#at a speed of around 150 words per minute

[not-poignant]

How many words can you write in an hour, do you think? Inquiring minds want to know 🧐 hope u are doing alright :)

Hi anon!

I know from writer's groups etc. that I can reach about 4k words in an hour. It used to be higher.

But the reality is it just highly depends on the story and the scene I'm writing. How many words I'll write in an hour for a sex scene is very different to other scenes for example.

These days it takes me about 2-3 hours to write a 3k chapter on a good day. It takes about 3 days on a bad day, lol. Doesn't include editing / reading through, but yeah.

On the best days I can actually write 2-3 chapters in a day, but that's extremely rare.

[celiastjamesoscar]

Night Shift

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader. Sam x reporter!reader

Summary: Sam blamed you for the 2022 attacks, she blamed you for everything. But guilt drives people into blindness, and Sam eventually finds herself seeking your comfort.

AN: this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, so I apologize if at times it seems redundant. Based off of this request!

Warnings: angst, slight cursing, mentions of past drug addiction, small part of canon typical Scream violence, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of alcoholism, Tara is a little shit. Let me know if I missed anything!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 18.0K

Nothing. That’s all you could think about as you listened to the sound of Tara’s heartbeat monitor. This was your fault. You were the reason Tara was now in the hospital with multiple stab wounds and a broken leg. If only you had gotten to her house sooner, she wouldn’t be in this position. All your friends tried to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that you had no idea some dipshit in a mask was going to attack her, but you knew better.

You were only nine when it happened, but you could still feel the sharp pain of Jill Roberts’ knife plunging deep inside of your abdomen. Sometimes, you swore you could still hear her black combat boots sneaking around on the wooden floor, and the only thing that would play throughout your mind was the sweet release of not having to look over your shoulder at every sound.

The sound of Tara’s heartbeat monitor increasing in speed pulled you out of your thoughts. “Hey, Tara. It’s alright,” you whispered to the sleeping girl, but you got no response. Her heartbeat monitor began peeping so rapidly, that your own heartbeat began thumping in your ears, and it eventually blocked out Tara’s.

Your heartbeat echoed throughout your ears as it continued its rapid pace of 150 beats per minute. You had no idea why you were anxious, but then your surroundings suddenly changed. You were no longer in the monotone gray walls of a hospital, but you now found yourself in Tara’s kitchen. The smaller girl was no longer in her hospital gown; she now wore a pink long sleeve shirt and jeans, and you instantly knew where this was going.

You tried to scream, but no sound left your throat as you watched Tara answer that dreaded phone call. The pounding in your ears continued as you began to sweat and frantically tried to move, but your feet were glued to the floor; no matter how hard you tried to move, you simply could not compel your body to move. You watched as Tara fought against Ghostface, and just like every night, you watched as Ghostface plunged his knife deep into Tara’s stomach. Over and over again.

But unlike the real events that conspired, you couldn’t save Tara. In this version, you watched as Tara bled out onto the floor, her crimson red blood staining the nicely wooded flooring. Her screams were the only thing that drowned out your heartbeat, and you begged it to stop.

“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” Tara cried out in a broken voice as blood now began to seep from her mouth as she tried to crawl toward you, but Ghostface stopped her. In a single motion, he leaned down to Tara and pulled her up by her hair, and slit her throat. When he stood up, you were met with those haunting hollowed out eyes, and when you blinked, the mask was gone.

Jill Roberts stood before you with murderous eyes as she slowly started to advance toward you. You tried to walk backward, but your feet wouldn’t move. Jill was not an arms length away, and you noticed the beautiful glint of light that reflected off the blood as she brought it down in a single motion.

Before the knife could sink into your chest, you were being shaken away. “Y/N. Get up; you’re having a nightmare,” the rough voice of Sam Carpenter stated as she awoke you from your nightmare.

Your eyes instantly shot up as you leaned up from the couch, checking your surroundings. “Oh, thank you,” you weakly replied as Sam let go of your shoulders and walked away from you, not giving you a response. Sam noticed the sweat that lined your forehead and caused some of your hair to stick to your face, but she didn’t care. Why would she care about someone that ruined her life?

Technically, it wasn’t your fault, but it was easier for Sam to blame you for what happened and she liked having it that way. It was her own fucked up way of keeping you at arms length while also always keeping an eye on you.

You checked your surroundings again and you were grateful that you were in your home and not that dreaded house that Tara used to live in. You had fallen asleep at some point on the couch and you left the TV running while your homework was spread out on the coffee table in front of you. You had gained a terrible habit of staying up until ungodly hours while trying to cram in information for your exams.

You groaned while standing up from the couch and you checked the time, 11:30 pm. If Sam was still here, that meant the rest of the girls were here as well, and you dreaded the thought of being around them. That was the worst part about living with Anika; you were constantly around the people that despised you. ‘People’ as in just Sam, but you liked to make it plural for the dramatic effect.

With a sigh, you grudgingly left the living room and went into the backyard, where a fire was going with the group huddled around it while sitting on hay bales. “Good morning, Y/N,” Tara teased with a gentle smile while scooting over on her hay bale, inviting you to sit next to her. “Yeah right,” you mumbled as you sat down next to the girl, ignoring the glance Sam threw at you, “What are you guys doing out here? It’s starting to get cold.”

“We were talking shit about you, but now we can’t do that with you out here,” Mindy joked as she rested her head on Anika’s shoulder. You and Mindy had a special ‘situationship’ going on for a while, but you two ended on good terms and occasionally picked on each other. “I hope it was good then,” you replied with a smile and Mindy nodded her head.

The conversation around the fire was an ideal one as you caught up with the group about any gossip you might have missed while you were asleep. Nothing sparked your interest too much, not until Tara mentioned Sam having a boyfriend.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam dryly stated as she stared down her younger sister, “We’re just friends, that’s all.”

“You have been saying that for months, Sam! All you two do is check each other out but you never talk! You have to give this guy a chance!” Tara exclaimed and you felt an unwarranted feeling of jealousy shoot throughout your chest. “What guy are you guys talking about?” You asked, starting to get more involved with the current conversion.

“This guy that has been after Sam’s heart ever since we moved here,” Tara casually remarked as she grabbed a stick and poked around the fire; the little shit had a thing for a fire.

You could feel Sam’s eyes burning into the side of your head as you racked Tara’s words around in your head. Sure, Sam was old enough to make decisions for herself, but the thought of her actually being with someone other than you makes you sick to your stomach. And just like the masochist you were, you had to ask Sam about it. “So why don’t you talk to him?”

Sam huffed, clearly annoyed by the fact that you, of all people, would ask her about her love life. “Why? So you can go and tell Gale about it? No thanks,” she dryly stated with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey, you little shit, that wasn’t Y/N! I’ve told you that before,” Tara defended as she comfortably put a hand on your knee, “And even if she did, I support her wrongs.”

“Tara, you’re not helping,” you whispered with a small, awkward laugh. A small groan left Sam’s lips as she stood up from the fire, “I’m going inside,” she said while walking toward the door to the house.

Once she was inside, Tara broke the tension, “I’m sorry she’s like that, Y/N. She doesn’t want to accept the truth.” The comfort from Tara was nice, it actually made you feel like someone at least cared for you that had the last name of Carpenter.

“It’s okay, no need to apologize on her behalf. I get it,” you said with a weak smile as you hid your pain. It was a stupid feeling: pain. You owed Sam nothing, but you still couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt run through your body every time you saw the woman.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like fumbling an amazing woman like me?” Mindy playfully asked, her own way of trying to lighten the tense mood that had settled around the fire, “I need Anika to know how special I am.”

It was a shitty attempt, but it still put a smile on your face. “Mindy once got in a revolving door,” you said with a laugh, “she was in it for a solid 5 minutes.”

“Blasphemy!” Mindy shouted as she quickly stood up from her hay bale, “It was one minute and you didn’t help at all! And you let Tara record it!”

“Oh my god, I need to find that video,” Tara butted in as she pulled out her phone, quickly trying to find the video while Mindy tried to steal the phone from her.

It was small moments like these that you enjoyed with the group; moments were everyone was happy and they could forgot about their fucked up pasts. Those moments were rare, but you cherished them like they were your life support.

As time dragged on and the night got colder, everyone outside called it quits. Well, at least on being outside.

“Hurry up, Gizmo, I’m freezing,” Mindy joked as she walked behind Tara, almost stepping on the girl’s shoes. “Don’t call me a gremlin,” the shorter girl shot back with a glare as she approached the back door to your house, “apologize and I’ll open it.”

“Fuck you,” Mindy retorted as she made a move for the door, bud Tara was quick to react as she kicked one of Mindy’s shins.

“Apologize.”

“No.”

Several beats of silence pass by as you and Anika watch a stare down between the two friends before Mindy inevitably sighs with defeat. “Alright fine, I’m sorry I called Gizmo. You aren’t a gremlin, more like a fun sized Lord Farquaad,” Mindy said, trailing off toward the end of her sentence.

“Hey, hey! Stop it!” You exclaimed, quickly catching Tara’s fist that was inches away from connecting Mindy’s face.

You were too busy trying to keep Tara from ripping into Mindy that you didn’t notice Sam opening up the door until she spoke. “What the hell are you doing to my sister?”

The position you found yourself in was an uncomfortable one, to say the least. You were holding Tara from behind, with your arms holding the smaller girl’s ones back.

“Mind your business, Sam,” Tara stated in a strained voice, trying to get hold out of your tight hold, “this is between me and Mindy.”

Her sister’s words didn’t seem to phase Sam at all, as the older sister couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of you. The way you had your hands on her sister made her blood boil. Deep down she knew that you would never hurt Tara, but that didn’t stop the over growing feeling of protectiveness come through.

In a single motion, Sam stopped out of the house and gripped your bicep with her right left hand. When you looked down, you could see her veins in her hands as her grip tightened, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that was trying to flex as well.

“Let her go,” Sam demanded, leaving zero room for arguing. So, you shrugged your shoulders and let go, not caring to warn Sam about the can of whoopass her sister was about to unleash on Mindy.

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

“She was like a tiger! A short-legged one with asthma, but a Tiger!” Mindy cried into her phone, telling her brother about her vicious fight with Tara. Honestly, it was impressive how quickly Tara moved to latch onto Mindy, but even more impressive how surprisingly strong she was. The wounds that Mindy sustained weren’t anything terrible; a small cut on her cheek and a busted lip, but nothing was hurt more than her ego.

“You asked for it,” Anika commented, but then gave Mindy a quick kiss for the look she received. You chuckled at the small encounter as you excused yourself from Tara, who had a smug smile on her lips. She knew where you were going, and she didn’t think about warning you that Sam was also there; it was like her own way of playing matchmaker—a shitty matchmaker, but still one nonetheless.

The kitchen was a weird place you found solace in; nothing was special about it. It was where you went when you needed a step back from reality. Another odd thing: Sam also found the same comfort in the kitchen. Maybe it was the quiet nature, or the dim lights that brought comfort, or even perhaps the shitty decorations that littered the walls, but whatever it was, there was a soft comfort.

“Hey,” you said upon entering the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the countertop, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes refused to leave the floor. To anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed, but not with you, not with it involved Sam. You noticed her slightly heavy breathing and the barely visible sweat that glistened her forehead. And when her eyes finally left the floor, you could see nothing but black in her irises.

It took not even a second before Sam finally snapped out of whatever trance she had found herself in and returned to her usual self. Well, about as normal as Sam could be. She quickly wiped the sweat off her forehead and recrossed her arms as she looked at you. “What are you doing in here?” She all but demanded; her eyes seemed never to leave you as she stared you down.

The question was a weird one, as this was your home, but you just chalked it up to Sam's bizarre way of asking, ‘Why are you here with me and not my sister?’

