking stick.

Amalia is about 5’4 and stocky, with dark brown, almost black hair cut in the patented Mom Bob(tm) with bangs and dark eyes. Her face is somewhat oblong with round, soft features and her skin is a warm mid-to-light brown.

Ellis ranges in age from 17 to 26 across plots. His facial structure favors his father. He’s about 5’10,  has very light brown skin, freckles on his face, arms, chest and shoulders, dark eyes and auburn hair. As a teenager, his hair reaches to about his jaw with an off-center part, and he keeps it short and parted on the side as he gets older. He usually at least attempts to comb his hair back but half of it just falls back in front of his face anyway. Sometimes sports various non-serious injuries such as scratches and bruises. He’s rough-and-tumble.

As a teen, most of his outfits consist of torn up jeans, skater shoes, and a plethora of graphic or band tees. Sometimes an old flannel stolen from dad, or black canvas jacket. As an adult, he wears mostly intact but faded black work pants, black or brown work boots, a plain T-shirt and often an unbuttoned overshirt with either short sleeves or the sleeves rolled up.

Lawrence also ranges in age across stories, from 9 to 17. His facial structure favors his mother. He has pale skin, freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, green eyes, and auburn hair in a short, choppy buzzcut that he later grows out to reach past his shoulders as he gets into his teens. As a child, he’s very short and scrappy, and then becomes gangly and awkward as a teenager.

As a child, his wardrobe is typically all childish graphic tees and cargo shorts or jeans, all picked out by his parents. As he gets older, he becomes introverted and shy, always covering himself up in an absurd number of layers – he's often seen wearing a short-sleeved shirt with long sleeves underneath, either a flannel or sweater, and a massively oversized forest green jacket with a red fleece collar. He usually sticks to plain, slightly baggy jeans and sneakers.

--

Frank and Amalia married in their mid to late 20’s and moved to Frank’s hometown of Ansley, [state redacted].

Frank works in a hardware store and as a repairman. Some years ago, Frank suffered a spinal injury, resulting in chronic pain and his use of a walking stick. He still works at the hardware store and takes repair jobs, though he’s unable to work as often or for as long as he used to.

Ellis drops out of high school in the second quarter of 11th grade to work full-time at the hardware store and begins picking up smaller repair jobs around town. Lawrence, being much younger, is not employed but occasionally does smaller tasks such as sweeping up or organizing shelves after closing hours, or tagging along with his brother or dad on repair jobs to help where he can.

Amalia works at a packing and shipping facility in the city. She works overnight, six days a week with Mondays off. She’s usually home about an hour before her sons have to get up for school. Amalia’s pack a day smoking habit and Frank’s temper are the subjects of most conflicts, but they never progress past passive aggressive remarks or heated discussions. The family occasionally relies on financial help from a man named Mike, whose family has been friends with Frank’s for several years, to make ends meet. He’s often the reason that their heat and water stay on.

The Lawsons are a practicing family of Amicists. They regularly attend service at The First Church of the Shoal United in the next town over. More on Amicism at a later date.

Ellis has a lot of pent up resentment toward authority figures and “grown-ups” in general, even into his own adulthood, due to Backstory Reasons I won’t get into here.

James, Marie, Robin, and Brian are Ellis’ friends from high school. They mostly sit around smoking pot and watching bad movies, sneak out to drink at the park after curfew, and attempt to skate in vacant parking lots.

James was held back in middle school and is one or two years older than the rest of the group. Most parents in town still call him Jimmy and think he’s a very nice boy. If asked to describe him, his long line of ex-girlfriends would say “he’s so nice, but GOD he’s so dumb.” Marie was closer to Robin and James than she was to Ellis, so they didn’t hang out outside of the group at all. She thought Ellis was kinda weird, but not a “bad weird” so she never mentioned it or complained. Robin is that sort of midwestern emo girl in everyone’s math class who’s an artist, but all she draws is semi realistic eyes with elaborate eyeliner in her English notes. She regularly gets into arguments with Ellis and James on what genre different bands count as. Brian is the obvious stoner friend who would be kinda chill to hang out with if he weren’t so loud and annoying about how his parents totally don’t even care and just like, totally let him do whatever he wants.

Dropping out of high school to work a fulltime job, having no interest in college, minimal relationship experience, and staying in such a small and rural town leads to Ellis becoming socially isolated and unable to fully relate with people his own age. He slowly falls out of touch with his friends and people he knew from school, preferring surface level interactions with older coworkers, relatives and friends of the family.

Lawrence, as a result of his older brother’s attempt at parenting while Frank and Amalia are working, learns to be untrusting and uncooperative as well. He picks up a smoking habit by age 14, often stealing them from Ellis or from their mom's purse when she’s home, and sneaks out of his and Ellis’ shared bedroom through the window at night.

Lawrence is a nice kid, but struggles to make friends. Throughout all of middle school and into high school, he only manages to befriend two others named Catherine and Donnie.

Donnie is Brian’s little brother. He and Lawrence aren’t actually friends, but they tend to tag along when Ellis and Brian hang out at each other’s houses. Catherine has known Lawrence since they were in third grade, but they never hung out until they got put in the same advanced math class in middle school.

As he gets older, Lawrence begins to neglect his few friendships and social life in favor of fiction; most notably stories and unfiction focusing on the occult and supernatural, as well as a video game series called Sprout Friends, a puzzle game involving farming and anthropomorphic fruits and vegetables. If he isn’t hiding out on the rooftop of the house at night, he’s locked in the bedroom playing one of multiple Sprout Friends titles, or hunting for strange occurrences around town during the night.

--

Fun fact: Ellis' middle name is Layne, and Lawrence's middle name is Elijah. I thought it would be cute if their middle names had the same first letters as each other's firsts.

[nervousandstoned]

THOMAS: ??? 

THOMAS: What the...?

THOMAS: Oh wait! I totally forgot I nngh- AH SHIT- made an ask blog! 

THOMAS: I really like the series! It’s a horror-romance rpg. Kissy Kissy, Bang Bang! IV is supposed to be the most intense game in the franchise.

THOMAS: In the newest game, you play as Yuki Yamamoto, bi-gender dumbass who is in love with this guy named Kenneth Miller- but someone else is in love with Kenneth and that someone kidnaps you and locks you in her cabin out in the middle of the woods with like three- shit- three other characters and you have to escape before she catches you! I don’t know the full story since the game just- ah SHIT- came out, but it’s my favorite game franchise.

THOMAS: It’s the first game they’ve released with an LGBT+ protagonist, and the youtubers and game reviewers who- SHITBALLS- got it pre-release said it was really inclusive and awesome! Sadly... I will not be able to purchase it though :(

THOMAS: And yes, I do happen to play video games a lot. Usually horror games, but I own all the Viva Piñata games, I have Minecraft so I can- (squeak) - COCK- play it with my brother, and Overwatch. I’m a Junkrat main!

THOMAS: Anyways... Hey, I have an ask blog and they’re wondering how your day at the mall has been!

TWEEK: DKJSGKFDSJN OH SHIT THEY CAN SEE US? ABSKJDF AAAGH- HOW DOES THAT WORK MAN?! OH GOD HAVE THEY BEEN WATCHING ME THIS ENTIRE TIME? SHIT SHIT SH-

THOMAS: No... They haven’t, Tweek. I think the blog just started working right before I came in here- shit! And I think it only follows me around.

TWEEK: mMMM... Alright I believe you, Thomas...

MARJORINE: We’ve been having an alright day! I originally came to pick up a new set of drumsticks from the store Kenny works at.

KENNY: Yeah, because you snapped your drumsticks in half by playing your set too hard during our last rehearsal.

MARJORINE: You can’t expect me to not get excited! The song is a headbanger, honey. I just... I can’t help but get super into it! Anyway... Kenny had just gotten off work and Tweek got here half an hour ago to get new dice and such for our superhero game!

THOMAS: Well, you see... It’s actually not too complicated.

THOMAS: Marjorine, Tweek, and Kenny are all in a band. Everyone in town knows who they are... However, I- FUCK- guess I befriended them all in different ways outside o-of the uh... Band thing they have going.

[Thomas has blocked out any background noise while he answers the question]

MARJORINE: What if HE shows up to the game, guys? And if HE shows up, what if HE brings his gross boyfriend? I can tolerate Corey. He’s Thomas’s brother, he’s a good kid! but... Not him. He brings out the worst in him.

THOMAS: Marjorine and I actually met at the library through a Dungeons and Dragons club that Kyle had started-(squeak)- in middle school, before she came out as a girl. She wanted to be a classic human paladin and I was a cool homebrew faun bard. She- shitfuckass- and I went out for a bit until she came out, then we kinda just went our separate ways since I’m gay. Although, we’re- COCK!- definitely still friends.

KENNY: I doubt they’re gonna be there, sugar. Besides- if he is, Kyle, Scott, and I will keep them in check. Plus, if Thomas is coming, we’ll have him as backup too. There’s no way they’ll fuck us over if we have four of us who know how to kick ass.

THOMAS: I met Kenny through Kyle. He uh.... He introduced me to Kenny when I invited him and his family over for Hanukkah back in the fifth grade. He’d brought Kenny and Kenny’s siblings along with his family since Kenny had been spending the holidays with- shit- them that year due to some issues back home. 

THOMAS: ... Kenny’s the whole reason I actually came out to my mom if I’m being completely honest. He’s awesome.

TWEEK: Make that five, Ken. Let’s not aargh- forget you’ve been teaching me self defense... And I know how to box.

KENNY: Oh yeah, you’re right, huh?

TWEEK: Yeah.

TWEEK: Anyway, Thomas, you got anything in mind for your character?

THOMAS: And then there’s Tweek. Man, uh, I actually met Tweek when he and Craig were a thing. After they split up, I dated Craig for a while, and then Tweek. Then Tweek and I separated again and he went back out with Craig up until last year. I... I actually fuck- I actually uhm... I never stopped having major feelings for him, if I’m being totally honest.

THOMAS: But I’d never have a chance with him now that he’s fully dedicated and in a relationship with Marjorine and (squeak squeak) Kenny. Plus, unfortunately, we just stressed each-other out 24-FUCKINGCOCKASS-7...

TWEEK: Thomas?

THOMAS: Huh? Wha-...?

TWEEK: I asked if you had anything in mind for your character, man. Since, ya know, Kyle used to yap all about our superhero game and franchise bullshit all the time to you when we were younger.

THOMAS: Oh- uh, yeah, I kinda do. I have a bunch of doodles and notes in my sketchbook out in my truck.

TWEEK: That’s good. Anyway, uh. We’re gonna meet up at my ngh- parents’ coffee shop tonight for the superhero roleplay. Bring dice and that sketchbook of yours. I think we’re expecting a total of 11 people tonight, counting ourselves.

TWEEK: Are you okay with that? You don’t personally know three of them, but they’re all super cool.

THOMAS: O-oh, yeah that’s just fine! I’ll uh... I’ll see you there at...?”

TWEEK: Aah-! Just be there by 4 o’clock, okay? I’ll- 

[GROUND BEGINS SHAKING VIOLENTLY]

THOMAS: What the fuck-?

KENNY: Guys, what the hell are you standing around for?! Get under something!

[LIGHTS GO FLICKER AND GO OUT]

TWEEK: GRAASALKF I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING!!

THOMAS: I can’t either!!

KENNY: Wait- what the fuck- is that a light?!

THOMAS: L...light?

[... CONNECTION TO ASK BOX LOST ...]

[... RECONNECTING ...]

[... PLEASE WAIT MOMENTARILY ...]

[... ... ...]

[... RECONNECTED TO ASK BOX ...]

[... THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE ...]

[guardmesherlock-rowan]

MC’s robots!

Anon:  Could I request something with the three main boys - like the MC is secretly back at college and studies something in the tech branch but is struggling hard with math because she has a mean combo of learning disability and adhd and so she is keeping it hush hush because she always wanted to create robots but she loves acting too and the boys and parents have always praised her for her acting leaving unsure how to communicate that she wants more - basically something neurodiv. (+) positiv.  Please

(I hope this is something like what you’re looking for)

Finally, some things clicked.  Her notebook is full of notes, doodles, and more importantly a math problem that MC had been trying to solve.  She had done it a few different ways, and some of them tried more than once getting different answers each time.  Only when she was trying to make sure that her dinner didn’t burn that she realized why it hadn’t worked.  Turned out the third time she tried to solve it she was almost right.  It was frustrating, but it also felt like such a relief that she could use it and get further on the project.  The building would be closing soon, but while she was thinking about it she wanted to put it to work.  So it was there tomorrow if it worked, and find out now if it didn’t just in case she was wrong again.

MC put earbuds in, listening to music in hopes that she could stay focused on her destination and not get sidetracked.  There are little tricks that she had learned and picked up to make it a little easier for herself.  Especially when she wasn’t ready to come out and tell her friends and family.  She loved the creative acting side and analyzing characters and putting on a performance and letting those characters breathe through her.  But she also loved being creative in how she went about creating robots and being analytical in solving her problems with them.  Her parents were always supportive of her acting, but she knew they had been concerned when she was younger about her trouble with more science and math based classes and didn’t want to worry them until she could show them what she could do.  

Then with her friends, they would probably be supportive and would want her to do what she likes to do.  However, they’re all very smart.  They praised her for her acting abilities too.  Would they see her differently at all if they found out the truth?  Would they think she wasn’t as clever as they had thought?  Even if it wasn’t likely, the worries weighed heavily enough that MC held back talking to them about it.  They would know once she was ready to share her accomplishments with them.

That’s what she told herself as she hurried to the lab.  Only to come to a halt in the doorway, her stomach churning as she took in the sight before her.  The lab was a disaster.  Half the projects that had been completed by her classmates laid shattered on the floor, and the teacher stood there talking to someone she wished wasn’t making direct eye contact with her.

Sherlock:  He was surprised to see MC there.  But he had been following the progress of the class due to the curious nature of a few of the projects, so when he heard there was a break in he came hoping for an interesting case.  There was one, but not as interesting as he’d hope.  Solved before the teacher was even halfway through explaining what they knew.  Now he sees the horror flickering across her face.  She didn’t expect to see him there.  She had come for some purpose.  She carried a bookbag with her.  She must be a student.  It is late in the day, she must be rushing to add something to a project that couldn’t have waited.  “Miss MC?”  The teacher started, “did you come to work on your project?”  

“No.”  Too fast, too high.  MC was startled and surprised.  Normally she could cover up a lie faster than that.  The teacher gave her a kind smile.

“Luckily your project is one of the few that are intact if you wanted to take a look at it?”  He indicated off to one of the tables.  The project that sat on it was not nearly as far along as some of her classmates, and not as progressed as the trashed pieces had been.  She had been struggling.  

He wrapped up with the teacher, letting him know which student had been the culprit and for what reason.  And turned his attention to MC while the teacher rushed out to update security on the matter.  Sherlock stepped up to the table where she sat looking down at her projects.  “I don’t know why you’re hiding this, but I respect your privacy.  You will tell me when you’re ready?”  It was strange, normally he would want answers immediately.  But since it was MC, he would wait as long as she needed.  “Your robot looks promising, I hope you will show it to me once it’s finished.”  He added, helping MC smile a little bit.

John: John stood talking with the teacher, taking notes as needed.  Sherlock had been too busy to go but was still insistent that John needed to go in his place.  Which worked out in a way.  As now he got to see MC, though he didn’t know why she would be there.  He finished up taking notes from the teacher and taking pictures as the teacher directed MC to a back table where another project sat. 

John couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong, but MC seemed very tense.  As soon as he was done collecting the notes for Sherlock he hurried over to where she sat.  “What are you doing here?”

“I’m- uh.”

“Are you taking classes here?”  John encouraged, he wasn’t as good as Sherlock, but he could at least see that the teacher knew her.  

“Yeah…”

“That’s cool!  Is this your project?”

“Yeah.”

“What does it do?”

She sighed, “right now it doesn’t do anything.  I still need to work on it.”  

“Well, that’s alright.  A lot of projects are works in progress.”  She sat there silently, it was unusual for her to be that quiet.  “Hey, if you don’t want me to say anything, I’ll keep my lips shut.  But I got to warn you that Sherlock may figure it out anyway.  He’s weird that way.  But everyone’s brains work a little differently you know.  Sherlock is just super observant.  Maybe he’ll tell due to-”  John fumbled for words, “a strand of your hair on my clothing covered in pollen from trees I walk by on my way home.  I’ve seen him do something like that.”

“I guess.  Looks like my secret is going to be uncovered.”

“Maybe… do you want to go find someplace to grab something to eat?  Then I can say I ran into you and we got food.”

“I already had dinner.”

“Desert then?”  John smiled sweetly.  “If you came to work on your project I’m afraid you’re not going to until they sort things out.  It’s kind of a crime scene.”

“Sure.”  MC smiled.

“We can talk about anything you’d like.”

“I think I’d like that.”

James: There was hardly anything that happens in the school without his knowledge.  Or anything that happens to MC without him knowing.  It wasn’t the same school he worked for, but he was known well enough that when something happened in MC’s class no one questioned when he swung in to help advise an old colleague of his.  

It was only a blessing that MC would arrive at the same time.  He bid the teacher farewell and went over to her.  “MC!  What a lovely surprise!  What brings you here?”  He smiled adoringly.  

“Did something happen here?”  She looked around at the chaos.  But James stepped in close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and escorted her out of the lab.  “Seems that some lad got jealous because a classmate’s project could do what his did but faster.  Then to cover it up he trashed different projects in his half of the room.  Childish really.  I’m so glad that your project was left unharmed.  I was looking forward to hearing how well it goes.”

“How did you know about my robot?”  She stopped, standing to face him.  

“I was visiting and noticed your name on the paperwork near it a while back.”  He lied so easily.  “But I figured there was a reason you didn’t tell me.  I was hoping maybe you wanted to surprise me.  I know you’re good at that.”  

“Actually, I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you about it.”  She admitted.  

James faked a little gasped, “but why not?”

Mc shook her head, “I don’t think you would understand.”

“MC.”  James carefully took her chin and tilted her face to his.  “There is nothing about you that I don’t want to know.  Please, if there’s something bothering you, let me help you.  All you need to do is ask.”

“I know, thank you.”

“How about over dessert?”  

“Now?”

“No time better.”  He gently took her hand and led her towards the doors.

[popculturebuffet]

Jake Reviews Stuff: Close Enough: Logans Run’d and Room Parents

IT’S FINALLY HERE, PERFORMING FOR YOU. Seriously I have waited 3 years for this. And while yes thanks to a combination of a french animation festival and HBO’s own oopsie doodle I was able to watch 3 episodes already, and review them, it dosen’t make this any less sweet.  The fandom can finally come togehter as a whole and enjoy the hell out of the series. And doubling my excitment is the fact that HBO Max dropped 15 episodes! 14 episodes bundled into half hours and one extra long episode that seems to feature one of the greatest musicans and comedians of all-time, a man who needs no introduction but hell if i’m not giving him one. WEIRD, AL, YANKOVIC!

I could not be more excited if I tried. And yes that’s with full awarness my pre-amphibia and owl house workload just became at LEAST 4 times what I expected and this may be all there is. Having to review 12 episodes still means getting to WATCH 12 episodes of a show I truly adore. It’s an easy trade off. So with that out of the way, we can dig into close enough’s second two episodes and see if the show can keep the momentum from the first pair! Door’s open, let’s do this! The full review and spoilers under the cut. 

Logans Run’d   With Candace having her first sleepover Josh and Emily (Who apparently aren’t on good enough terms with their parents to have them watch her something I hope they explore later in the series), have their first Candace free evening and spend it as you’d expect for a 35 year old couple: Pelvic thrusting to turn down to what while doing general errrands then planning to have a nice night in of tea and the great british baking show, which continues this show’s hard to get used to trend of using actual brand names.  The two invite Bridgette to join them which she scoffs at saying the pair, and Alex who is not only delighted to join them but is in an old timey sleeping costume with listening horn which, no joke, is his profile picture on the show’s website, which feels perfect honestly and I love everything about that. 