“Hanging out in the kitchen; it’s where I belong,” you said with a smile, and to your surprise, you managed to pull a chuckle from the Latina. It was a quick laugh, but it sounded like angels were singing in your ears, and you would go through hell and back with nothing but the Hamilton soundtrack to keep you busy if it meant hearing that laugh again.

Sam smiled faintly as she spoke, “Yeah, well, I’ve tried your spaghetti before; you don’t belong anywhere near the kitchen. I’m sure they would have sent you into the army and made your husband stay at home.”

“Okay, wow, that one hurt!” You exclaimed with a joking smile as you placed a hand over your heart, pretending to be hurt, “That one dug deep, but bold of you to assume I would have a husband.”

“Bold of you to assume I would care.”

A tense silence filled the air after Sam spoke, but it was a silence you were starting to grow comfortable with. And for the first time in her life, Sam felt terrible for what she said to you. She wanted to apologize for saying she didn’t care about you, but she couldn’t muster up the pride to admit she was wrong. So all she did was look at you sadly and hope you would pick up on it.

“You know, I seriously thought we were having a moment,” you halfheartedly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It took several seconds before Sam replied, just as you walked out of the kitchen, “Yeah…I don’t really think the whole ‘husband’ thing would work out for me either.”

This comment certainly caught you off guard. “Why is that?” You asked while returning back to the kitchen, clearly interested in what Sam had to say, “Not much of a marriage person?”

Sam shuffled awkwardly on her feet as she uncrossed her arms, gripped the counter behind her, and looked down at the floor. “No, it’s not the marriage part. It’s the man part,” she admitted while slowly looking up at you with the most vulnerable eyes ever. The look she gave you said a thousand words: this was something not even Tara knew about.

Sure, the Carpenter sisters shared everything, but Sam wouldn’t share this. Her attraction toward women was something that further ruined the bond between her and her mother, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it ruin her relationship with her only family left. Of course, Sam knew about Tara’s relationship with women, especially once she found out about Tara and Amber, but she still couldn’t help the feeling of being afraid to disappoint Tara.

But before you could comfort Sam, before you could tell her that her fears meant nothing and that Tara would still love her, you got interrupted. “Sam! Y/N! Get your asses in here!” Mindy yelled from the living room, “We want to watch this movie with you two!”

Sam quickly got rid of the vulnerability on her face when she heard Mindy’s voice, not wanting to show that kind of weakness to anyone.

“Sam-” you started, but the woman quickly brushed past you, subtly wiping a tear from her eye as she walked into the living room.

Following behind her, you entered the living room and sat at the only open spot on the couch, which was conveniently next to Tara, who had Sam on her other side. “Thank god, I was starting to think you two were fucking in there or something,” Mindy remarked as she grabbed the tv remote, “Let me introduce you guys to the scariest movie on the planet: The Cat in The Hat Live Action!”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and playful teasing as the hours slowly seeped into the early morning hours. The small banter between Mindy and Tara kept things interesting; Mindy compared Tara to the Things, as Anika tried to keep it peaceful. The stolen glances you shared with Sam had their conversations, and when you went to bed that night, you would consider this night a step in the right direction at changing your relationship with Sam.

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

One thing Sam hated about working a 9-5 was how inconsiderate most of society can be. It was already a busy day at the cafe, more alive than average, and her nerves were already shot for the next and a half. From people complaining about not getting orders in a short time to people demanding to have their drinks remade, it was a rough day for the older Carpenter.

She had half a mind to tell the next person who complained about their coffee not being proper that it was just coffee; if they wanted it right, they should buy a Keurig and make it themselves. Although that would be funny, it would also end in Sam getting fired, so she just bit her tongue and continued working.

As if her day couldn’t get any worse, you always had a habit of catching Sam at her worst. “Are you stalking me now?” Sam questioned once she saw you approach the front counter.

“Oh yeah. You know me, I can’t get enough of the Carpenter girls,” you said with a smirk as you quickly checked Sam up and down, frowning when you saw a faded coffee stain on her apron. It wasn’t hard to notice the looks Sam got in public, so you could imagine how customers would treat her. If the universe would allow it, you would put Sam in your back pocket and protect her from the rest of the world; God knows that the woman deserves some peace in her life for once.

“For whatever reason, Tara can’t seem to leave you alone,” Sam mumbled as she pulled out a pen and notepad, “What can I get you?”

“Just a small cappuccino, please,” you replied as Sam wrote down your order and took your payment. She liked writing things down, which helped her remember the important stuff. And maybe, in the distant future, she might want to buy you a coffee sometime.

Once you ordered, you went and sat down at a booth by yourself and took in the place: it had indeed calmed down from earlier; only a couple of people remained from the rush hour. You enjoyed the calmness, as it gave you time to observe people. Not in a weird or stalkerish way, but in a way to think about other people’s lives, how these weren’t just random people who had no life. These were people who had dreams, who had family and friends; you enjoyed watching the way the world works around you.

You watched as a man with stress lines on his forehead eagerly type away on his laptop, mouthing every word he typed. How sweat lined his hairline, he could have had a deadline for work that he pushed off until the last minute. You then turned your attention to the girl at the opposite end of the cafe, a book in hand as she wore black headphones over her ears, entranced into the world of fantasy without a care in the world while sporting a soft smile. The world amazed you in ways like that: two completely different people who somehow ended up at the same place at the same time, with different things going on in their lives. Maybe it was fate that brought these two strangers together, and you smiled when you saw them bump into each other before leaving, both wearing a smile and talking about the book she was reading. Maybe that’s what you wished had happened between you and Sam: an accidental meeting somewhere where a good relationship was possible and not this borderline hostile friendship.

A couple of minutes passed before Sam brought over your drink to you. “How late are you working?” You asked once she handed you your drink. The questioning look she gave you was a funny one, but not that it mattered.

“I’m here till 5. Why?”

“Damn, you got a 9 to 5? It looks like I’ll take the night shift,” you joked, but Sam didn’t laugh, only giving you a questioning glare, “Lucy Dacus? No? You’re boring.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not obsessed with three grown women who refer to themselves as ‘boys,’” Sam remarked. She had no desire to learn anything about Boygenius, especially after listening to her sister talk for an hour about all of the unholy things she would let Julien Baker do to her. If Sam was being honest, half of the stuff Tara said deserved at least a ten-year prison sentence.

“But you know who they are,” you said teasingly as you stood up from the booth, “Don’t worry, Sam. You’ll soon grow to appreciate Boygenius. I’ll have Tara fix that.”

“Mhmmm, I’m sure about that,” she mumbled as she returned to the counter, bidding you farewell with a slight nod, not caring to return your toothy smile or wave.

If Sam drove home after her long shift listening to Julien Baker, that was no one’s business but hers.

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

When Sam got home, she only wanted a nice, hot shower and go to bed. She didn’t even bother to eat dinner, as she didn’t have the energy or care to do so. As she opened the door to her apartment, which seemed heavier than usual, she kicked off her shoes with a sigh as she made her way into her bedroom, utterly oblivious to the voices in the living room.

“What’s wrong with her?” You asked Tara once the taller Carpenter had shut her bedroom door. “I don’t know; probably work stuff. Do you have five of spade?” Tara asked, more intrigued with the game she was playing than her sister.

“No, go fish,” you replied while looking at Sam’s door; something was telling you to go check on the girl to make sure she was alright, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“Ohhhh my god, you hate me,” the younger Carpenter dramatically stated, dragging out the words as she threw herself backward onto the couch.

“If I hated you, I wouldn’t have done your entire English paper, would I?” You questioned while shooting a glance at the pouting girl, but when your comment earned you a middle finger, you placed your cards down as you stood up from the couch, “I'll be right back.”

Tara scoffed at you as she leaned up on her elbows. “Have you learned nothing from the Meeks family? I hope you don’t come back,” she mouthed off as she started looking at your cards, “you fucking asshole! You did have that card!”

“I never said I didn’t,” you replied with a smirk as you walked toward Sam’s door, ducking out of the way of a flying shoe courtesy of your best friend Tara.

A soft rasping of knuckles pulled Sam away from her almost meltdown. She had felt a constant pressure on her all day, and it started to lift briefly, but it suddenly came back by the end of her shift. Sam was used to the constant pressure and needed to be the best version of herself now that she was providing for her sister, but it all started to get too much for her.

“Sam, you okay?” Great, not only did she have this overwhelming feeling about to take over, but she was also about to have a high speed come apart in front of the person she didn’t want to see her weak.

“I’m good, Y/N. Go back to Tara,” she called out as she backed herself against a wall, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem too happy when you got home,” you replied, hoping to get somewhere with the older woman. “I’m fine. Please, leave me alone,” Sam pleaded, but the way her voice broke off toward the end of her sentence told you that she didn’t need to be left alone right now.

Several seconds passed, the sound of Sam’s bedroom clock ticking away, slowly counting down the seconds until Sam couldn’t bear the deafening silence. She felt like she had somehow found herself in her version of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart,’ at any moment, she would succumb to the voices that were guilting her. For what guilt, she did not know; guilty of her origins, guilty of neglecting her baby sister for five years, guilty of torturing her body for years on end, putting any substance into her body to help calm her mind? Sam didn’t know what was causing this constant guilt that followed her anxiety and pressure, but she would do anything to make it stop. And she did make it stop.

“Fuck it,” she mumbled as she pushed herself up from the floor and walked to her door, grabbing the handle but making no motion to open the door. If she opened that door, it would be an invitation to open herself up to you; she only opened up to one person in her life, and look what he did to her. This constant fear of having to look over her shoulder, as if the shadows were going to transform into physical beings and take her life, or even worse, take Tara’s life. Sam wears scars, both physical and mental, from him, and she would lay down her own life if it meant protecting her sister. But when she looked at you, with your innocent eyes that beamed when you looked at her, Sam knew you could never hurt anyone. But Sam was never one to make accurate judgments.

The creaking sound of Sam opening up her door pulled you from your thoughts. Thoughts that weren’t any special; who you would have in your ideal Hunger Games lineup. You knew for a fact that the president would be Cersei Lannister and the game maker would be Jigsaw. However, you still have yet to determine who the twenty-four tributes would be: the only tributes you had so far were Santa Barbara Ellie, Pioneer Kim Kardashian, Regina George, and Chanel Oberlin. It's not the best list, but it's a solid start.

“Hey,” you said quietly, eyes darting over Sam’s bloodshot eyes with dark bags underneath. Even at her worst, she always somehow managed to captivate you like she was a siren, slowly bringing you into your inevitable demise. Still, you could never seem to pull yourself away from the beauty that was Sam Carpenter.

Sam scoffed at your weak greeting while ignoring the feeling of her stomach turning at how you looked at her. She knew she looked like a hot mess, and she believed it was your way of silently making fun of her. But the way your lips were slightly parted and your eyes seemed a bit too dilated, refused to leave her own, told her that you weren’t judging or making fun of her. No, you were admiring her, which sent a slight shock of guilt throughout her; Guilt, that was Samantha Carpenter’s best friend.

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the floor, as she couldn’t handle the feeling of your eyes burning into her skull. “Who’s shoe is that?” She asked, motioning down to the floor, where Tara’s shoe landed.

“Well, if you look closely, you can see that it’s a size three for babies,” you remarked teasingly.

“Kill yourself!” Tara shouted from the living room, not caring enough to storm out into the hallway and show you how vicious she can be.

“Charming, isn’t she?” You stated as Sam looked back up and made eye contact with you. Her face told you that she didn’t want to talk, but her eyes were silently begging you to stay. It was a dilemma that you stumbled upon, but you were always someone who loved conflicts. “Is everything alright?”

Sam sighed as she leaned against her doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that what you wanted? To ask me if things are okay?”

“Um, yes and no?” You trailed off, not wanting to make things more awkward than they were, “Hold on.” You quickly moved from Sam’s door into the living room, and Sam ignored the hushed threats being spoken; her sister was an angel, after all.

“Here ya go,” you said with an embarrassingly large smile once you returned to Sam’s door. In your hand, you held a small brown lunch bag. Sam had to fight off any instincts to punch you in the throat.

“I don’t like gifts,” she said instead of resorting to violence. Truth be told, Sam loved gifts; she just hated receiving them, as it made her feel like she was in someone’s debt.

“Well, good thing it’s not a gift,” you replied, smiling, pushing the gift bag toward Sam, who gave you a questioning look before accepting it. The bag itself was featherlight, almost as if nothing was in there. Sam gave you one last questioning look before opening the bag and looking inside.

In the bag were several containers, all hosting different kinds of cookies and brownies, and to Sam’s surprise, they were all her favorites. There was something much more prominent at the bottom, but she couldn’t tell what it was as the rest of the cookies sat atop. Sam gave you a small smile as she walked over to her chest of drawers and began taking out the items, ignoring how you were now peering into her room as you leaned against the door frame.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Sam genuinely said in a weak, almost fragile voice as she slowly got to the bottom of the bag, “I appreciate this. it has been-” The rest of her words died on the tip of her tongue as she stared into the bag, as silence filled the room. Those silent seconds dragged on into a quiet minute, neither of you saying anything. You knew it might have been too bold or maybe even wrong, but you wanted to let Sam know that you were proud of her.

“Goodnight, Sam,” you quietly whispered, gaining Sam’s attention. Your heart broke once her eyes met yours, tears glossing in her doe eyes as her lip quivered. She gave you a slight nod of recognition before turning her attention back to the bag as a single tear ran down her cheek, grateful that you had already left by the time it broke from her eye.

With a dry chuckle, Sam reached into the bag, pulled out a 10-inch cookie, and sat it down on her chest of drawers. She stared at it for several moments before her lips pulled into a smile as a new feeling shot throughout her heart, one that she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope. But that feeling of hope wasn’t for her; no, it was a hopeful feeling about you.

Sam smiled down at the cookie one last time before she went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and plate, thankful that Tara had gone off to her room so she could enjoy her treat by herself.

Once she returned to her room, she pulled the lid off the container and cut a small piece out of the cookie. Making sure not to ruin the words that said, “Happy three years of sobriety.”

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

The minutes seemed endless as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You didn’t know why you were waiting, but you just were. Your mind was telling you to get up, to do something productive, but your heart and soul were seemingly forcing you to stay put, like something important was going to happen anytime, and if you were just a fraction of a second too late, you would miss it.

It was a stupid feeling, but you couldn’t compel yourself to move; it was as if your mind was in a trance, stuck in some faraway land, and you could do nothing to pull yourself back into your body. You were on the verge of losing your mind when you knew exactly what you were waiting for, and when you finally accepted why, it happened.

Your phone dinged on your nightstand, and you immediately smiled; you didn’t have to look at it to know who it was. In a swift motion, you quickly got up from your bed and grabbed your phone as you read the text message. It wasn’t a long one, or even a special one, to be honest, but the smile on your face was almost comical, and your heart soared. The text read, “I don’t know how you found out about the date, nor do I even want to. But thank you, Y/N, I needed that today.”

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

“I will never understand the hype for ‘Hamilton,’” Mindy stated with a look of distaste as she flopped down onto the Carpenter’s couch. It wasn’t movie night but more of a girl’s night. Since it was Tara’s idea to have a girl’s night, she got to pick the movie. But it wasn’t for her, no, it was for Sam.

The older Carpenter sister would never admit to liking such things, but she did have a soft spot for musicals. She didn’t know where this love for them came from, but ever since she was young, she had loved the idea of singing.

Before Sam had discovered her mother’s journal, which had ultimately led to the destruction of her family, she used to sing in her church’s choir. It was the first thing her mother didn’t force her into doing, and she loved singing in front of people; it made her feel like nothing in the world could touch her.

Singing was the only thing Christina Carpenter told Sam she was good at and the last thing she ever took away from Sam.

Once Mr. Carpenter left, Christina stopped taking the kids to church, which caused Sam to be pulled from the choir. It still didn’t stop Sam; she saved up enough money to buy a guitar and write songs while practicing the guitar in her room. When Sam started to dabble around in drugs and alcohol, she slowly started to lose herself. She lost who she really was, but she never lost her voice.

Only when it was the day of Sam’s 18th birthday did Christina finally ruin the last good thing Sam liked about herself, “Your real father had the voice of an angel.”

Sam left that night, and she hadn’t sung since.

But now, five years later, Sam still loves everything to do with music. She was glad that Tara had taken one for the team and turned on Hamilton because Mindy would never let Sam hear the end of it.

“‘Hamilton’ is okay, but not Lin-Manuel Miranda’s best work,” you stated as you stood in the kitchen, making a bag of popcorn for yourself. Sam was also in the kitchen with you, which has become a common meeting place. She was making herself a sandwich as she quietly listened to the banter between you and Mindy.

“I don’t believe you. What is his best work?” Tara challenged as she shifted on the couch, throwing an arm over the side as she looked into the kitchen to glare at you.

“His best work is easily ‘In the Heights,’” you declared with too much emphasis on the movie title.

“No!” Tara yelled, “You only say that because the lead actress looks like Sam, and you said she was hot!”

“I did not say that!” You lied as heat rushed up your neck and flooded your cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassing because Tara called you out; you were embarrassed because you were in the kitchen with Sam. It didn’t help that you could hear Sam snickering as you were defending yourself.

“Yes, you did. Do you want me to pull up the screenshots from the long chain of text messages you sent me?” Tara asked, even though it wasn’t a question, as she pulled out her phone. “Example one: ‘Oh my god, Tara. I’m watching this movie, and this woman looks just like Sam.’”

You quickly threw your bag of popcorn down onto the counter as you sprinted into the living room. You simply couldn’t live with the idea that Sam knows just how you yearned for her.

“Example two: ‘This is Sam, just in another universe.’ Example three, in all caps: ‘Oh my god, Tara! I am not joking when I say that-’” You quickly snatched the phone from the younger Carpenter sister before she could say possibly the horniest text message you had ever sent.

“You are no fun,” Tara whined as you deleted the messages from her phone. “You’re evil,” you retorted before handing Tara back her phone, who was quick to grab it. You walked back into the kitchen to grab your popcorn and became embarrassed when you saw Sam.

She was wearing one of her light-colored long-sleeve muscle shirts again with a pair of gray sweatpants. In simple words, she looked amazing. Usually, when Sam wore some variation of the muscle shirt combo, you could act ‘normal.’ But now that Tara had practically outed your attraction to Sam, you just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Thankfully, she just gave you a small smile as she watched you grab your bag before heading back into the living room, no doubt about to be the subject of constant teasing from Tara and Mindy.

“So,” Mindy started once you sat down on the couch next to her, “Are we going to talk about those thirst messages-” “Start the damn movie, Tara.”

By the time the movie started, Sam had entered the living room, but not without earning a cat call whistle from Mindy, no doubt a jab at you. She opted to sit by herself in the loveseat as she kicked her feet up on the opposite end. She sent you a smile when no one was looking, and you could have sworn both hearts started beating as one.

Throughout the movie, you had to deal with Tara rapping and Mindy ranting about the musical, but overall, it was a fun night. Sam was slowly starting to warm up to the idea of having you around more often, and you slowly felt yourself catching feelings for her.

Of course, there was this natural attraction to Sam, she was simply beautiful, but her protective personality mixed with her stand-off, almost bitchy, personality was merely perfect. But with her bitchiness, she was the sweetest, most caring person you had ever met. Her laugh was so angelic, and the way her eyes crinkled when she did laugh was so heartwarming. Sam Carpenter was perfect in your eyes.

To say that this attraction was one-sided wouldn’t be fair. After you had dropped off her cookie, Sam started to act differently around you. She would smile more, and only at you most of the time. It seemed like she had begun to reserve that confident smile just for you. She started to see you more as an individual with feelings and plans for the future rather than a simple 2-dimensional person who was only in her life to make it hell. Sam had actually started to care for you even though she still tried her best to despise you.

So when the movie finished and Mindy went home, you grabbed your coat to follow suit soon.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” Tara said as she hugged you while you were standing next to the front door, “You know I love you, right?”

You quickly reciprocated the hug, pulling the girl into a warm, soft embrace. “I know you do, and I also love you too. Even though you can be a shit sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you love it!” She happily exclaimed while pulling back from the hug to pinch your left cheek, “Drive safe, okay?”

“I will, Ms. Carpenter, I will,” you replied, smiling as you opened the door, and Tara disappeared into her room. You had gone halfway out of the door when someone spoke.

“You’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?” You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you could pick that soft voice from anywhere. Granted, she was the only one left in the apartment, but you still have yourself the credit for knowing it was her.

“I didn’t think you would want to say goodbye,” you replied as you entered the apartment and shut the door, “I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.”

That was the thing about you: you were so damn respectful. Sometimes, Sam wanted to slam you against a wall to beat the hell out of you. Other times, she wanted to slam you against a wall with her tongue down your throat. Sam had a weird way of showing her attraction to you.

“You didn’t think you were overstepping boundaries when you brought me that cookie?” Sam questioned with a faint smile on her lips. She would never tell you this, but she loved teasing you, as it was the only way she could see the more embarrassed side of you.

“I figured I was, but I thought the gesture of it would be nice enough,” you replied in a weak voice as you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand and shuffled from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry if it was rude of me to do that without asking first. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

The older woman laughed a bit as she walked closer to you and opened the door, “At least let me walk you out,” she offered. You gave her a smile with a nod as you followed her out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind you.

“So, what do you think of musicals?” You asked as you walked down the stairs with her. “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Sam joked with the slightest hint of flirtation in her voice, and you almost felt your knees give out.

“Ha, you wish,” you replied as you matched her tone of voice, which earned you a playful smirk to get sent your way. If you figured your one way to win Sam’s trust was to flirt with her occasionally, you would go out giving it your all.

You two reached the floor level of the apartment building, and you held the door open for Sam as you walked outside. “But seriously, though, what do you think of them?” You asked as Sam followed you to your car.

“I enjoy them well enough. Why?” Sam responded as she eyed you suspiciously.

“Because the ‘Aladdin’ musical is going to be here soon,” you stated before you continued with your proposal, “And I was wondering if you would want to go with me?”

The offer was a genuine one from you; you wanted to spend more quality time with Sam, but you also have been dying to see the musical. It was a win-win situation all around.

“Y/n,” Sam started with a beaming smile that matched her chocolate eyes, “I would love to go with you. When and how much do I owe you?”

You quickly picked up Sam’s hand and held it between yours, “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it payment for letting me terrorize your sister.”

Sam glanced down at your hands before looking back up at you. Her beautiful eyes held so much darkness in them that they couldn’t help but draw you in. When you looked into Sam’s eyes at just the right moments, you didn’t see the gorgeous woman; no, you would see her father. And it made you yearn for her even more. Sam had never experienced actual love, but when you looked into her eyes, it made you wonder why thieves bothered to steal pieces of art; you knew you were in love with her.

In a swift moment, before Sam had time to think about her actions, she leaned in. She had meant to kiss your cheek, but in a sudden and indescribable moment, Sam slightly turned her head to kiss the corner of your lips, millimeters away from your lips.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she whispered with a small smile as she said goodbye. You were too busy hoping she left a lipstick mark to respond.

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

The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly as you tapped your foot against the floor. Your stomach was wrapped up in knots you could barely remember to breathe; the only thing you could think about was the constant nervousness that was rattling you to your core. You were early, half an hour earlier, to be exact, but you would rather be early and have to wait rather than be late.