The three soon realize to their horror through flashback that they indeed are old (Hilariously alex’s is literally just his introduction in this episode), and beg Bridgette to take them along to a club, Logan’s Run’d. What follows is the three of them getting hard core drunk all the way to 9PM while  Bridgette flirts with a younger guy and youtube sensation and who looks like the earth 3 version of hank venture.. until it turns out he’s actually a toddler wearing some sort of robot suit because of course.  Things go south however both as our heroes realize their running out of steam.. and as another 30 something is made VIP>.. which in this club is being murdered to death by a giant fan. With blood which I”m sure JG was giddy to do first chance it was approriate given he did 8 years of a show on a children’s network and children’s networks hate blood as much as they hate actually letting shows mention the concept of death directly by name.  Naturally the four of them want to book it out of there: While Bridgette , if she wasn’t lying about her age to the toddler, isn’t in the danger zone, she still just hit on a toddler and is naturally afraid of going to prison, but get stopped by the bar guy. Alex, in a supremeley sad yet badass moment, pulls out his blockbuster card and prepares to sacrifice himself for his friend’s sake: Partly because he cares about them and candace and partly because he’s worried he has nothing left to live for now he’s old, something I myself worry about going into my 30′s next year. Josh (Emily takes a second to join in) rushes to save his best bud and the two reassure Alex he has a future, a future of not having to get new music, of having nights of just relaxing and watching tv and getting pepper in your beard for , as Alex puts it “That george clooney look” Bridgette was the last one and guards her friends from being murdered for obvious reasons before breaking the fan.  Our heroes are saved, alex and me honestly as all of that sounds really appealing to be honest and I live 2/3 of it already, are convinced that growing old is pretty sweet. Oh and the owner turns out to be an old guy, as Alex realizes when he refrences logans run and is murdered by the crowd. Our heroes enjoy pancakes, Bridgette still finds the guy cute which.. no no bridgette just no, and Alex muses about them having seen a man die.  Final Thoughts: A decent episode.. while not as good as 100% no stress day ahead of it or the previous episode, i’ts a simple episode with good gags, an utterly great character moment for Alex which shows that despite his weirdo exterior he’s a damn good guy and he has something to live for. Also the toddler subplot was stupid and kinda creepy. A decent gag filled episode withs ome great ones and some really good animation. Also the opening is utterly iconic, easily one of the shows best jokes so far and probably in total and still works despite the use of turn down for what being slightly dated, but it works because it’s just really damn funny. Not the series best thus far but it’s still okay if a standard episode is this enjoyable. 

Room Parents: Now this is the good shit. It’s parent meeting time at Candace’s school with Me Daughter Teacher having one last announcment while Josh is about to pass out from having to hold in 3 powerades... dude should’ve gone for gatorade.. it still goes through you it just tastes objectivley better. Anyways me Daughter Teacher locks the room for the announcment because he needs a room parent and things quickly turn to purge as everyone is either fleeing or trying to murder each other to avoid it. While i’m not a parent, I can at leat understand not wanting to give time to do this when your schedule is likely already a hellscape. Josh (Who wonders if they got a purge going, got a good laugh out of me. ), being basically what if Mr. Peanutbutter had an illigitmate son he dind’t know about, and i’m still not convinced he’s not his dad until the show proves otherwise, happily volunteers to Emily’s horror.  Josh however.. is entirely game. He even makes a dad joke calling it a “Fun Raiser” to emily’s annoyance. It’s a nice show of just HOW opposite the two are: Emily being more stressed, as 100% stress day proved/will prove given it’s after this episode even though i’ve already seen it but it’s set later but...

The point is she’s a ball of stress while he’s a ball of enthusasim just like his dad, who i’m now just.. 100% convinced is his dad and dosen’t know it. Prove me wrong. Anyways Josh meets Nikki another parent whose own son is ominously framed in shadow because of course something weird about her who offers to pitch in.. and is also transparently intrested in josh.  The next day Josh and nikki talk on the phone and Bridgette and Alex instantly pick up that she’s into him and that josh is the kind of guy every girl wants, with Bridgette sighting the look when he inhales mustard and Alex, being the objectivley best, citing his thin papery jack of clubs body type. I’m now 100% convinced they all had a foursome at some point before the divorce which Emily tries not to think about and Emily isn’t convinced.. until Josh, in another great gag, says Nikki said “wash your balls, so random”.  Emily, now panicked, enlists Pearle who gladly volunteers her spy van, because Pearle is also objectivity the best, to go spy on alex in a montage set to heart’s crazy on you were we get our image for this episode which is a great gag.. especailly Emily mouthing “Wait afterwords’ and it being followed by them going to the sex hotel.. which is actually the essex hotel.. which is for affairs as it’s sign says. It’s hard not to just list gags for this show because it’s damn good but i’ll try.  Emily then confronts Josh that night (doing the dramatic light turning on thing by holding the lamp another great gag), and Josh explains no he’s not cheating on her because he’s a pure boy, and he aquises to her, also finally realizing Nikki’s been transparently trying to seduce him.  Naturally their attempt to uncoroomparenther before the Fundraiser goes pear shaped as it turns out Nikki is a con artist who pulls what professionals call a josh , scam a stressed parent, tie him up or kill him and then steal the fundraiser money for a school, for a living (She has another one cooking at the moment) and leaves them. Emily orders a knife via a delivery service, while a waiting Pearle wonders where they are.. which raises a lot of questions. WHy pearle is there is easy, she’s supporting Candace and her friends/tennants. That part is easy. Why she brought Randy, who at least at this point is objectively useless and why Alex and BRidgette AREN’T there I can’t explain. Maybe mecha pope garfield rose from the grave. Maybe Bridgette’s fucking that clown again. Maybe Alex has more garifled theroies to bust out. Actually those last two answer my question for me.. I mean someome’s gotta reveal Garfield was a founding member of the Justice Society of America. 

Our heroes arrive however to Foil Nikki , who thent ries to escape on a children’s train.. which being a children’s train Josh and Emily just hop on and in a hilarious bit slowly remove the kids before ending up with Candace, who says “daddy’s girlfriend is getting away”. Jessica DiCiccio is a delight as Candace and her delivery is impecable here. However Nikki switches tracks and cranks up the speed. Thankfully while Emily and Candace fall off the train pearle and Randy, who I STILL don’t know why he’s in this episode he has no lines and does nothing, catch them, leaving it to Josh to fix his mess. After a breif fight and a nut shot Josh sucesfully swaps the money for Nikki’s fake son/dummy who she chokes bart style before both explodes when they hit a thermometor factory.  Our heroes win, the fundraiser is a sucess and the teachers have elected Josh room parent for life (”That can’t be legally binding” “IT’S LEGALLY BINDING!”)  Final Thoughts: A great , really damn funny episode with a great premise. While Emily being worried Josh would cheat seems weird given he’s a nice enough guy, it’s sometimes understandable to be panicky about that sort of thing and her worry is warnated given one party is trying to seduce her husband, josh is just too stupid to realize, which makes for a lot of great gags. It’s a really tighly done episode that like the above is more pure comedy and just hilarious, but has even better jokes and a much better executed premise to work with. And no weird toddler things. So overally a slam dunk.  I have more close enough reviews coming today, obviously though i’d rather watch the rest before reviewing them, but while I do you can shoot me an ask to talk more close enough, and in more serious matters... One of my best friend’s cat’s cancer has come back and being out of work and just having moved into a new appartment, he needs help paying for it. You can find the go fund me here.  And as always until we meet again, later days. 

[ratjamtime]

Day 1: Magic

When Sonic was younger, the idea of a soulmate grossed him out. He was 5! He didn’t wanna get married! That was for Sonia, who eagerly awaited to get her first soulmate dream at thirteen.

Sonic and Manic snickered at Sonia’s lovesick sighs and doodles of lovesick fantasies.

Sonic laughed until there was no one there to laugh with or at.

And then all thoughts of a soulmate were momentarily lost in a blur of childish fury. It’s a bit embarrassing to remember, running and crying and just generally being a wreck. Then again, he was just six.

It wasn’t until Sonic was twelve and an older brother that he remembered it.

A soulmate! What exactly did that entail with his lifestyle? Could he even afford a soulmate? He had enough issues with Tails as is. Sonic wasn’t sure if he could handle more people he cared about getting kidnapped, he was already getting grey quills from Tails!

On the other hand, maybe it’d be fine. It’d be nice to have more people around. People who wouldn’t think he looked weird or that Tails was a freak or anything like that.

It was a common reaction on Christmas Island and the islands around it. So far from the mainland, normally common mutations were few and in between and looked down upon.

It hadn’t been easy being one of three on Christmas Island. It hadn’t been easy being one so hard to get along with. It’s why he had snatched up Tails, young age and personal bad attitude withstanding. It was why he was excited to meet his soulmate.

A soulmate could change that. Who cared about romantic attention, he just wanted a friend. He just wanted someone to care about him and worry about Tails with him. He didn’t care if it was romantic or otherwise.

He was getting real sick and tired of taking care of himself and Tails alone.

“But Sooooonic! I don’t wanna go to bed!” Tails whined as Sonic tucked him into the tree, wriggling like a worm. “I wanna stay up and see your soulmate!”

Sonic chuckled, forcing the two tailed 6 year old into the hollow.

“Buddy, that’s not how that works. I’m gonna meet them in my dreams. Unless you’re a mind reader, staying up won’t let you met them sooner. Look, if things go well, we’ll plan a meeting as soon as possible. But I gotta meet 'em first."

Tails pouted but relented to that knowledge, curling up in the tree hollow.

"Hurry up and go to sleep then!" Tails cried out, pushing Sonic away. Sonic chuckled.

"Okay, okay, just remember as long as I'm asleep…"

"I stay in the knot hole!"

Sonic nodded and climbed up the tree, getting comfy on one of the branches.

It didn't take long to fall asleep and to slip into a dream. Geez, his soulmate bond was just as impatient as Sonic was.

The world looked hazy, as if he was standing in a cloud. Green eyes scanned the area, looking around for another figure.

Than there they were.

He couldn't see them clearly, their form a strange blobby shape.

"H-Hey!" Sonic said, raising a hand in greeting, anxiety coming through his voice. "I'm Ogilvie Maurice Hedgehog, but my friends call me-"

His soulmate backed away, shaking their head vigorously. Sonic felt a chill shiver down his back. He stepped forward towards them.

They backed up, shaking their head harder.

"....No! …..Soulmate…..monster! A monster!" Sonic couldn't hear his soulmate well but the few words he heard felt like a jab in the heart. Were they talking about him? M-Maybe he misheard?

They turned and ran.

"Wait-!"

Sonic woke up at 4 am with an ache in his chest.

His soulmate didn't want him.

Elise realized with horror that as soon as she hit the pillow, the world grew fuzzy and she knew she was having her first soulmate dream. 

No! She wasn't ready! She didn't have a speech prepared or anything!

Elise wasn't ready to reject her soulmate yet!

When she was young, a soulmate was all she thought about, notebooks full of plans for when she met the one. 

Then her mother died.

Then her father died too.