You were sitting on the bottom stairs of Sam’s apartment building, impatiently waiting until it would be an acceptable time to go to the Carpenter’s apartment. It was the night of the musical, and you were wearing a simple yet elegant suit as you pulled at the collar of your shirt as if it was slightly choking you.

‘Nervous’ wasn’t the correct word to describe your feelings. Petrified would be a better word for it. You were terrified that you would somehow mess up this night, had somehow overdone it, or that Sam wouldn’t have fun. Self-doubt was your greatest friend, after all.

You picked up the bouquet of roses from beside you and stared at them. “Maybe it's too much,” you thought out loud as you turned them over in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly said it was a date, but the way Sam kissed your cheek was something you would never forget. Even though you wanted to consider an actual kiss, since it was so close to your lips, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Samatha Carpenter is a strong woman who takes what she wants in this world, and if she wanted to kiss your lips, she would have done so.

Your phone vibrated with a text message, pulling you away from self-doubt. It was from Sam, telling you that you can come up whenever you would like.

Like an idiot, you wanted to run up the stairs as fast as you could to get to Sam quicker, but you forced yourself to play it cool, to not look like a loser. So, ever so slowly, you began your journey up the six flights of stairs.

Within a few minutes, you were standing outside Sam’s door. You had arrived quicker than you wanted, but the excitement was too much. Then, your mind slowly started to get the better of you as you stared down at your fancy dress-up shoes. You hoped you weren’t overdressed, but if you were, you could easily change into the clothes you kept in Tara’s room. But then what if you were underdressed? How would you fix that? You wouldn’t have enough time to go home and change into something more congenial, and you certainly weren’t going to make Sam change. What if Sam wasn’t even dressing up at all? What if this was just a friendly outing, and you completely fucked it up? What if-

Before you dive further into the scenarios that could play out, the door opened, and all of the air within your lungs left.

“What the fuck are wearing?” You asked with slight irritation in your voice, bewilderment written all over your face.

“What? You don’t like it?” Tara questioned as she spun around in a circle for you. The younger Carpenter sister was wearing a yellow shirt with a pineapple that had on a thong; underneath the fruit was the word ‘slut.’ She was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, and when she turned around for you, you saw ‘baby girl’ embroidered on the butt.

“Clearly It’s referring to the pineapple, not you,” you said with a smile before it fully registered what was on the girl’s pants, “Hey, turn back around!” Tara did as you demanded, “If I would have known you were wanting to check on my ass, I would have done some squats first,” she teased with a smirk.

When you reread the word ‘baby girl,’ you scoffed at the more petite girl, “Why are you wearing those?”

“Because it's funny! It’s called having a sense of humor!” Tara shot back before an evil smirk appeared, “Why? Do you want me to take them off? I don’t think Sam would like that too much; she gets territorial over you.”

The comment certainly surprised you, and Tara quickly noticed her mistake. “I didn’t mean that,” she tried to explain, but it was too late.

“What do you mean she ‘gets territorial’ over me?” You questioned, completely forgetting about why you were talking to Tara in the first place as the thought of Sam ran rapidly throughout your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tara replied with a nervous laugh as her eyes darted around the room. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone this, and Sam made her swear not to tell anyone. Now, she has broken that promise to the one person who wasn’t supposed to know.

Now, it was a simple mistake that led to Tara finding out about the flirtatious relationship between you and Sam. It was the night Sam kissed your cheek; Tara saw that bright smile on Sam’s lips and how her eyes held so much admiration. She had never seen that look on her sister’s face, and she knew something had happened.

So, like any good sister, she interrogated and terrorized Sam until she finally caved.

Sam only told Tara the bare minimum; you two were going out later in the week to watch a musical together and that you had gotten her a gift a week ago. She didn’t plan on telling Tara that the gift in question was her sobriety treat basket, but when Tara went to grab a water bottle from Sam’s mini fridge, she saw a small box of brownies with your handwriting on a sticky note. “I believe in you :)” was written on it, so Tara asked Sam about it.

Sam told her sister about the gift, but Tara didn’t seem bothered by it. “Oh, yeah. I figured something fruity was going on between you and the biggest homo of the century. But why the fuck did you keep this from me?!” Tara shouted, moving the box around in the air.

“I didn’t think you would want any,” Sam defended with a weak sigh, but she knew it wouldn’t help.

“I would give a strip show to the old people’s home just for a brownie from this place, and you didn’t think I would want any?” She questioned in a slightly more demanding voice before huffing and leaving Sam’s room with the box in hand.

But now, in the current moment, Tara wished she hadn’t opened Sam’s fridge. That annoyingly hopeful smile on your lips drove her insane, not to mention that lovesick look in your eye.

“Stop it, you’re freaking me out,” Tara stated as she made a disgusted face at you. “No. Tell me why you said that,” you pressed on, hoping to get an answer from the younger sister.

“Y/N, what are you hounding her about?” A soft, angelic voice questioned, and your attention immediately shot to Sam. She was wearing a black dress that clutched her curves and somehow made her look even more beautiful if that was even possible. The dress had a plunging neckline, and you had to force your eyes away from her cleavage, earning you a smile of approval from Sam, but an elbow followed by a look of distaste from Tara.

“You look amazing,” you stated breathlessly as your eyes wandered down Sam’s body, admiring the leg slit that showed off her left leg. You prayed for nights when that leg would be wrapped around your head.

“Thank you. You look not so bad either,” Sam replied with a soft smile as she picked up her black clutch bag and walked toward you.

“Have fun on your date,” Tara sneered as she entered her room. Truth be told, she couldn’t have been happier for her sister, but she would rather die than let you know that.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled under your breath as your eyes followed Tara before they shot back to the goddess before you. “Are you ready?” You asked, and she gave a curt nod before walking to the door. When you got to the car, you opened the passenger door for Sam, and she thanked you with a soft smile that made your heart explode and your knees weak.

The car ride to the theater was a peaceful one filled with pleasant conversation as you asked Sam about her day and her about yours. Sometimes, you would catch her looking over her shoulder with those soft doe eyes, and you had to fight off any urges to kiss her soft lips.

“Here we are,” you stated as you pulled into the back parking lot of the theater. As you parked the car, Sam observed people leaving their cars, dressed in all kinds of formal clothing, as they made their way into the theater. It took several seconds for it to click in her mind; this was a date.

Of course, she had assumed it might be considered one whenever you asked her, but as she watched the couples get out of their cars and link hands while they all wore fancy clothing, she knew that this was a date. Sam also knew that if she asked you if this was officially a date, she knew that you would deny it. So when you both stepped out of the car and started walking toward the entrance together, she reached out to interlace your fingers with hers.

It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of her hand in yours was enough to warm your cheeks and set your heart afire. You looked at her, only to find that Sam had already been staring at you.

“What?” You asked with a slight smile and a hint of nervousness in your voice. Sam bumped her shoulder into yours, “Nothing, it's just you look beautiful tonight.”

As if your face couldn’t get any redder, you laughed nervously as you looked down at the ground. The compliment threw you off, but you still accepted it nonetheless. “Thank you. And you look beautiful as well, Sam,” you stated.

“I know; you said that earlier,” she teased as she squeezed your hand, “Come on,” she continued as you two walked into the building.

You held open the door for her as you two entered, and then she patiently waited while you got the tickets.

“My lady,” you said as you returned to Sam, sticking out your elbow. “You are such a dork,” she replied, smiling as she locked her elbow around yours and followed your lead. Sam kept quiet as you led her past row after row, but her surprise never stopped until you led her to the third row up front. “Come on,” you stated as you led her down the row toward the middle, “these are our seats.”

“Y/N. How much did these cost?’ Sam questioned as she hesitatingly sat down next to you. “Don’t worry about the price. Money doesn’t mean anything when it comes to memories,” you eagerly replied, which was the truth. You didn’t care about the ticket price; the only thing you cared about was making Sam happy. Sam was someone who found happiness hard to come by, so you devoted your time to try and make her life better, even if that meant putting a massive dent in your credit score.

“I will stab you in the neck with a knife if you don’t tell me how much you spent on these seats,” Sam demanded with a soulless look in her eyes. It was meant to be threatening, maybe it was, but the only thing you could feel toward those dark eyes was a sense of attraction.

“Shhh, it's getting ready to start,” you silenced her, and soon enough, the lights began to dim as the crowd quickly stopped their chatter and turned their focus to the stage. Sam scoffed at you and turned her attention away from you. She wanted to be angry with you for not telling her how much you spent, but she knew that doing that would only ruin this night, which was something she knew you had been looking forward to for longer than you had been leading on.

So, when the curtains opened, she quickly glanced at you. She noticed how your eyes seemed entirely dedicated to the actors on stage and how your lips were curved up in the slightest of a smile. Sam thought you looked the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

Sam moved her hand from her lap to place it in your lap. She turned her hand so that her palm was facing up, and you didn’t have to ask what she wanted; you interlaced your fingers with hers and pulled them further into your lap.

If Sam noticed the way your hands started to sweat, she didn’t say anything. She was too busy focusing on how your thumb was featherlight stroking her hand to concentrate on anything. No one had ever touched her with such softness; she wanted to cry.

When the play finished, and you took her back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but give you a goodnight kiss as a thank you.

Maybe one day you could bask in the sweet taste of her lips on yours. But for now, you would live with her lipstick stain on your cheek, and you would wear it with honor.

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

Things had changed between the two of you. They were highly subtle at first: Sam’s eyes looking for you in a crowded room, her fingertips lingering on your hand whenever she handed you your coffee, and she even gave you another rare kiss on the cheek when you brought a very drunk Tara home late one night. Then things started to pick up; she would text you and ask you to pick something up for her and Tara, and when you would drop them off, Sam would ask you to stay for a while. She would always say Tara asked you to stay, but you knew better, even though you never questioned her.

It was one of those nights at the Carpenter’s apartment, movie night with just the three of you. Of course, typical movie nights with the core four plus Anika and you were on Fridays, but the sisters liked having you over just by yourself, as you weren’t nearly as much trouble as the twins. Tara wanted to refer to you as a plant; check in occasionally to make sure you weren’t dead and give you some stuff to keep you from dying.

“Tara, I am not watching ‘The Babadook,’” you stated as you sat on the couch alone. Tara was doing her dad's stance while flipping through movies to watch while Sam was in the kitchen making popcorn.

“Who?” She asked, not even caring to look back at you. “What-” you started to say before the shorter Carpenter cut you off, “Asked?”

“Why do I even hang out with you? All you do is insult me,” you joked as Tara moved to sit beside you. Well, on you. She threw an arm around your shoulder as she got comfortable on your lap. “Because you love me, obviously,” she remarked, still looking for the perfect movie.

Sam knew it was spiritual love, but she couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy grow throughout her chest. Especially over her sister! With a slight shake, Sam tried to fight off that feeling as she grabbed the popcorn bags, along with some bowls, and made her way into the living room.

“Just two bags?” Tara questioned once Sam entered the living room. “Yeah, I figured you and Y/n would share. Why; is there a problem?” The older sister questioned with a raised eyebrow as she set the bowls on the coffee table.

“No, it's fine. But I am getting an entire bag for myself,” Tara stated as she left your lap to grab a bag from Sam before moving to the opposite end of the couch. “Looks like you two will have to share,” she added with a sly smile.

You shared a look with Sam, who had slight irritation on her face. She handed you the bag as she spoke, “I’ll go make more.” When Sam moved to head into the kitchen, you quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from getting further.

“No, I’m alright with sharing. Only if you are, though,” you said quietly, ignoring the snickering coming from the end of the couch. Sam gave you a small smile as she nodded, sitting beside you on the sofa.

A small laugh left your lips as you looked at Sam’s outfit. “What?” She questioned.

“We are matching,” you responded with a smile as you looked up at Sam, who was already looking at you before she looked at your outfit. It was true; both of you were accidentally wearing practically the same outfit: blue plaid pajama pants with solid black shirts.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Sam said with a smile as her eyes met yours. It was a small moment between the two of you, but it was quickly ruined when the sound of gagging pulled you two from it.

“Please, no homosexual activities in front of my popcorn. I don’t want it forced down my throat,” Tara complained as if she wasn’t someone who also suffered from those homosexual tendencies as well.

Sam cleared her throat as she grabbed one of the bowls and opened the bag of popcorn, pulling all of it into the bowl. “What movie did you pick?” You asked as you kicked your feet onto the coffee table, earning yourself a slight glare from Sam. She wouldn’t classify herself as a neat freak, but she hated it when people put their feet on furniture not used for sitting.

“‘It puts the lotion on its skin, or it gets the hose again,’” Tara quoted while throwing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it with her mouth.

“I love that movie so much,” you commented while grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, covering up your legs as you got comfortable.

“What movie?” Sam questioned as Tara hit play. “‘The Silence of the Lambs.’ It's one of my favorite movies,” you replied with a smile, leaning over to give Tara a quick fist bump for the choice.

“Is this the one with Jodie Foster?”

“Yep,” you and Tara replied simultaneously, earning a small groan from Sam, but she didn’t protest.

Once the movie began, Sam pulled at your blanket and placed some over her lap. You thought nothing of it until you felt Sam’s thigh brush against yours. You guessed it was an accident, but she didn’t move her leg; you relaxed your body and pushed your thigh against hers. You felt your chest flutter at the slight smile on Sam’s face at the contact.

As the movie progressed, the distance between you and Sam slowly became nonexistent. Your shoulders were now touching each other as you shared one blanket. In a moment of braveness, with a little bit of stupidity, you moved your hand underneath the blanket, which was where Sam had been keeping her own. Slowly, your hand inched toward Sam’s, hoping to reach the desired location without Sam pulling her hand away.

When your hand gently grazed Sam’s, the Latina made no effort to pull away, so you took it as a sign to continue. You linked your pinkie with hers and waited. I waited for her to finally realize what you were doing and pull away or glare at you and then ridicule you for such actions. So when Sam did pull her pinkie out of the lock with yours, you tried not to show your disappointment on your face.

But before you could get too comfortable with your sadness, Sam interlaced her fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle yet firm squeeze. It was a small gesture. Some people might even call it friendly, but how your heartbeat quickened at the contact was embarrassing. You only hoped that your fast heart rate and nervousness would cause your palms to sweat. If they did sweat, though, Sam didn’t say anything about it, which you were grateful for.

As the end credits rolled, you let go of Sam’s hand, much to the older woman’s disappointment. You helped Sam clean up the mess made during the movie while you two let Tara sleep peacefully on the couch.

“I can clean those,” you said while walking into the kitchen. Sam was at the sink washing the bowl that you two had used.

“No, it’s okay. I got it,” she replied as she looked over her shoulder at you. “Thank you for staying tonight. I know Tara can be a little shit sometimes.”

You laughed at Sam’s words as you walked over to her, leaning against the counter. “It’s no problem; I love hanging out with you guys,” you genuinely replied, smiling, “Thank you for letting me stay over. I know we haven’t always had the best past.”

At the mention of the one-sided distaste that was formerly between you two, Sam stopped cleaning the bowl. A frown appeared on her lips as she looked down, refusing to meet your piercing gaze.

She took a deep breath before she spoke, “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know. I thought you were only getting close to us so you could tell Gale, but I know better than that now. I’ve been so…closed off to people that my judgment blinded me. I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say.”

To say that Sam’s apology took you aback would be an understatement. You had just assumed that Sam would never own up to how she treated you in the past, opting just to pretend nothing ever happened. But you could tell that she had been working on this apology for a long time, so you appreciated it while you could.

“Thank you, Sam, for apologizing. I won't try to play it down, but it does mean a lot to me,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at the vulnerable woman before you, “but I have to ask. What changed?”

A sigh left Sam’s lips as she turned on the sink, washing out all the soap. She then began drying it off to think about her response. It wasn’t a difficult thing to explain. Well, the logical reasoning for her change of mind about you. But what she was trying to avoid was telling you that she also had a change of heart. Sam had started to enjoy your presence and hated being without you; she yearned for your soft, gentle touches that followed your caring words. She wanted to tell you that she still hates you but cares deeply for you.

Sam dried her hands off as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I honestly don’t know entirely,” she began, “I know my opinion started to change after you brought me that cookie. But I feel like things changed before that, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” you said with a soft laugh, “I think I’ve just gotten so used to you being a dickhead to me that I kind of don’t associate anything else with the way you treat me.”

Sam had to pretend your words didn’t split her heart down the middle; she had to pretend your words didn’t pierce her heart like an ice-cold dagger. She knew she had no business to be hurt by your honesty, but still, she hated being reminded of how things were.

“I am sorry about that. You were there to protect Tara when I wasn’t, and for that, you will always have my gratitude,” Sam stated as she took several moments to decide on what to say next, “Tara told me that while I was gone for those five years, that you took care of her. Is that true?”

“Yeah,” was all you said in a quiet voice, almost as if you were preparing yourself for when Sam started to ask more questions but silently prayed she wouldn’t.

“How bad was it?” The older Carpenter asked with a voice filled with regret. You didn’t have to ask to clarify what she was asking about; you could tell by how her left fist started to clench as she brought her right arm to rub over the median cubital vein in her left arm. She wasn’t asking about how bad the attack was. No, she was asking about how bad Tara’s home life was when she was too high to do anything about it.

“I made sure she wasn’t left home alone,” you admitted. It was the half-truth, and you hoped Sam would accept it, but you knew better. “What was it like when Christina was there?” Sam pressed on.

“Things were okay; nothing was too bad,” you replied, trying your best to sugarcoat the truth.

An awkward, dry chuckle came from Sam as she shook her head, “Don’t lie to me; tell me the truth.”

You debated whether you should spare Sam the details or try to lie to her about how ugly it got sometimes. But fuck it, Sam had been making your life hell for almost a year now, so it's time she found out what you dealt with for five years.

“Christina’s a drunk; everyone knows that. But it got ugly once you left, especially once you left. It was like, maybe three weeks since you had left, and Christina had drank herself into a coma. The only problem was that it was in some European country, and no one back home knew about it. Christina was only supposed to be gone for the weekend and return home by late Sunday. Only, that weekend turned into a week, which then turned into a month.”

You gave Sam several moments to digest everything you told her, waiting for her to object. But when all she did was nod, you continued. “Tara didn’t tell anyone about her mom not coming back, and she only just told me why she didn’t tell anyone about it: she didn’t want people to view her as some monster because her entire family had left her.”

A soft sob came from Sam, and that was when you noticed she had been silently crying. When you moved to comfort her, Sam smacked your hand away from her body. “Keep talking,” she demanded. And you followed your orders.

“I didn’t notice anything different until I heard her stomach growl during lunch. She had been rationing her lunch for weeks, trying to make every piece last as long as possible. School food isn’t the best, but you would have thought Gordon Ramsey had made it how she cherished every bite. By the end of the school day, I finally got Tara to tell me what had happened, and I forced her to stay at my house. I told my mom that she would stay with us for a while, and she didn’t bat an eye; it was like she already knew what had happened but didn’t want to find out. That night, my mom had cooked lasagna; Tara had three full plates of it.”

“She hates lasagna,” Sam said in a choked-up voice. “I know,” you responded with a small laugh, “After that night, I made sure Tara always had something to eat and that she was never alone. But the one time I wasn’t there,” you had trailed off, not being able to finish your sentence without a tear forming in your eye.

Sam knew what you were talking about: the first Ghostface attack. Instead of pushing you away, she reached her arms and grabbed you, pulling you into a hug. It was the first hug you two had ever shared, but it was still the best. The grief you two shared could be felt by each other in that warm embrace, and you both found comfort in each other’s arms, which was something no one had ever made Sam feel.

You two hold on to one another as you both quietly cry over the past, hoping to be free of it with every tear that falls down your face. It was a bonding moment, but it was something you both needed; you two needed to be vulnerable together and for the other one to pick the other up.

After a few minutes, Sam pulled back from. She wiped the remaining tears off your face as she tucked your hair behind your ear and did something unexpected but not unwelcome. Sam leaned forward and placed a small, lingering kiss on your forehead as she quietly muttered, “Thank you.”

Once Sam pulled back, she gently squeezed your shoulders as she left the kitchen. You followed after her, only stopping to watch as Sam picked up a still-sleeping Tara from the couch and returned the gremlin to her bed. While Sam dealt with Tara, you grabbed the blanket you shared with Sam and some pillows to make your ‘bed’ for the night. The couch was comfortable, and you preferred it over sleeping with Tara. As small as she was, she always took up the entire bed.

After you deemed your sleeping quarters right, you went into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Props to being over so much; you had your toothbrush. It was a small gesture from Tara, but it gave you unlimited bragging rights. As you brushed your teeth, you could hear Sam talking to someone. With your curiosity getting the better of you, you peeked into the hallway to see the woman talking to someone on the phone.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had fun going out with you, but I don’t want this to go any further than friendship,” she quietly said into the phone as she paced back and forth. Deciding to give her some space, you stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door before spitting out the toothpaste and then rinsing your mouth with water. You wiped your mouth off with a towel before opening the door and leaving, finding Sam still talking on the phone with a mysterious love interest.

As she continued to talk to the person, you got situated on the couch, but before you could get too comfortable, Sam started to snap her fingers at you.

“What?” You hissed out, staring at the woman growing slightly more agitated as her phone call continued. You noted that Sam had already changed into her pajamas for the night: a loose band t-shirt with a pair of shorts.

“Have a good night; I'll talk to you later,” she abruptly said as she ended the phone call, “Are you seriously sleeping on the couch?”

“Um, yeah? Where else would I sleep? And besides, the couch is comfortable,” you replied as you gave Sam a questioning look. If she was insinuating that you sleep with her in her bed, well, that warranted some questions. But not that you would reject her offer.

“Are you alright with that? I know you usually sleep with Tara, but she might try to fight you if you go in there while she’s already asleep,” Sam said, trying to hide that she wanted to ask you to sleep with her. She found comfort in holding your hand earlier, and she surprisingly enjoyed the depressing conversation you two shared in the kitchen. Sam hated to admit it, but she found herself seeking you out for comfort. Not only the comfort but the fact that you warmed her heart as well; she had started to fall for you most unexpectedly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And besides, she usually ends up taking up the whole bed anyway. I’ll have more space out here than I will with her,” you responded, and Sam couldn’t help but nod at your words. “Yeah, she’s small, but don’t doubt how much space she can take up,” she said in agreement, “But would you like my bed?”

Now, that offer caught you off guard. You hadn’t even considered that Sam might provide you with her entire bed so she could sleep on the couch. As considerate as it might be, you were either sleeping on the sofa or in Sam’s bed with her, no in-betweens.

“No, I can’t take that from you and leave you on the couch. I’m honestly fine on it; don’t even worry about it,” you stated honestly, but Sam only shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t be a good host if I let you sleep out here.”

Neither of you wanted to be the one to offer it up, but you refused even to suggest the idea of sharing a bed. Nope, that was going to have to be something that Sam does, and you would happily wallow around in her swollen pride.

Just as you predicted, Sam swallowed her pride and offered the best solution if it did come with a backhanded offer. “Since you enjoy being difficult and making me feel like a horrible person, would you want to share my bed with me? Just this once?”