Than she learned why exactly she wasn't allowed to cry.

Than she realized her soulmate would pulled into the biggest mess this side of the mainland. 

Elise had determined that no one, no one, would be forced to deal with her mess. Not even her soulmate.

Elise turned and there they were, as foggy and as vague as the rest of the landscape. She vaguely noticed they were blue. Probably a mobian. 

They seemed to be saying something to her, a name maybe? Anyway, Elise shook her head, backing away.

She could do this. She could save them from herself.

They froze before following after her, hand outstretched. Elise shook her head violently.

"No! I can't be your Soulmate, I'm a monster! A monster!" 

Her soulmate froze again and Elise couldn't stand to be there anymore. She turned and ran.

Elise woke up in her bed, a heat in her chest and tears in her eyes. She wiped them away before they could fall.

She did it. She saved her soulmate.

She couldn't cry.

She wouldn't cry.

So Elise pressed her face in the pillow and screamed.

"Sonic, if I may ask, do you have a soulmate?" Elise questioned the hedgehog, fiddling with lace gloves. Sonic froze, fingerless gloves going up to tug anxiously at his scarf.

"Uh, why do you ask, Princess?" Sonic questioned, a blush in his cheeks.

"I-" Elise hesitated, chewing her lip. "I need your advice."

Oh.

"Ah, I see!" Sonic said, smiling up at her, trying not to let the hurt show. "Finally had your dream?"

"Well ...no."

"Huh?"

"It's…complicated. It's why I wished to speak with you." Elise admitted, looking away nervously. "I had my dream when I was 13. I was afraid that I'd ruin their life with my existence so I ran away." 

Sonic frowned, placing a gentle hand on top of hers.

"Elise….."

She smiled in gratitude at his support and continued onward.

"I understand now that was a mistake and I wish to repair the relationship that I fear I ruined. But…" Elise blushed. "I am already in love with someone else and do not know how to rebuild this lost bond and keep my heart for the one I already love."

"Elise, not every soulmate bond is romantic. If they can't respect your feelings, they don't deserve you." Sonic told her sternly, holding her single hand in two of his. "Please understand that." 

Elise smiled and nodded.

The silence between them was comfortable for a moment.

"You never answered my question." Elise said suddenly, turning her head back towards him.

"I…" Sonic hesitated. "I kinda blew any chance of anything with my soulmate. They didn't…"

Admit it, Sonic, just say it, Sonic thought furiously at himself.

"They didn't want me." 

Elise gasped.

"What?! How horrible! Are you certain?!"

"Yeah," Sonic nodded. "I'm certain. They-they called me a monster. They couldn't even see me, didn't even know me and they already hated me." 

He laughed dryly, a sarcastic grin on his face.

"Crazy, right? I didn't even care if it was romantic or platonic, I just wanted someone to have by my side. Someone who would love Tails and laugh at my jokes. I didn't care who. And they didn't care. They- they-"

Elise's hand brushed something wet off of Sonic's cheek and he suddenly realized he was crying.

Elise looked at him with a look of sympathy.

"Oh, Sonic….."

"I'm sorry," Sonic sniffled, wiping his cheeks harshly. "Here I am trying to cheer you up and I start blubbering like a toddler." 

Elise just pulled him into a hug.

"You're fine, Sonic," Elise reassured him. "You're as justified to your feelings as mine. Have you tried speaking to them since?"

"No."

"Well, maybe it was a misunderstanding! Try talking to them, get some answers! If they really are that horrible, I'll kick their butt!"

"Tell ya what," Sonic chuckled."I'll talk to my soulmate if you talk to yours, deal?"

"Deal."

Sonic took a deep breath as the world blended into cotton candy colors, the land blurred and vague.

They looked around, fiddling with his gloves when he saw them.

And they saw him.

Elise stared at the blue blob, steeling her nerve before marching towards them.

Sonic's eyes widened as they approached, forcing himself to stay in place. He would not be the one to run.

The closer Elise got, the less vague her soulmate looked. The blob seemed to mold into a small, familiar shape.

Sonic frowned as they approached, realizing just how tall- and familiar- they were…..

The two stared at each other.

"Sonic?"

"Elise?"

It took a moment before they started laughing, relieved, face splitting grins covering their faces.

"I can't believe it's you! I ran away from you!" Elise guffawed.

"And I thought you called me a monster!" Sonic snorted, shaking his head. " 'A misunderstanding', no duh!"

A moment passed and their laughter faded, leaving contented smiles.

"I'm glad it was you."

@soneliseweek2019

[mikzhyu]

Like, a summary of the plot and what happened in it? Or a retelling if you want to. I’m rlly curious. Oh this is rp Anon

for as far as we got up to before we stopped roleplaying it, the rp itself spanned over i think... 5 years. here’s a timeline with a brief description of what happens where.

i’m explaining the whole roleplay here, not just claus and giygas, and it’s also been a while (this was done over voice, not text) so bear with me.

i’ll add whatever doodles i had done of things that happened.

the rp takes place post-mother 3, like, immediately so. lucas wakes up once the world has been reset via the dragon and starts just, well, sadly going about his business. it’s only when -- i believe -- someone caught wind that someone was inside of the graveyard. when lucas went, it was actually claus, who had been brought back to life somehow after his death. they check to see if lucas’ wish fully came true, only to find that hinawa had not been brought back as well. (lucas wished for everything to return back to him... which included his brother and mother.)

soon after that, more strange sightings started. first was ninten, who promptly found ana being attacked by zombies in the graveyard. i don’t remember where lloyd came in. this is under the assumption that teddy had died at the end of mother 1. ninten has no clue how they got there, as they were just coming down mt. itoi from fighting giegue.

the earthbound crew was next; ness washing up from the beach, and honest to god i don’t remember where the other 3 appeared from. ness and co were taken from just after ness awakening to his powers in magicant.

the last person to appear out of nowhere was locria, of all people. not even they knew why or how they were alive.

that’s a lie, whoops. porky also was no longer in his weird orb thing or whatever. yeah, that spooks lucas and co. ness is confused as to why pokey is here too and why people are calling him porky. and why they’re so damn scared of him, of all things.

uhh.... blah blah, don’t remember stuff, probably a few weeks pass or whatever. yes, ness gets painfully homesick. no, they haven’t figured out a solution yet. they still don’t know how are why they all got here at all or why monsters are still appearing from everywhere.

i believe.... the next major plotpoint was that dr. andonuts managed to build/rebuild a replica time machine that the earthbound squad used to go and fight giygas fair and square, hoping that that’d set everything right again. they think they manage to defeat him, as he disappears at the end of the battle. they come back more or less safely.

very, very soon after they return claus starts to feel ill. like, really ill. in fact, he ends up shrieking in pain and ultimately shutting down without warning. i think dr. andonuts didn’t really find anything wrong with him, just that he overheated, but he couldn’t find a reason why.

once claus reawakens, he starts having weird thoughts, like a voice in the back of his head. strange deaths start to happen in tazmily, but nobody knows how or why. claus ultimately blames ninten and co for it, where ninten immediately lashes back out at him saying something really nasty, like “why should we trust you anyway? you worked under the enemy and served as their robot slave.” ninten, unfortunately, doesn’t even know why he said this and well, they kind of have a big fight. it would have ended poorly if ana hadn’t have stepped in when she did.eventually, claus starts to notice these weird things happening to himself. he tries to talk to lucas about it in his fear, but, well....

....yeah, that’s where this comic came from. claus literally shuts down without warning when he tries to say anything. ana even mentions soon enough that she feels a horrible evil energy radiating from claus and expresses her concern.

yadda yadda, again don’t remember these bits... i believe they do eventually realize that, somehow, giygas has taken shelter inside of claus. giygas is still weak of course, so he’s not able to do much other than slightly influence claus using his more mechanical parts.

for some wack ass reason, locria shows up. they tell lucas and co. off saying that they’re not here to cause any kind of issue, just mentioning that the only thing they hate more than them was giygas for destroying magicant. they offer to seal giygas away, and after much inner turmoil, claus agrees and inevitably gets stabbed with a needle to seal him away. the seal is then kept in osohe castle.

and for 4 years, it stays there. monsters still appear but are far less aggressive and don’t appear as often. claus doesn’t hear a peep from giygas during this time, and everyone typically spends their time just trying to find a way to get the mother 1 + 2 crew back to their proper timelines. they don’t succeed. (irrelevant to the plot, but ninten + ana get together as well as lucas + ness.)

during these years, giygas had been recovering his energy again. of course, it required far more to even try and sneak his power out from the seal, but inevitably he does. using claus’ self-doubt and self-loathing, giygas managed to influence him enough to pull the needle while he’s not thinking correctly. locria doesn’t sense the danger until it’s too late, and inevitably they fade back away.

giygas is now in complete control of claus. all claus can do is watch from the back of his mind as his own body does such unspeakable things.

after this, claus, the egg of light, and lloyd all go missing. it’s easy to assume why claus and the egg of light are missing (the egg contains all the information giygas wants after all), but nobody knew how or why lloyd went missing.

some time passes. giygas is eventually located and at first a small group goes to scout ahead while the others deal with another issue, probably all the monsters overrunning tazmily. ness is the first to find him, and ends up having to fight him alone -- which ends very, very poorly. ness gets sucked back into (earthbound’s) magicant, where giygas manages to completely shatter his mind into pieces, rendering the boy completely emotionless and unable to do anything by himself.

everyone else arrives later on, and there’s a huge fight between everyone and giygas, who is now puppeteering ness. it only ends when everyone realizes they need to retreat, as most of everyone takes near-fatal damage in the fight. i believe ninten and poo manage to teleport everyone back, where lucas realizes in horror that they left ness behind. or something. they left someone behind. lucas learns how to use teleport here, since everyone else is far too exhausted to do it again. when they come back, giygas and ness are gone.

more time passes. still, nobody knows where giygas, ness, or lloyd are. lucas at this point is uh... not feeling too hot, and tensions are at an all-time high. during this time there’s a scene where giygas and ness are taking residence in whatever the heck lab is in mother 3 (sorry it’s been a while), and lloyd shows up, presenting the egg of light to giygas. giygas realizes he doesn’t know how to pull the information out of the egg and just shoves it off onto ness to hold onto for a while.

oh yeah, i forgot something related to porky happened here. i don’t remember how it ended, but giygas encountered porky here, who reveals that he has done the unthinkable -- he’s gone back in time to literally steal his younger self’s body so that he’s far more flexible again.