When she said the sentence, it didn’t sound as rude as the first one; it sounded a lot nicer, like she was hopeful that it wouldn’t be just this once, that this night would turn into another night, and maybe even the rest of the nights you could share.

“Only if that’s alright with you,” you said in a calm, normal tone as you tried to convince Sam that you weren’t mentally bouncing off the walls. “Sounds good to me. Come on,” she replied as she pulled you up from the couch and led you to her room. Sam dared not let go of your arm the entire walk there.

Once you entered her room, she only dropped your hand as she walked over to her side of the bed. She pulled back the covers as she got in bed, stopping to stare at you. You stood uncomfortably in the middle of the doorway as you looked around Sam’s room.

You felt like you saw a new side of Sam as you admired her room; the walls had old types of vinyl, and a single guitar was hanging from the wall. Along with the guitar, there were some framed movie posters, one being ‘Kill Bill’ that was signed. There was a singular bookshelf that didn’t have a single open spot. A record player was also sitting atop her desk in the corner of her room. How you missed all of these small details when you dropped off the cookies, you had no idea.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, pulling you out of your mind. “Sorry; I was just looking at your stuff,” you admitted with embarrassment as you walked over to the bed. You halted before getting in as if you were waiting for Sam to change her mind and kick you out suddenly.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asks as she leans up in bed, her doe eyes shimmering under the dimly lit light. “No, no. It’s just…,” you faltered on an excuse. You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous about sharing a bed with that goddess of a woman, but you also didn’t want her to think you were disgusted by the thought of sharing a bed with her. “Do you want me to sleep in my street clothes? I have New York on me, and I doubt you want that in your bed.”

With a sigh, Sam exits her warm, comfortable bed to grab you a pair of fresh clothes. She didn’t even bother to ask if you happened to have a spare set here-which you did; she started rifling through her closet.

“Here,” she stated as she handed you a faded shirt before walking to her chest of drawers. Sam opened her top drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts for you.

“Thank you,” you said softly while grabbing the shorts from her, “I’ll change in your bathroom real quick.”

Sam hummed in response as she quickly got back into bed, missing the warmth of it.

After you had changed out of your dirty clothes, you decided to put them in Sam’s hamper—a subtle move at her being able to keep your clothes without offering them.

As you left the bathroom, you were still slightly pulling down your shirt, only showing off the lower portion of your stomach. The skin was only visible briefly, but it caught Sam’s full attention.

The scars that littered your abdomen were scattered, but she could recognize a stab wound from anywhere. The story about Jill Roberts haunted you night and day, so you never told Sam about that nightmare. The only one who had some faint idea about it was Mindy, as she had seen you naked on a few occasions. She never asked about the scars; she felt that asking would have been more intimate and personal than the sex was.

But things were different with Sam; you wanted that intimacy with her. And she liked that intimacy with you. Sam wanted to be able to share every nasty, dark part of her past with you, just as much as she wanted you to tell her your dark past. It was opening up with your pasts that allowed you two to share a possible bright future.

So, she asked you about it. “What happened?”

It was a stupid question, but Sam wanted to know your side. Of course, she was aware of the fact you were involved with the 2011 Ghostface killings, but she wanted to know why you were targeted.

You softly sighed as you climbed into bed next to Sam, who was fully sitting up with her legs crossed as she stared at you, silently encouraging you to trust her. If there was going to be anyone to judge you for your past, it certainly wasn’t going to be Samantha Carpenter.

“Well, I was nine when it happened,” you began, “and I suppose it all boils down to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You waited several seconds, debating whether you wanted to share this information. It wasn’t a secret; it was out there for the entire world to read about, courtesy of Gale Weathers, an author who turned a tragic story into a multi-million dollar yearly profit.

“Jill was my babysitter. It was after the first few attacks, and she was still babysitting me. She was always nice to me, well, about as nice as she could be. I had been messing around in her room, and I found this camera, so of course, I started to watch what was on it. On it were videos of all of the recent attacks, ruthless shit. Instead of telling her I found it, I hid it in my backpack, and I had planned to bring it to Judy Hicks. Well, Jill finds out that it’s missing and goes ape shit.”

You shifted around in bed as you got more comfortable, opting to fully lay down on your back as Sam propped herself up onto her elbow to engage herself in your traumatizing story fully.

“Anyways, she starts ripping the house apart, turning it inside out and upside down. Of course, she eventually finds it in my backpack, and I don’t even defend myself. I just stood there like a deer caught in headlights. The scariest part about it was that she didn’t even hesitate. One moment, she had my backpack in hand, then the next, she had a knife,” you finished, not wanting to recall the gruesome experience.

Sam was silent momentarily as she thought over what to say to you. She wanted to comfort you, but she didn’t know how. In a way, she felt like your attack had been her fault. Logically, it couldn’t have been, but she felt guilty about it, guilty about her father.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age,” Sam stated. She truly did feel heartbroken for you, but she couldn’t seem to express her sorrow adequately. The only emotion she was good at convening was her anger, a trait she inherited from both her mother and father.

“It is what it is,” you replied with a soft sigh, “Who were you talking to earlier?”

The older Carpenter sister let out a small groan as she fell onto her back, running her hands down her face to add dramatic effect. “It was Danny,” she replied as she interlaced her fingers and placed them on her stomach.

“Oh yeah?” You asked with a teasing tone. Now it was your turn to prop up onto your elbow. “What did he want?”

“He just wanted to go on another date,” Sam responded, to which you huffed. This slight noise got her attention; she turned her head to the side to look at you as if she were studying your facial expressions to try and guess what you were thinking. “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Just curious. You seemed annoyed, and you hung up pretty quickly. Just thought you were having a sneaky link I didn’t know about.”

“Oh, please. If I wanted a sneaky link, I certainly wouldn’t let my family know about it,” she joked softly, and your heart erupted. Sam’s smile was rare, even more rare around you. It was as if the angles had parted the sky, and you could catch a glimpse into heaven. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen, but the most teasing one.

“Okay, but be honest: what happened?” You pressed on while clarifying that you respected Sam’s boundaries if she didn’t want to tell you.

“We went on a date. Danny kissed me because he felt something; I didn’t feel anything. He called to ask me on another date; I said no. Simple as that,” she replied with a monotone voice, but you knew there was more to the story.

“Sam,” you said with a soft voice.

“Mhm?”

“I will throw myself out of your window if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam questioned with a voice full of laughter as she smiled from ear to ear.

“Tell me, or I’ll paint the sidewalk red,” you joked with a smile that matched hers.

“I told him no because I don’t want to be with him,” she replied honestly as she stared at you with those dark, doe eyes. You swore you could get lost in that void. “Now, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”

You scoffed at her but entirely laid down nonetheless. “I guess so,” you grumbled as you rolled onto your side, facing away from Sam.

Sam only laughed at your shitty attempt to pout as she got out of bed to turn off the overhead light. Once she was back in bed, she rolled onto her side to face your back.

Slowly and very hesitantly, she wiggled closer to you, wrapping a loving arm around your waist. Sam didn’t have to wait long before she felt your hand atop hers, pulling her closer to you. Soon enough, her entire front was pressed against your back, and you couldn’t have been happy. Your heart seemed to only beat for Sam, as your entire body started to feel like it was catching on fire.

“You know,” Sam whispered into the dark room, “I listened to Julien Baker the other day.”

“That’s not the one I was talking about,” you responded, not missing a beat.

She scoffed at your weak response, “There’s too many.”

“Girl, there are only three!”

“Whatever,” she mumbled while she pulled you closer into her body as if she couldn’t get enough of you. Sam placed a chaste kiss on your head before slowly drifting off to sleep, with you in her arms.

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

The picture frames hung on the walls rattled as the loud, booming sound of music filled the air. Against your will, the twins plus Tara dragged you to a frat party. Drunken college students mixed with obnoxious music was not your cup of tea, but you did enjoy the theme: early 2000s club. From Lady Gaga to Timbaland, even to Beyoncé, it was the first time a party had gotten the music right! There’s nothing wrong with today’s music; they don’t make them like they used to.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Tara offered. Even though she forced you to go out tonight, she still wanted you to have fun without pressuring you to do too much. She could be a little asshole sometimes, but she had her soft moments.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you replied softly. The two of you were sitting together on the only couch that didn't have people either passed out or making out, even though Tara suggested doing either with you.

“Tara, I think you are wonderful and completely captivating, but I do not want your tongue down my throat,” you joked with a soft laugh. The younger Carpenter whined in response as she kicked her feet up into your lap.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. It’s the other Carpenter’s tongue you want,” she teased with a wink as she made a V with her middle and pointer finger, bringing it to her lips while sticking out her tongue.

“What is wrong with you?” You questioned while politely shoving the more petite girl, forcing her to stop. “Oh yeah, how come I found you two wrapped up in each other’s arms then? Mmm?” She pressed.

It was a simple question but an entirely challenging one as well. You needed a place to sleep, so Sam offered to share her bed with you, as it was better than the couch. That part you could explain, but you couldn’t explain why or how you woke to Sam’s face pressed against your chest. It was the first time you had ever felt so loved, so seen. It wasn’t just you who had found so much comfort that night. Sam loved falling asleep to your heartbeat; the drumming sound soon became a lullaby.

“She tried to kill me and forced me to share her bed for warmth,” you stated, but Tara didn’t believe you for a second. “You know, if you would have told me that four months ago, I would have believed you. But now that you have stolen my sister from me and somehow tricked her into falling for you, I don’t believe you.”

Your ears perked up at the mention of Sam falling for you, and your cheeks started to get warm at the thought of Sam recouping your feelings. “She likes me?” You asked with a love-sick smile on your lips.

Tara rolled her eyes at your question and pushed herself off your lap. “I don’t know how you did it, but Sam cares about you. I think she started to go soft on you when you took her to that musical,” she stated as she stuck out her right arm to you. You grabbed onto her hand and allowed the more petite girl to pull you off of the couch, then you followed her into the kitchen.

“I didn’t even know that Sam likes musicals,” you commented as you grabbed a Seagram from the bucket full of ice on the kitchen island. “She loves them more than me. I fully believe Sam would sell me for some ‘Six’ tickets,” Tara remarked as she grabbed a beer.

You laughed at the younger Carpenter comment. Sadly, she wasn’t being dramatic; you now knew the extent of Sam’s love for musicals, and you hated that you agreed with Tara.

“Yeah, I hate that you believe you on that one,” you replied as you followed Tara into the backyard. The two of you sat down together on a swing, drinking in silence as you two silently judged the drunks amongst you.

All in all, it was a nice night to socialize; exams were finished up for the week, and you two needed a break from all of it. It was nice to get out occasionally with friends, even though you preferred drinking the safety net of your own home. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust people. It was that you hated being around drunk people, and you were a homebody. But just when you started relaxing at the party, the universe had to ruin it for you.

It wasn’t anything terrible at first; Tara had left to grab some more beers for the two of you. She was back within a minute, and as she walked toward you, a man grabbed her arm and pulled her into him.

You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you could tell from the anger in Tara’s eyes that it wasn’t anything good. Sometimes, you wondered if the Loomis genes were airborne, due to how quickly Tara got angry and violent.

Before you had any time to react, Tara had taken the beer bottle in her right hand and smashed it against the man’s head, causing him to fall to the ground. You quickly sprang up from your comfortable seat as you rushed over to Tara, now held back by two of your friends from college. You checked over her hands to ensure no glass had gotten in them, and when you deemed her safe, you took her from friends, who then went to check on the man, who was still on the ground.

“Come on,” you mumbled as you dragged Tara from the backyard and into the front yard.

When you two entered the front yard, she shook herself from your grasp and dramatically flung herself onto the ground, sighing in defeat. The air was full of tension as you stared down at the more petite girl, who held her head in shame.

“What happened?” You questioned as you sat down next to her. With a sigh, she wrapped her arm around yours and rested her head on your shoulder. “He’s from my theoretical film studies class. The other day, we had argued about the Harry Potter movies. And-do not fucking laugh at that!” She exclaimed as she playfully smacked your arm once you started to laugh at her.

“I’m sorry, but you two argued over Harry Potter?” You asked with laughter in your voice, “That’s insane!”

“Shut up, no, it's not. Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted,” she replied with attitude, “the argument was over who was the real bad guy: Dumbledore or Snape. We disagreed, but we didn’t have enough time to discuss it before class ended. Tonight, he stopped me to tell me I was wrong and that he was right, and I kinda got a little angry.”

“‘A little angry?’ You smashed a bottle against his head,” you exclaimed with a look of bewilderment.

“I’m little; my anger fills up my entire body, and sometimes it gets the best of me,” she shrugged as she stood up and held out a hand, “Come on, let's go home.”

You accepted her hand as you followed her home. You didn’t need to ask what she meant by home; you both knew it was the Carpenter’s apartment.

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

“You did what?!” Sam shouted as she stared down you and Tara. The two of you were sitting down on the couch together, sharing shame as you listened to Sam ridicule you. “I let you go out for one night and I promised not to text you the entire time, and you do this? And you,” she then turned her attention toward you, “I can’t believe you let this happen.”

“Sam, I'm so sorry. It happened so quick and I-” you tried to defend but she interrupted you. “You had one job, Y/n. One!”

Sam paced back and forth as she rubbed her temples. This was supposed to be a night of relaxing; she had already had two glasses of wine and ate a little bit too much pasta that was acceptable. Sam even had plans to ask you to stay the night again, that’s why she had the wine; she needed that liquid courage to taste your lips for the first time.

But now, as she went over the possible outcomes of her sister assaulting one of her classmates, all she wanted to do was go to sleep. With a sigh, she dropped her hands and stopped pacing. “Alright,” Sam said in a defeated voice, “I will let it slide, but just this once. Go take your shower, but then you are going to bed.”

Tara was out of the room as soon as Sam said it was okay, not wanting to waste a second as she feared that her sister might change her mind. Tara also wanted to give her sister some alone time with you; she noticed the wine glass on the living room table and she was praying that tonight would be the night the two of you stopped pussyfooting around.

“Sam?” Your voice pulled her out of her thoughts and her eyes automatically snapped to you. “What’s up?” She asked.

You stood up from the couch as you approached her. “I’m sorry about tonight. If I would have known that was going to happen, I would have stopped her,” you apologized but Sam was already shaking her head.

“No, it's okay,” she replied as she grabbed her wine glass and finished it off as she walked into the kitchen, with you a few paces behind her.

“Are you sure?” You quietly asked as you awkwardly looked around. “Yeah. Why do you ask?” She questioned as she placed her glass on the counter and looked at you. You could feel her eyes burning into your skin, and you couldn’t help the words that soon poured out of your mouth.

“I don’t know, I’m just worried that you are actually really upset with me but you don’t want to tell me that because you don’t want to upset me. I’m worried that things are different between us now, and I don’t know why I feel that. I’m just terrified I fucked up somehow, and I really really like you, Sam. I’ve worked so hard to gain your trust and now I’m scared I lost it. So, I am so sorry-” she cut off your rambling by cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours.

Your heart automatically started beating quicker as your hands found home on her hips, pulling her closer into you. When you kissed her back, you could have sworn she let out the slightest moan, and it drove your mind insane.

You couldn’t recall her walking toward you, but the only thing that was running through your mind was how soft her lips were; how sweet they tasted mixed with the wine.

The wine.

You quickly pulled away from Sam’s lips. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to do anything while you’ve been drinking,” you apologized, but your eyes darted between Sam’s own eyes and her lips.

With a soft laugh, Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek, something she had found out she loved doing. “It’s okay, Y/N. I really really like you too, and I hope that we could possibly go on another date again soon?” Sam asked with a look of hopefulness, and you had to fight the urge to lean back in.

“You’re also considering the musical a date too?” You questioned with red cheeks. Sam nodded her head with a smile that matched hers, and oh how your heart beat for the woman in front of you. You swore you were love drunk off those lips that you’ve only tasted once, but now that you’ve tasted them, you’re sure that nothing was as sweet.

“Y/N, would you like to stay the night?” Sam asked, “With me?”

“Are you trying to get in my pants?” You teased as you playfully pushed her shoulders, to which she grabbed your hand and pulled you into her.

Sam reached up with her right hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then ran her fingers down the side of your jaw as she admired your features. “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know that,” she admitted as her thumb stroked your jawline, “But I hope over time I can make it up to you fully. I’ve blamed you for things that weren’t your fault and I’m sorry I was that dense. I know you are just following Gale’s writing as a way to forge your own career, and I shouldn’t have blamed you for the book she wrote.”

Sam took a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for how much of a dick I’ve been to you, and I would like to make it up to you,” her voice got quieter as her eyes refused to meet yours, “By hopefully being your girlfriend?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to wrap your mind around what Sam just asked. When her eyes did meet yours, they were holding so much love and hope that you felt your heart explode. Tears welded in your eyes as you cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a loving kiss, forgetting about the alcohol in her system.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you mumbled against her lips as you quickly pecked them, “But how much have you had to drink tonight?”

The older Carpenter sister laughed at your comment as she grabbed your hand, pulling you toward her room. “I’m fine, Y/N. I’m sure you and the demon child have had more than me. Besides, I only needed a few drinks to actually make a move on you,” Sam admitted as she opened her bedroom door and dropped your hand, to your disappointment, “But how much have you had?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you walked over to the vinyl set in Sam’s room and began flipping through them. “I’m fine; a little buzzed but nothing too bad,” you replied.

“Mhm, yeah, you’re not as awkward as you usually are. I don’t like it,” Sam stated as she handed you a clean pair of clothes to change into you. You noticed they were her clothes, and an embarrassing large smile over took your lips as you finally realized that Sam Carpenter was your girlfriend.

You leaned to kiss her, but Sam placed her hands on your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. You gave her a little pout, so to make you feel just a little bit better, she sighed and gave your cheek a kiss. “Go change and get ready for bed,” she quietly commanded you and you did as told.

The clothes fit you perfectly, as if Sam had bought them just for you. There was a toothbrush laying on the sink, still in its packaging, and you knew that Sam had gone out shopping for you tonight.

Walking into the bedroom, you climbed into bed with the older Carpenter, who was sitting upright with her back against the headboard of her bed, reading a book. “Did you buy me a toothbrush today?” You asked as you laid down and scooted closer to Sam, wrapping your arm around her waist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied as placed her bookmark in the book and set it down on the nightstand, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because there was a toothbrush that hadn’t been opened yet, and these clothes fit a little bit too nice,” you commented as you watched Sam turn off the bedside lamp and lay down next to you.

“Yeah, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied as she pulled you into her body. Sam brought her hand up to the back of your neck and brought your head close to her chest. You sighed in comfort as you nozzled your head, hoping to get as close as you can to her breasts without making Sam uncomfortable.

Sam placed a kiss on your head as she tightly hugged you, “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight, my lovely girlfriend who used to hate me,” you cheekily replied, earning a laugh from Sam.

“When will you ever let that go?” Sam asked with a slight annoyance in her voice, but you knew she was joking.

“I don’t know, until I’ve deemed that enough time has passed for me to be able to move on,” you replied, “But a goodnight kiss would help.”

The Latina chuckled at your words as the hand that was your head was now cupping your cheeks, pulling you into a loving kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, and you knew that you could never leave them. So when Sam pulled away, you chased after her lips, hoping to taste them for just a second longer.

But she stopped you, much to your disappointment. “In the morning you will give you all of the special treatment you want. But for now, let’s go to bed,” Sam stated in a loving voice, and all you did was nod your agreement. You placed your head back on your chest as you two allowed sleep to overtake you.

When the morning came, you awoke before Sam, greeting her with kisses all over her face and sweet nothings about how much you cherished her as your girlfriend.

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

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @maskthedwarf @canvascoloredin

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How Long Does It Take to Read Genesis?

The Book of Genesis is the first book of the Bible and is foundational to both the Jewish and Christian faiths. It sets the stage for the entire biblical narrative, offering accounts of creation, the early history of humanity, the patriarchs of Israel, and the covenant between God and His people. Given the significance of Genesis, many individuals and groups seek to understand how long it might take to read this book in its entirety. This article explores the question: How long does it take to read Genesis?

We will consider various factors, such as the average reading speed, the structure of Genesis, and different reading approaches, to give a comprehensive answer to this question. Additionally, we will examine how reading Genesis can vary depending on whether one reads it for personal reflection, study, or devotional purposes.

The Structure of Genesis

Genesis is the first book of the Hebrew Bible and the Christian Old Testament. It consists of 50 chapters, which are divided into the following major sections:

The Creation and Early History of the World (Chapters 1–11): This section includes the creation of the universe, the fall of humanity, the flood, and the Tower of Babel.

The Patriarchal History (Chapters 12–50): This part of Genesis focuses on the lives of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph, and their families.

In total, Genesis contains around 1,533 verses, depending on the translation, and varies in length and complexity, with some chapters being relatively short and others long and detailed.

Average Reading Speed

The average adult reads at a rate of about 200 to 250 words per minute. However, reading speed can vary depending on factors like familiarity with the text, the complexity of the language, and the reader's level of engagement. For example:

Casual reading: If you are reading Genesis without deep analysis, you might maintain an average speed of 200 to 250 words per minute.

Slow, reflective reading: If you are reading Genesis slowly to absorb its meaning, reflect on its teachings, or meditate on its significance, your speed could drop to around 100 to 150 words per minute.

Studied reading: If you are reading Genesis for academic or theological purposes, you may need to read slowly and carefully, possibly pausing to research or consult commentaries, which could reduce your reading pace further.

Total Words in Genesis

While the number of words varies slightly between Bible translations, the King James Version (KJV) of Genesis contains around 38,000 words. To calculate how long it would take to read Genesis, we will apply the following general estimates based on different reading speeds:

At 200 words per minute (casual reading):

38,000 words ÷ 200 words per minute = 190 minutes or roughly 3 hours and 10 minutes.

At 250 words per minute (average reading speed):

38,000 words ÷ 250 words per minute = 152 minutes or about 2 hours and 30 minutes.

At 150 words per minute (slow, reflective reading):

38,000 words ÷ 150 words per minute = 253 minutes or approximately 4 hours and 13 minutes.

Time Required for Each Section of Genesis

Since Genesis contains different sections with varying lengths and themes, let's break down the time it would take to read the book by section.

1. The Creation and Early History of the World (Chapters 1–11)

These chapters cover some of the most famous stories in the Bible, including the creation of the world, the Garden of Eden, Cain and Abel, Noah's Ark, and the Tower of Babel. These chapters, while foundational, are relatively straightforward in terms of narrative structure.

Word count for Chapters 1–11: Approximately 8,000–10,000 words, depending on the translation.

Reading time: At an average speed of 200 words per minute, this section would take about 40 to 50 minutes to read in one sitting.

2. The Patriarchal History (Chapters 12–50)

This section of Genesis is more detailed and longer. It chronicles the lives of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph, offering genealogies, covenantal promises, and moral lessons along the way. These chapters are more complex and often feature dialogues and long narrative arcs.

Word count for Chapters 12–50: Approximately 28,000–30,000 words.

Reading time: At an average reading speed of 200 words per minute, this section would take about 2 hours and 20 minutes to 2 hours and 30 minutes to read.

Other Reading Approaches

Reading Genesis in One Sitting

If you aim to read Genesis in one sitting, it would likely take around 2.5 to 4 hours, depending on your reading speed and whether you take short breaks. This is manageable for those who want to get an overview of the book without pausing for reflection or study.