that’s more important than it sounds. because, using the egg of light’s power, queen maria manages to reach the depths of ness’ mind still somehow tucked away and rotting and guides him back to his robot body to help him fix all of this.

eventually giygas figures he needs to seek out the guardian of the egg of light, who happens to be kumatora. he more or less just shows up on their doorstep and threatens to kill everyone if she doesn’t. he nearly does, too, because kumatora doesn’t know how to open the egg either, but in her distress as duster is beginning to die away from giygas’ attacks, she manages to get it open somehow. giygas ultimately releases duster to grab the egg, leaving him still alive, albeit barely.

i don’t remember how, but one of the robot bodies that dr. andonuts made shows up and shoves the puppet ness away from everyone, stopping him from killing them all. giygas commands puppet ness to get rid of it, and the two duke it out for a while, before the robot casts a really high level of starstorm and just absolutely knocks puppet ness the fuck out. the robot then walks over, grabs the hat that puppet ness dropped, and sticks it on his head, signifying that he’s ness’ mind taking residence there.

giygas decides he needs to take measures into his own hands and tries to dip into the robot’s mind again like he had done with ness before to try and squish out that dying light. it’s here that he finds that it’s maria herself that is protecting ness, and giygas simply cowers in fear and despair from her. robot ness is able to deliver the final blow on him, knocking giygas right back into the deep recesses of claus’ mind. ness is able to merge back into his proper body.

surprisingly, this is the part where i start remembering less... even though it’s the most recent stuff that happened. i think there was another little time skip? not too big of one, though. during this time, more and more chimeras start appearing and attacking tazmily rather than just all the random beings being overly aggressive. ness and lucas go out somewhere in the mountains together, only for the two of them to end up stuck in moonside somehow.

ness and lucas get separated here, but using that one dude from earthbound who fucking died in moonside’s guidance, lucas manages to find ness and get them both out of moonside.

except, when they return, nobody can see ness. and... there’s another ness still in tazmily? we’ll call them ghost!ness and other!ness. yeah, there’s a lot of nesses in this rp. lucas doesn’t quite trust other!ness, believing that it’s some sort of moonside trick and he’s there to hurt everyone. but of course, nobody believes lucas that ghost!ness is even there or exists.

eventually, after ninten and ana figure out that they can see ghost!ness, they use the method of a pop quiz and find out that ghost!ness is the fake one after all. it’s far too late, though, because ghost!ness drags the whole gang straight into moonside together, revealing himself to actually be moonside!ness, the new manimani that porky made using giygas’ power he’d captured long ago.

and.... that’s about as far as we got. we stopped right when everyone entered moonside and never returned to the roleplay.

if you have any further questions or want specifications for stuff, just ask? i’m happy to talk about it, haha. i hope at least most things made sense.

[devinfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i also write parker ( @prkrfm​​ ) which is the best place to contact me for plotting!

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute.

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he has one sibling, a younger sister.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed.

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since.

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchman and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck.

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just…doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled…he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway.

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm.

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[kncklheads]

uwu just a lil Luke drabble @snw-cnvs

Luke can’t remember exactly how old he was, maybe six, give or take a year or two, but he remembers the moment. It’s deeply ingrained in his mind as his first real memory, first real experience with things like That. He remembers how back then, seeing That kind of stuff on tv and the like was less common. So one night while sitting around the tv with his family, watching whatever program happened to be on, when a scene where two people, two Men started kissing began to play, Luke was quite surprised. He remembers being confused. Innocently so. There was no malice, no prejudice built up yet, just regular old childlike wonder. Two men can kiss? Who knew? But other than that he didn’t give it much thought. Though he remembers the way his mother and father seemed to shift uncomfortably, how quickly his father changed the channel, muttering about how rubbish the show was, and how when he complained because he’d been watching it, how his mother had scolded him a little too harshly than he thought necessary. 

He remembers when he was not much older, how he used to like to draw. He doesn’t anymore. But he does recalls many days spent inside doodling away. At first it was praised, his mother proudly hanging his “artworks” on the fridge in the kitchen for all to see. He always felt so happy when she did that. Because even back then all he wanted was to make her proud. But he remembers how that began to stop, less and less would they go up onto the fridge until they stopped all together. He remembers how it turned into a sigh, into a “ I wish you would stop spending all your time on these silly things, it’s such a nice day outside. You should be out there, kicking a ball around.” He remembers drawing one time in class, and the boy that came up to him and told him with a snicker “That’s Gay.” He’d looked up, taking no offense, not knowing, he’d been confused, “Gay? What’s gay?” He’d asked, because of course there was no talk of such things in his home. He remembers the boy explained it, and he remembers soon after he gave up drawing. 

Luke remembers bringing it up to his parents a day or so later. Casually remarking about the boy who’d called him Gay, still not feeling much offense by it. But his parents on the other hand--- a gasp from his mother, a stern frown from him father. Questions that followed, “Why? What would make him say that? What were you doing?” He was surprised by how serious they had taken it. He wondered if he should have taken it more seriously in the moment. He remembers his father, consoling him, actually consoling him. Well in his way anyway. A hand on his shoulder, telling him it’s okay, because they know it’s not true or anything. How next time he needs to stand up for himself. Because it’s not right to let people say mean things to you. His mother interjecting not to start a fight of course, but to stand up for yourself no less. Luke nodded along, now thinking this Gay thing must be pretty bad after all. 

Luke remembers how that became such a thing thereafter. Even for him. He did it just as much as everyone else. “That’s so gay” Everything bad, everything dumb, everything gross, was Gay. And they’d all laugh about it. And boy would they get defensive about it too, anytime the comment was directed at them. Luke did the same. Because his parents told him to, and because everyone else reacted that way. So this Gay thing must be pretty bad. By now he had a vague concept of what it was. Guys kissing. Guys in a relationship. Just like men and women only not women. But even then, calling something Gay was more synonym for bad, or gross, and stuff, and less about the actual definition of the word. Though, this only continued for a few years. And then the trend was over. People forgot about it, or people learned and knew better. Luke leaning more towards the latter, truthfully. A little older, a little wiser he felt kind of bad for using it like that for so many years. Not that he really thought about it much. 

He remembers one night, having dinner with his family as usual, when his mother spoke up. “Oh dear, have you heard? The Turner’s boy,” And then her voice was hushed, like she didn’t want people to overhear, to somehow hear through the walls of the house “He’s one of those... he’s Gay.” And there was, of course, a certain amount of horror to her voice, but also an certain amount of excitement, because his mother always liked to gossip, and she loved reporting it all back to his father. His father barely looked like he was even paying attention, until she said that though, then he sure was. He asked a few more questions, how did she know, what did the family say, those kinds of this. “Oh poor Darcy,” His mother said, a hand to her heart and a genuine look of sympathy on her face, “She must be so devastated. He’s her only son you know. He’s all she’s got and now hes--” She shook her head, sighing, “I mean could you imagine?? If our Luke-- if he--” And she couldn’t even finish the sentence, but Luke knew what she was going to say. But Luke wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was occupied with thoughts of Davy. Davy Turner. 

They weren’t the best of friends mind you. He was just in the neighborhood, and they hung out. They used to be a bit closer when they were a little younger. But friendships were fickle around their age, every week you had a new designated “Best Friend”. But they did spend time together. Luke had liked him honestly. His mother gasped, and it brought his attention back to them, and suddenly eyes were on him. “Come to think of it, you were friends with that boy weren’t you? You even stayed at his house a few times. Oh, Luke darling, he didn’t do anything did he? You know you can tell us.” 

He thought back to one night, in one of their being “Best Friends” weeks. They shared a bed because there wasn’t another one, and there was nothing wrong with that. It was big enough for the two of them anyway. He remembers when they were sent to bed, and it was lights off, but of course they stayed up talking for a while. He remembers Davy holding his hand, and Luke hadn’t really thought anything of it. He remembers Davy smiling, big and wide, and so happy, he remembers how infectious it was, how it made even him smile. He remembers Davy saying, just before they finally went to bed “I really like you Luke, it’s always fun when you stay over.” It was innocent, and at the time it was nice. Who wouldn’t want to be liked after all? Luke had even said “I like you too.” Though even then he didn’t think he meant it as much as Davy did. 

“No.” He said, shaking his head and putting that moment out of his mind. “ He never did anything.” He always seemed so normal. He was just like all of Luke’s other friends. He liked all the same things they did. He played with them all. Luke never could have guessed it. 

After that, Luke remembers that he didn’t play with Davy Turner anymore, no one really did. He wouldn’t be allowed to, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to anyway. 

Years past and Luke was in high school. There were more incidences like those of course, little things here and there, but those were ones that always stood out to Luke.

Luke remembers in school, there were always rumors, this and that, about this person and that person. Never confirmed, so they all passed eventually. But that didn’t mean to subject of the rumors didn’t suffer while they were happening, and even after honestly. That was something Luke didn’t participate in. Not that he stopped it either. He didn’t see that big an issue really. Who cares if someone was Gay? As long as they kept it to themselves it didn’t really impact his life. But most of his friends weren’t the same. Most of the people in school weren’t the same. They all seemed to take personal offense to it. So there was a lot of bullying. Luke tried to look the other way. 

Until one time during high school. He might have been seventeen or so. And there was another rumor. Only this time it was confirmed. Almost proudly so. Which-- was just-- beyond Luke. It genuinely shocked him. How could someone just come out and say that?? Didn’t he know what would happen afterwards? How people would react? And boy did they. It was the worst bullying Luke had seen thus far. And it was relentless. Even when he wasn’t around, Paul, that was his name, people talked, harsh brutal talk that almost made Luke cringe. But he didn’t of course. He just laughed along, however forced. Sometimes, rarely, if it got too bad he’d say something, tell them to cut it out. Maybe throw in a “Why do you care so much? You Gay too or something?” To tease. Which was always met with the biggest, grandest denials. 

But there was one day in particular. Luke had come late to school, he can’t really remember why, doctors appointment or something. He’d stopped at the bathrooms before going to class, not trying to waste a little more time, certainly not, Luke was totally studious and would never. He walked in and heard someone coughing. At first he didn’t think anything of it. Until the coughing turned into more coughing, and groaning, and all in all sounding like someone having a very bad time. He hesitated, but he knocked on the stall, thinking it was closed until it swung open to reveal Paul. Poor, poor Paul. With the worst beating Luke had ever seen him cop. He actually gasped, he actually flinched back. That’s how bad it was. Paul was leaning against the toilet for support, just to sit up, bloodied and bruised. And Paul looked none too pleased to see Luke. 

And honestly. If he’s being really really completely totally honest... part of him wanted to turn around and leave Paul there. It wasn’t his business. Paul wasn’t asking for help. So he could have. But he didn’t. And that’s what counts, right? He hopes so. That’s what makes him feel better whenever he thinks about it, and thinks about that moment where he could have left him, where he almost left him, but didn’t. 

“Holy shit, Paul--- I- what happened?? Who did this to you??” He could already guess though. “Who the fuck do you think?” Paul snapped back, proud as ever, despite the grimace on his face and the obvious pain he was in, “Your best friends, that’s who. What, sorry you missed out on the fun or something? Come back to get your piece of the action too?” Luke couldn’t tell you how bad that made him feel, deep down, that someone would seriously expect him to do something like this, to someone like him, because of who he hung out with. He found he couldn’t really reply though. I mean what could he even say? No, of course not, I’m not like them. I don’t bully people. I just watch, and laugh, and let it happen? Instead he opted to crouch down next to him, sympathy written into his features, shaking his head a little. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Paul... This is-- this is fucked up.” He apologized on behalf of HIS friends. Because even though he wasn’t apart of it he still felt somewhat responsible. And so he should. “Let me help you. I’ll take you to the nurses office. You can’t-- you needa get help.”

And Luke wasn’t taking no for an answer. This was the bloody least he could do. He felt like he had to, as if it would somehow make amends, or at least partly so. Despite the initial protests, Luke got him up, an arm over his shoulder to help him stand and walk. It was a lot of groaning and grunting, but eventually he got him there. And alas the nurse was not there. So of course Luke couldn’t leave him. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t an expert, but playing all kinds of sports his whole life, he’d come across his fair share of injuries. So he could at least get the job started, he could at least do something. 

He can’t really remember how long they spent together that day. It probably wasn’t even that long. But they talked for a while, and he was actually a pretty cool guy. Luke hadn’t really ever spoken to him before. Well, he kind of actively avoided him to be honest. But now it almost felt like he was missing out. Paul was funny. Luke thought he actually would have made a good friend. If things were different. And Paul seemed to have similar sentiments. Eventually. It took a little while for him to warm up to Luke, all things considered.

“You know, I‘m not actually even fucking gay,” Paul at said at one point. And Luke remembers this so clearly, so vividly, because it really changed thing. Like it really really changed things.  “What ? But I thought-- you’ve never denied it... I’ve heard you openly tell people and stuff?” “Yeah, I do, but I’m not gay, man. I’m bi.” “You’re what?” “Bi. Bisexual. Y’know? I like both. Guys and girls. I guess... think of it as half gay if that’s easier for your neanderthal, jock-y brain to understand.” “That’s a thing?? You can like both???” Because Luke had genuinely never known. He’d never heard of it before. It was also so black and white. It was always, Gay or not gay. Wrong, or right. But this was one hell of a grey area and it changed everything. 

Eventually the nurse came back and the conversations stopped and Luke left. And he’d figured that was the end of it. 

But it wasn’t unfortunately. 

It was maybe a week later, or maybe a little less. But Paul was back at school, after a few days off. And before class started he came over to Luke while he was at his locker. He smiled, and greeted him. But Luke-- well... he greeted him back, however stiffly, however uncomfortably, because Luke was raised polite like that. He can’t really remember what exactly Paul was even saying. He thinks he was too panicked to pay full attention. Because behind Paul, walking down the hallway, were his friends. They hand’t seen him yet, hadn’t seen Paul, but they would. Luke thinks Paul was saying thank you actually, saying thanks for helping him out, and that maybe he’d judged him too quickly, maybe he was a good guy after all. But he fucking wasn’t. Because he wasn’t fully listening, and all he could think about was how he wanted Paul to leave, all he could think about was what his friends would say, what they would think. And then they saw him. And the looks on their faces, the utter confusion, some even bordering on disgust. 

“Luke?” Paul asked, when it was clear he wasn’t really listening. “I... uh... I gotta go. Sorry.” He said, quickly shutting his locker and jogging over to his friends, who were all giving him suspicious looks, looking over at Paul too.  “What’re you doing talking the the Fag??” They asked, and Luke had laughed it off, dismissed it, lied, said Paul came up to him and he has no idea why. In his desperation to clear his own name he even said, “Who knows, maybe he’s into me or something?” And laughed at how gross, disgusting, that would be.  “Oh don’t worry. You’re not my type.” He heard from over his shoulder, from Paul, standing right behind him, having heard him laughing and making fun of him. And boy did he look unimpressed. He didn’t say anything else before he walked off. He didn’t need to. All Luke’s friends were laughing, elbowing Luke and joking around. And Luke tried to laugh along, but honestly he just felt shitty. Because he was shitty. He was a shitty person and Paul was probably right about his first impression of him. He just didn’t know what else to do though. Not that it really excused it. 

Luke thought about it more than he’d care to admit. He could never look Paul in the eyes again, not that he really did in the first place. Whenever he saw him he just felt guilty, he felt shitty. 

But there was one more time they interacted, before Paul moved schools and Luke never heard from or of him again. Aside from that time he found him on facebook years later and debated trying to friend him or not, for like two whole hours. He ultimately decided not to. 

It was one day, a while later. And he was walking to class as usual with a few of his friends, talking about god knows what.  “Oh shit, what’s Tim doing?” One of them said, in amusement, laugh in his tone.  And when Luke looked down the hall to see, he saw Tim, and he saw Paul, and he saw Tim shoving Paul roughly against the locker, he saw Paul’s books already scattered, dropped on the ground. He saw people watching and whispering, some laughing and grinning, and he saw no one helping. His friends were some of the ones laughing, approaching to get a better view. Luke moved along with them wordlessly, his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t want to see this. He didn’t want to know about. It was easy to ignore when he was just hearing stories, but when it was happening right in front of him, how could he possibly ignore that? 

Well he tried to. But when he saw Tim raise his fist, ready to give Paul another beating, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. He really fucking tried to but he couldn’t. Before he even knew he was doing it was was shoving Tim to the ground, yelling at him to fuck off. Everyone was surprised, Luke was fucking surprised, breathing heavily, standing in front of Paul like he was guarding him or something. 

It... well, it escalated from there. And instead of Paul copping a beating, Tim and Luke shared one between them. Until a teacher, a couple actually, came by and broke up the fight. But each of them managed to get a few good hits in. They were suspended, obviously. Luke’s first time. Not Tim’s. And Luke was not looking forward to his parents finding out, rightfully so. 

They wanted to know how it happened, Tim was his friend after all. His mother seemed more concerned, his father muttering something about boys being boys. Luke didn’t want to tell them. He really didn’t want to tell them. But his mother wouldn’t let it go. So he told them he was standing up for someone. Who? They’d asked. Paul. Paul who? Luke didn’t have any friends called Paul, so who was he? Why did he need Luke to stand up for him?

They were both silent for what felt like the longest, most painful time after Luke finally told them exactly who Paul was. Looking between each other, then back at Luke. He didn’t look back at either of them. And it was only now that his father seemed to have a problem with the fight. Why did Luke care after all? Who was Paul to him? What, was he his boyfriend or something??  “Of course not.” Luke had snapped back. He’d tried to explain that he just didn’t think it was right. He didn’t think it was okay to beat on someone just because they happened to like guys. His father didn’t agree, going on a big long, shouted rant about how They deserved it, how if They were going to act that way, then they deserved what was coming to them. How he’d never allow one of Them in his house and on and on and on. His mother calmed him down eventually, consoling him, telling him Luke wasn’t like that, he was just a boy with a big heart who didn’t know any better. His father left in a huff shortly after. That was when his mother sat down next to him, all the care in the world in her eyes, a hand reaching out to gently brush over the bruise on Luke’s cheek.  “My poor boy.” She’d said, and she meant it, she cared about Luke, she really did, she loved him so much. But,  “I know you want to help, darling... But.. sometimes it’s better to not get involved. It’s better to.. leave Those People alone. They’re not like you, They made their choice. It’s not your fault if something happens to Them for it. And it’s not your responsibility to help Them.”

Luke didn’t agree, he still didn’t really agree. But he nodded along with it. Just to get it over with honestly. And that was the last they ever spoke of it. It was never brought up again, never discussed. It was swept under the rug and forgotten. By them at least. 

But Luke remembers it very clearly. 

[roseisread]

My Year in Movies: Favorite Non-2018 Feature Films (Part 1)

I watched a LOT of movies this year. At last count, I had logged 229 features and 126 shorts; and that doesn’t count rewatches--only movies that were new to me.

I set a few challenges for myself as well this year. The first one was to watch at least one non-English language/US release per week--this exposed me to so much world cinema and some really amazing filmmakers. Anyone who avoids foreign films because “I don’t like subtitles” is really missing out, and I found myself craving these narratives from voices I don’t ordinarily get exposed to in my everyday life. 

Other personal challenges: Watching as many horror movies as possible in October (with horror defined pretty loosely so I could include entries from silent era and onward, as well as some comedy cult classics that have horror/thriller elements); participating in Noirvember (in addition to attending Noir City in Chicago); crossing off some major blindspots from my list (such as Bicycle Thieves, The Producers, Lethal Weapon, A Few Good Men, Grease, Home Alone 2, Brazil, and Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom); and trying to watch movies and short films from every decade that motion pictures have existed.

In 2019, I hope to do similar personal challenges with a focus on movies made by women, LGBTQ+, and people of color, in addition to filling in the gaps of my classical/canonical movie knowledge. 

OK, so that’s enough preamble. Let’s get to the list! For this list, I’m excluding movies that were released in 2018--that’s coming but this is for movies released before that. 

50. Linda Linda Linda (2005, directed by Nobuhiro Yamashita, country of origin: Japan)

High school girls recruit the Korean exchange student (Doona Bae, of Cloud Atlas and Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance) to join their rock band a few days before the school talent show. This is just a feel good film, recommended if you enjoyed the likes of Sing Street, We Are The Best!, and The Runaways. Unfortunately, it’s out of print in physical form; but last I checked someone had uploaded it to YouTube so you might want to get on that before it’s removed. You can watch the trailer here.

49. The Blue Dahlia (1946, directed by George Marshall, country of origin: US)

This film noir stars Veronica Lake and Alan Ladd, and like any good noir, it deals with dark subjects including murder, blackmail, political corruption, and PTSD. It’s been on my watchlist for a long time, and thanks to Noir City Chicago, I got to see it on the big screen at the Music Box Theatre. For small screen viewing, you can catch up with it via rental on Vudu, Amazon, iTunes... the usual suspects. 

48. Siren of the Tropics (1927, directed by Mario Nalpas and Henri Etievant, country of origin: France)

My dearly departed Filmstruck had a spotlight on the films of Josephine Baker, and this was among them. I fell in love instantly with the lively, beautiful Baker, here playing a woman named Papitou who deals with some super scummy dudes but manages to be herself in the face of all that nonsense. Silent films can sometimes be tougher to engage with for modern audiences, but this one flies by and contains some unexpectedly racy sequences for the time. Its racial politics don’t meet today’s cultural standards, but considering Baker’s parents were former slaves and their daughter went on to become the first woman of color to star in a major motion picture, this is still a landmark film worthy of our consideration. She broke down many barriers and contributed a great deal to both the entertainment world and the Civil Rights movement, and this serves as a nice entry point into her career. It’s available on DVD through Kino Lorber, and hopefully one day soon it’ll pop up on another streaming service that carries on the Filmstruck legacy.

47. I Don’t Feel At Home in This World Anymore (2017, directed by Macon Blair, country of origin: US)

Here’s a film that goes to some unexpected places. I had no idea what to expect from Macon Blair, who frequently appears in the movies of Jeremy Saulnier; but in his debut feature for Netflix, he pulled out all the stops. Hilarious, violent, and intense, with memorable performances from stars Melanie Lynskey and Elijah Wood, this is a movie about getting in over your head and just going for it anyway. I don’t want to tell you about the plot because it’s best discovered through watching--just go to your nearest device and add it to your Netflix queue. 

46. Song of the Sea (2014, directed by Tomm Moore, country of origin: Ireland)

Absolutely gorgeous animation from the team that previously brought us The Secret of Kells, and a touching story that combines family and mythology. I adored this one. Watch it on Netflix or rent on the usual streaming sources--for a preview, click here. 

45. Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942, directed by Michael Curtiz, country of origin: US)

I always watch Independence Day on the Fourth of July; but in 2018, I decided to mix it up and cross this patriotic musical off the watchlist. I’d seen James Cagney’s gangster movies like White Heat and The Public Enemy, but seeing him sing and dance was a whole new joyous discovery. This movie is entertaining, funny, touching, and full of iconic sequences that other films would go on to borrow from. I absolutely loved it. Pretty sure I saw this on Filmstruck originally, but since that’s no longer possible you should be able to find it at your local public library or you can rent it for a couple bucks on Amazon, YouTube, iTunes, and the like. 

44. The Man Who Cheated Himself (1950, directed by Felix Feist, country of origin: US)

This tightly wound noir thriller pits brother against brother against the backdrop of 1950s San Francisco. Lee Cobb plays an aging bachelor and an accomplished police detective who falls for the wrong dame. His younger brother, played by John Dall (Gun Crazy, Rope), has just joined the police force and idolizes his older brother. Trouble strikes when the dame murders her no good husband and needs help from Cobb to cover it up. Naturally, Dall gets assigned to the case and as he begins to piece together the clues, he doesn’t like where they’re leading him. The climactic sequence is one of my favorite endings to a noir film, and I’ve seen a lot of them. Watch it for free if you have Amazon Prime; otherwise, there are a few versions uploaded to YouTube of varying quality or you could wait for it to pop up on TCM. 

43. Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003, directed by Thom Andersen, country of origin: US)

This documentary edits together clips from movies of every era that were filmed or set in Los Angeles, and explains through voiceover narration the significance of each location and the history of the motion pictures in LA. That’s it--very simple concept but also fascinating. I split this up over a couple nights because it’s pretty long, but if you’re a film fan or a Los Angeles native, this is well worth your time. The voiceover is kind of hilariously flat in its delivery--kind of a Steven Wright sound actually--but that sort of adds to the charm for me. Get a taste by watching the trailer, and then you can rent it on YouTube for $1.99.

42. A Simple Plan (1998, directed by Sam Raimi, country of origin: US)

It’s been almost two years since we lost Bill Paxton; I don’t know about you but I don’t think any other actor can really fill those shoes. This year I caught up with three films that showcased his talent: A Simple Plan, One False Move, and Frailty. He plays very different characters in each one but in many ways they all start off with a similar premise: Ordinary guy dreams of becoming more. What that “more” is for each character is what sets each film and performance apart, but Paxton provided a great canvas to paint these unique characters onto. He inhabited the ordinary man better than just about anyone. 

In this film, which I watched during Noirvember, Paxton plays Hank, a college-educated guy working a blue collar job in a small town, trying to make a better life for himself and his family. He’d like to get away from those small town roots, but his socially awkward brother Jacob (Billy Bob Thornton) relies on him. Unfortunately, Jacob is often accompanied by the hard-drinking loose canon Lou (Brent Briscoe). When the unlikely trio discover a crashed plane in the woods containing a suitcase full of cash, they each have ideas for how to handle the situation. Of course things escalate from there, and the way the movie explores human nature and family ties set this story apart. Available for online rental on the usual platforms.

41. The Iron Giant (1999, directed by Brad Bird, country of origin: US)

Given my obsession with Vin Diesel in the early 2000s, it’s pretty shocking I never saw this movie til now--sure, he and his glorious muscles don’t appear on screen, but he does provide the voice of the title character after all. When the Iron Giant made a controversial cameo in this year’s film adaptation of Ready Player One, I decided it was time I saw the source material for myself. 

This gorgeously animated fable unfolds during the Cold War era, and features an ET-inspired story arc of a young boy befriending an unlikely being that the government is looking for. If you’ve never seen it, this is definitely a must-watch. Currently available on Netflix, but rentable on other platforms too.

40. The Unsuspected (1947, directed by Michael Curtiz, country of origin: US)

I adore Claude Rains, star of this film and supporting actor in Curtiz’s more famous work, Casablanca. Here, he plays the host and narrator of a popular radio show that revolves around tales of murder--basically the Law and Order: SVU of its day. We learn early on that he sometimes draws inspiration for his broadcasts from real life criminals. When people in his own life start dropping dead, the plot thickens and he finds himself at the center of the action. A very suspenseful and well-plotted film noir, which is available from the Warner Archive collection on DVD. I got to see it at Noir City Chicago, and loved every second of it. 

That’s all for this entry--stay tuned for part two of this list, posting soon! 

[howtobangyourmonster]

Boris, Part 1

Since people seem to like Boris and there have been requests for a story, here it is! A bit holiday-flavored and late, but I hope you like it anyway. It’s just a big pile of awkward adorkable fluff.

Part 2(nsfw)

There's this great coffee shop in my neighborhood. It's trendy and bit hipster-ish, really popular with the college crowd. I don't actually like coffee, but I brave the early morning pre-lecture rush because they make the most amazing London Fog in the city.

I like Thursdays the best because that's when their cutest barista has the morning shift. I extra don't mind getting up early for my morning cuppa on Thursdays. I'm not the only one with that opinion either, because I swear there's a good fifty per-cent more customers on Thursday mornings than the rest of the week.

This Thursday it was pouring buckets outside, and I was grateful to duck into the cafe and warm up a bit. I guess the rain was dissuading some of the regulars because the line was shorter than I'd expected. Boris, the cute barista, smiles as I approach the counter. I always wonder how he knows it's me, he doesn't have eyes(at least not that I can discern). Maybe it's scent? Oh, god, I hope not, sometimes I don't have time to shower before I come in...

“Hey, Boris!”

“Good morning! Pretty bad out there today, huh?”

“Ugh, yeah, it's like monsoon season or something.”

“Your usual?”

“Yep! Thanks.” I swipe my card and take my receipt. Sometimes I try flirty banter with him, but I'm so bad at it and I think he must cringe at my sad attempts. He's always very gracious about it and laughs at my terrible puns.

I thumb idly through my instagram while I wait. He says my name with a smile, and our fingers brush as he hands me my cup. It might sound depressing, but our brief interaction is kinda the highlight of my week. I glance down at my cup and see the little doodle of a smiling raincloud he's drawn there instead of writing my name. It's different each week. I don't keep them, I'm not that far-gone, but I do have a collection of snaps of all the doodles that I like to look through when I'm having a hard time.

I sip my London Fog in my depressing cubicle at my soul-crushing job as a glorified code monkey. The happy little rain cloud on the cup cheers me up enough that I manage to slog through the day. Maybe I'll draw him something, Christmas is coming up, I could make him a card. I'm certainly not doing much with my MFA in this hellhole.

When I get back to my apartment, I pull out my pencils and gouache supplies and start sketching.

It's almost Christmas. I haven't had as much time to work on Boris's card as I'd like. Dad's getting worse and I've been spending a lot of time helping Mom out taking care of him. I can tell we're getting close to the end, and so can she. Most of the time, she's barely keeping it together. I'm trying to be strong, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I cried myself to sleep more often than not.

The coffee shop is packed, people filling the sofas and chairs and booths, the snow outside painting the city white and making for a picture-perfect holiday scene. I get in line and check my email while I wait. When it's my turn, I put my phone away and look up, and immediately have to suppress the giggle threatening to spill out.

Boris is wearing a red santa hat with a little bell on the end, and it makes him look so cute that I nearly implode. The red of the hat brings out the pinker tones of his violet skin. He's got a holiday sweater on, too, completing the look. His shoulder spikes poke through the knit fabric.

“You're looking very festive today!”

“Yeah, 'tis the season, and all. Hey, I'm sorry, but I ran out of earl grey earlier, I sent Sasha out to get more, but...”

My heart half-sank. “Oh, that's okay, um, I can just have...”

“Actually,” he interrupted, “I've been wanting to try something, if you're up for it. You kinda inspired me.”

I'm a bit taken aback by that. I inspired him? I have to tell inner-teenage-me to calm down. “Uh, I'm game!”

“Great.” Boris grinned, showing off his tusks and sharp teeth. “I picked up this orange gingerbread chai at the import market this weekend, and it immediately made me think of you.”

He turned and busied himself with the tea, glancing over and smiling at me every so often. Truth be told, my heart was pounding and I felt like I was in tenth grade again and Jake LeSalle noticed me. Boris picks up his sharpie and scribbles on the side of the cup. He hands me the drink and I don't know if it's my mind playing tricks on me, or if his fingers linger a little longer against mine as I take it from him.

“Uh, wow, it smells great!” I take a sip. “Mmmm, oh, wow, that's really good. This definitely needs to go on the menu board.”

“Yeah?” his grin widens. “Ah, I'm so glad you like it!”

“Yeah, totally, I love yo-this, I love this, that you made, I love that you made this for me.” Oh, for fucking sake...

Boris half-smiles and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Ha, yeah, you're welcome, I guess...well, have a good day!”

Oh god, he's embarrassed for me. That was so bad. I can never come back here. “Thanks,” I reply, “you too!”

Turning to hide my shame, I glance down at the coffee cup in my hand. Instead of the usual adorable doodle, it's a phone number. A phone number, and a little heart. Oh...

My face is on fire and I glance back up, but Boris is talking to the next customer and I can't catch his attention. Instead I push back through the morning crowd and toward the door. I need some air, even cold snowy air.

It takes me all week to work up the nerve to call him. And of course he doesn't answer and I get his voicemail instead. I panic and hang up. Then call back.

“Hey, sorry, it was me earlier, the hang-up message. Sorry. I already said that. Sorry I didn't call sooner, god I'm apologizing a lot. Um, I guess you're busy, so...call me back when you can? Okay, uh, bye.”

I hang up, groan, and bury my face in my hands lest the objects in my apartment witness my shame. I jump as my phone suddenly rings. “Hello?”

“Hey, hi, it's Boris.”

“Oh, uh, hi!”

“Hi.”

Awkward pause. Why isn't he saying anything? “So...”

“Uh,” I hear him clear his throat. “So, I was wondering if you'd maybe like go ice skating with me Saturday? At the Pavilion?”

“Yeah, yes, I'd love that!” Stop saying 'love' so much!

“Great! Want to meet me at the shop, say 7? We can walk together?”

“That sounds perfect.” I try to keep the elation in my voice in check. “I'll see you then.”

“See you then.” I can hear the smile in his voice, though.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hang up, and sit for a moment, the blood rushing in my ears. I have a date. I have a date with Boris. I have a totally romantic ice skating date with Boris the hot barista. Not even my shit job can kill my buzz. I realize I still haven't finished his card, and pull out my paints. It's pretty simple, just a study of the coffee shop from the outside, in the snow, though a violet figure can be glimpsed through the window. I just hope he doesn't think it's childish, a homemade card.

Boris is waiting outside the shop for me when I walk up. He has two cups in his clawed hands, steam rising from them. He has a wool peacoat on over his usual sweater and jeans, though this one seems to have been made for him. His shoulder spikes don't poke through. Boris hands me one of the cups.

“I know you don't like coffee, but how about hot chocolate?” He smiles at me over the thick scarf wrapped around his neck.

“I love hot chocolate! Thank you.” I smile back at him as I take the cup. “Shall we?”

We start slowly strolling along the sidewalk, the crunch of snow under our feet. The trees that line the street are decked out in string lights and everything feels magical. I love this time of year.

“I've been wanting to ask you out for a long time, you know.” Boris is looking straight ahead, but he has a little smirk on his face.

“Yeah? What stopped you?” I have to admit, I am curious.

“To be honest, I wasn't sure if you were into me or not. I mean, we flirt and I draw pictures on your cup, but I couldn't tell if we were just friendly flirting or flirting flirting, you know?”

“Wait, don't you draw pictures on everyone's cups? I just thought that was something you did?”

“No,” Boris looks down at me, his expression warm and affectionate. “Just for you.”

He reaches over and takes my hand in his, long claws resting lightly against the back of my hand. I swallow, thickly.

“Oh.” is all I can manage.

We walk in silence for a ways after that, my hand in his. His skin isn't rough, but it is firmer than mine, and surprisingly warm. The Pavilion comes into view ahead of us, lights and festive garlands all over it, the sound of the carousel music wafting out at us.

Inside, there is a modest ice rink next to the antique wooden carousel. I haven't been ice skating since I was a kid, and I tell him so.

“Neither have I, actually. It's okay, we can support each other.”

Boris and I pick up our skates from the counter and lace in. He's already steadier on his feet than I am, but we're both pretty slow and careful as we step onto the ice. We sort of shuffle along slowly, me clinging to his side like a barnacle. It's pretty nice, almost like cuddling.

After about an hour of clinging to each other and falling down, repeatedly, we decide our egos and knees are bruised enough. We grab some food at one of the food trucks outside the Pavilion and settle onto one of the benches near the carousel.

We chat over steaming bowls of rice and bulgogi and I learn he has an older sister and a younger brother, but both his parents have passed. I talk a bit about my dad, but I don't go into details, too heavy for a first date. Boris is a really good listener. We discover we share a love of terrible horror movies.

“Yeah, my great-uncle actually played the monster in that one.”

“You're kidding!” I gasp. “You're related to Chneya Szim?! I looooove 'Horror From The Deep'!”

“Ha, he'd have loved to hear that, he was such a ham. That whole side of my family was big in the industry back in the '50s.” Boris grins, fork in hand. I'm always amazed at how expressive his face is, even without eyebrows or eyes. The folds on the upper half of his face are much more flexible and pliant than they seem at first glance.

“How'd your family get involved in that?”

“Well, my great-great-grandparents were first-generation extradimensionals, back when the tears were uncontrolled, they just kinda fell through. My great-great-grandpa was working construction on a backlot when some character actor quit and they needed someone fast. The director saw him, and let's be honest, we're waaaay scarier than the foam and rubber suits you humans were wearing back then in the movies.” Boris looks a little sad. “He didn't really like playing monsters in movies, I guess back in our dimension he was some kind of professor, but work was hard to find and he had kids by that point, you know?”

“I'm sorry.” I have a sharp stab of guilt about my earlier enthusiasm for basically ex-ploitation flicks.

“Hey, it was the '50s, right? Anyway, it kind of became a family business, and my great-uncle really took to it well. Thus spawning the 'Horrors' franchise.” He grimaces. “The whole disco-phase in the '70s embarrassed the hell out him, though.”

“What disco-phase? Everyone knows 'Return to the Deep' was the last 'Horrors' film.” I reply, gamely.

“Oh, of course! I'm mistaken.” he laughs. “What about you? Other than your latte order and your penchant for horror movies, I don't actually know a whole lot about you.”

“Uh, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.” His face is so open and earnest. I swallow my discomfort.

“Well, I got my MFA at XSU a few years ago, and I do web design for some local corporations, I work mainly at an office share downtown, but I do some stuff from home. It's kind of soul-killing, to be honest. When I graduated, I thought I was gonna take over the world, you know, and instead I'm grinding away at a 9-to-5 in a cubicle, well, more like 7-to-6.”

“You don't do any of your own stuff anymore?” Boris asks.

“I do a little, when I have time, but between work and helping out at home, I mean at my folks' place, there's not a lot of energy left over for my own art. I do miss it though, creating something just for the joy of it.” I dig around in my purse. “Actually, the last thing I made of my own is for you.”

I hand him the card in it's red envelope. He turns it over slowly, examining it in some way I can't understand. “This is for me?”

“Yeah, I hope you like it.” I bite my lip, very nervous.

Boris slices the envelope open with one claw and pulls out the card. On the front is my watercolor of the coffee shop. After a moment, he opens the card and appears to be reading, his brows coming together. I had tried to keep my message simple and not too romantic, in case the date went badly.

“This is...beautiful. Thank you.” he looks back up at me. “You painted this?”

“Yeah, it was nice to flex my watercolor muscles. I'm glad you like it.”

“It's really good. Why don't you show your work in galleries? There's that art walk every first Friday of the month, we always hang up local artists' work in the shop.”

“The gallery scene in this city is ridiculously hard to break into, unless you know someone or you get 'discovered' I guess.”

“You should let me hang some of your work up in the shop, there's a gallery guy who comes in all the time. I'm sure he'd love your stuff.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “That's really sweet, but I don't want to get you in trouble with your boss...”

“I am the boss.” Boris states, flatly.

I blink. “What?”

“I own the shop. It's mine. I live in the apartment above it.”

“Oh, I didn't, I feel silly for assuming you just worked there, now.” I reply. I guess I never thought about how old he was, extradimensionals don't really visibly age, I assumed he was close to my own age and just working in the coffee shop. “How old are you? Just, I realized I don't actually know, and-”

“And you suddenly worry you're out with a 50-year-old guy?” he jokes.

“Not that that's bad, or anything!” I try to recover, in case he really is 50.

“I'm 32.” he responds. Oh, well then.

“And you own your own business, nice.”

“Don't be too impressed, I inherited it from my folks. Tycha, my sister, wasn't interested in running the shop, and Zloan went into film like Dad's side of the family. Except he's directing instead of acting. So it's me.”

“Do you like running the shop?” I ask.

“I do. I really do. I love the sense of community. I grew up here, you know, and while I've traveled my fair share, I always knew I was going to come back here to stay.”

“Well, I'm glad for that, you make the best London Fog in the city.”

“Ha, so I've been told.”

Our walk back to the shop is easy and slow, our conversation drifting back to horror movies, then to horror novels, books in general, the writing-a-novel-at-the-coffee-shop trope, and some amusing stories about his regulars. He walks me the extra distance to my place, after asking if it's okay. Apparently he had me meet him at the coffee shop in case I didn't want him to know where I lived, in case the date went poorly. Turns out we're both pragmatic realists. Or pessimists. Whichever. I do not mind him knowing where I live.

“I had a really great time tonight, thanks for inviting me out.” I say as we pause at my door.

“I had a really great time, too. I'm really glad you called.” he smiles down at me, hands in his coat pockets, as he leans against the wall. “Eventually.”

He's teasing me. I deserve it.

“Yeah, well, I had to work up the nerve, you're intimidatingly handsome.” I toss back.

He ducks his head down and chuckles. “Well, I'm glad you think so. Can I see you again?”

“Yes, absolutely. If you want, we can stay in and watch terrible horror movies, order some delivery?”

He straightens up and gives me a satisfied half-smile. “It's a date. Can I kiss you goodnight?”

“Absolutely.”

We both lean in to the kiss, his hand brushing my cheek as I stretch up on my tiptoes because he's just so damn tall. After a few moments I feel his tongue brush against my mouth and I part my lips slightly. Boris deepens the kiss, his tusks ghosting over my skin. I sigh into his mouth as we part.

“That was a hell of a first kiss.” he remarks, sounding a little breathless.

“I have high hopes for the second one, too.” I can't hide my smile as I open my door. “Goodnight, Boris. See you Thursday.”

“Goodnight.”