Reading Genesis in Multiple Sessions

For a more reflective or thorough reading, many readers choose to break Genesis into smaller chunks. This could involve reading one or two chapters per day or setting aside longer periods on weekends for more in-depth study. If you read one chapter per day:

50 chapters ÷ 1 chapter per day = 50 days to complete Genesis.

Alternatively, reading Genesis over the course of one week by reading about 7 chapters a day would take approximately 7 days.

Thematic Considerations in Reading Genesis

When considering how long it takes to read Genesis, it’s important to reflect on the purpose of your reading. Genesis is not only a historical account but also a theological and moral one. Each section of Genesis carries profound significance for understanding God's nature, human sin, and the unfolding of God’s redemptive plan.

Creation and Fall (Genesis 1–3): These chapters address foundational themes about the nature of God, the purpose of creation, and the introduction of sin into the world. Reading these chapters slowly and reflecting on their implications can take time.

Covenant and Promise (Genesis 12–50): God's covenant with Abraham and his descendants is a key theme. Understanding the promises God made to Abraham and their fulfillment through Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph requires contemplation and study.

Reflection and Application

The purpose of reading Genesis is not just to finish it quickly but to understand and internalize the lessons contained within. The Bible calls readers to meditate on God's Word day and night (Psalm 1:2), which suggests that deep reflection and application are important when reading any biblical text, especially Genesis.

Some readers may choose to read Genesis alongside study tools such as commentaries, cross-references, and devotionals. For example, studying Genesis 1 alongside insights from the Book of John regarding creation can offer richer understanding. Similarly, reflecting on the covenantal promises to Abraham and their implications for believers today may extend the reading time but deepen one's grasp of the text.

Conclusion

The time it takes to read the Book of Genesis depends on several factors: the reader’s speed, level of engagement, and whether the reading is done for reflection, study, or devotional purposes. On average, it takes about 2.5 to 4 hours to read Genesis at a steady pace. For those who wish to read it over multiple days, a pace of 1–2 chapters a day could take 2 to 8 weeks, depending on the reader's schedule.

Regardless of how long it takes, reading Genesis is an important and enriching experience. It provides foundational teachings on creation, sin, the nature of God, and the beginning of God's redemptive plan. Whether read quickly for a general overview or slowly for deep study, Genesis remains a powerful and essential part of the Bible for understanding God’s relationship with humanity.

[saving-word-crawls]

The Scenic Route Crawl

By: paperstxrs

EDIT: (November 10, 2020) This is my first crawl so it wasn’t very well written. I’ll be rewriting it soon.

Slow writers, you’ve come to the right place! If you’re like me, your writing speed is ~10 words per minute.

I present to you… The Scenic Route Crawl! (adapted from the “Road Trip Crawl” on wikiwrimo.org 6)

For those who enjoy earning points (totally optional though):

Win a word war - 2 points

Complete a task - 3 points

Every 100 words - 5 points

Every 1K words - 7 points

You’ve just booked a week at your favorite cabin! Now to ask your friend if they’d like to come with. Sprint 50 words.

Your friend accepted! Sprint for 10 minutes.

You need to pack. Sprint for 15 minutes if you’re going somewhere hot. Sprint for 20 minutes if you’re going somewhere cold.

It’s the day before your trip. All you have left on your to-do list is go to the grocery store. You decided to buy a little something special to surprise your friend. If you want to get something sweet, write 70 words. If you want to get something sour/tart, write 90 words. If you want something savory, write 100 words.

It’s the morning of your trip, and you’re driving to your friend’s house to pick them up. Write 100 words if there’s no traffic. Write 150 words if there’s traffic.

You’re all ready to go, but your friend and you are arguing over what music to listen to. Sprint for 5 minutes.

You’ve finally agreed on a station Write 50 words.

You’re finally on the road. Sprint to the next 1K point. (Example: if you’re at 800 words, than you’d write till 1,000.)

You stop for gas and a bathroom break. As you fill up the tank, you look around at the mountains. Sprint to the next hundred point. (Example: if you’re at 1,189 words, you’d write till 1,200.)

You’re back on the road. If the last digit of your current word count is an ODD number, sprint for 10 minutes. If it’s an EVEN number, you may skip to the next step.

You stop to get lunch at a fast food restaurant. If you want a hamburger, write 40 words. If you want a cheeseburger, write 50 words. If you want neither and you’ll skip lunch, write 65 words.

You’re almost to the cabin! Sprint for 10 minutes.

You arrived! Sprint for an hour as you unpack.

Feel free to post your scores below!

[jcmarchi]

Brain Implant To Enable Communication From Thoughts Alone - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/brain-implant-to-enable-communication-from-thoughts-alone-technology-org/

Brain Implant To Enable Communication From Thoughts Alone - Technology Org

A speech prosthetic brain implant developed by a collaborative team of Duke neuroscientists, neurosurgeons, and engineers can translate a person’s brain signals into what they’re trying to say.

Brain – illustrative photo. Image credit: Pixabay (Free Pixabay license)

Appearing Nov. 6 in the journal Nature Communications, the new brain implant technology might one day help people unable to talk due to neurological disorders regain the ability to communicate through a brain-computer interface.

“There are many patients who suffer from debilitating motor disorders, like ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) or locked-in syndrome, that can impair their ability to speak,” said Gregory Cogan, Ph.D., a professor of neurology at Duke University’s School of Medicine and one of the lead researchers involved in the project. “But the current tools available to allow them to communicate are generally very slow and cumbersome.”

Imagine listening to an audiobook at half-speed. That’s the best speech decoding rate currently available, which clocks in at about 78 words per minute. People, however, speak around 150 words per minute.

Compared to current speech prosthetics with 128 electrodes (left), Duke engineers have developed a new brain implant device that accommodates twice as many sensors in a significantly smaller footprint. Photo by Dan Vahaba/Duke University

The lag between spoken and decoded speech rates is partially due to the relatively few brain activity sensors that can be fused onto a paper-thin piece of material that lays atop the surface of the brain. Fewer sensors provide less decipherable information to decode.

To improve on past limitations, Cogan teamed up with fellow Duke Institute for Brain Sciences faculty member Jonathan Viventi, Ph.D., whose biomedical engineering lab specializes in making high-density, ultra-thin, and flexible brain sensors and brain implants.

For this project, Viventi and his team packed an impressive 256 microscopic brain sensors onto a postage stamp-sized piece of flexible, medical-grade plastic, making a novel brain implant. Neurons just a grain of sand apart can have wildly different activity patterns when coordinating speech, so it’s necessary to distinguish signals from neighboring brain cells to help make accurate predictions about intended speech.

Developing the brain implant: In the lab, Ph.D. candidate Kumar Duraivel analyzes a colorful array of brain-wave data. Each unique hue and line represent the activity from one of 256 sensors, all recorded in real-time from a patient’s brain in the operating room. Photo by Dan Vahaba/Duke University

After fabricating the new brain implant, Cogan and Viventi teamed up with several Duke University Hospital neurosurgeons, including Derek Southwell, M.D., Ph.D., Nandan Lad, M.D., Ph.D., and Allan Friedman, M.D., who helped recruit four patients to test the implants.

The experiment required the researchers to place the brain implant device temporarily in patients who were undergoing brain surgery for some other condition, such as treating Parkinson’s disease or having a tumor removed. Time was limited for Cogan and his team to test drive their device in the OR.

“I like to compare it to a NASCAR pit crew,” Cogan said. “We don’t want to add any extra time to the operating procedure, so we had to be in and out within 15 minutes. As soon as the surgeon and the medical team said ‘Go!’ we rushed into action and the patient performed the task.”

The task was a simple listen-and-repeat activity. Participants heard a series of nonsense words, like “ava,” “kug,” or “vip,” and then spoke each one aloud. The device recorded activity from each patient’s speech motor cortex as it coordinated nearly 100 muscles that move the lips, tongue, jaw, and larynx.

Afterwards, Suseendrakumar Duraivel, the first author of the new report and a biomedical engineering graduate student at Duke, took the neural and speech data from the surgery suite and fed it into a machine learning algorithm to see how accurately it could predict what sound was being made, based only on the brain activity recordings.

For some sounds and participants, like /g/ in the word “gak,”  the decoder got it right 84% of the time when it was the first sound in a string of three that made up a given nonsense word.

Accuracy dropped, though, as the decoder parsed out sounds in the middle or at the end of a nonsense word. It also struggled if two sounds were similar, like /p/ and /b/.

Overall, the decoder was accurate 40% of the time. That may seem like a humble test score, but it was quite impressive given that similar brain-to-speech technical feats require hours or days-worth of data to draw from. The speech decoding algorithm Duraivel used, however, was working with only 90 seconds of spoken data from the 15-minute test.

Duraivel and his mentors are excited about making a cordless version of the brain implant device with a recent $2.4M grant from the National Institutes of Health.

“We’re now developing the same kind of recording devices, but without any wires,” Cogan said. “You’d be able to move around, and you wouldn’t have to be tied to an electrical outlet, which is really exciting.”

While their work is encouraging, there’s still a long way to go for Viventi and Cogan’s speech prosthetic brain implant to hit the shelves anytime soon.

“We’re at the point where it’s still much slower than natural speech,” Viventi said in a recent Duke Magazine piece about the technology, “but you can see the trajectory where you might be able to get there.”

This work was supported by grants from the National Institutes for Health (R01DC019498, UL1TR002553), Department of Defense (W81XWH-21-0538), Klingenstein-Simons Foundation, and an Incubator Award from the Duke Institute for Brain Sciences.

CITATION: “High-resolution Neural Recordings Improve the Accuracy of Speech Decoding,” Suseendrakumar Duraivel, Shervin Rahimpour, Chia-Han Chiang, Michael Trumpis, Charles Wang, Katrina Barth, Stephen C. Harward, Shivanand P. Lad, Allan H. Friedman, Derek G. Southwell, Saurabh R. Sinha, Jonathan Viventi, Gregory B. Cogan. Nature Communications, November 06 2023. DOI: 10.1038/s41467-023-42555-1

Source: Duke University

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[inclinelift]

Factors That Make Mechanical Lifts and Hydraulic Lifts Different

One of the most innovative inventions of the 19th century is the elevator or lift. This incredible machine has made it easy to climb up multi-level buildings in just a fraction of a second. Also, these lifts, including residential lifts and hydraulic lifts, have made it easy for people with mobility issues and wheelchair users to access areas that were impossible for them to access. These lifts are used in industries as well, where they are called hydraulic lifts or hydraulic elevators. They are a safer alternative compared to those used a couple of decades back, but the design and working principle have remained unchanged.

There are three main types of lifts used around us, and names are hydraulic lifts, electric traction lifts and machine room-less lifts. All have their pros and cons, and due to safety reasons and power, hydraulic elevators are used the most.

THE PROS AND CONS OF HYDRAULIC ELEVATORS

The hydraulic system used in these elevators is based on Pascal's principle of transmission of fluid pressure. In simpler words, the compression of fluid is used to generate power and control it. Let us see how this lift works.

The lifting mechanism of these elevators uses an electrically powered pump that pushes the pressurized fluid into the jack lifting system. Pistons are installed inside the cylinder at the base of the lift that powers the elevator car up and down.

THE ADVANTAGES OF HYDRAULIC LIFTS

According to experts working at lift companies, these elevators come with many advantages. The most popular of them are listed below.

• Less expensive to install than other elevator types

• Occupy less space in a building, requiring almost 10% less area for the lift shaft than other elevating means

• Do not require a separate machine room

• Overhead structural requirements are not required

• Load-bearing walls bear the brunt of the elevator load

• Accommodate the use of a remote machine room

But there is more to the story as this machine has some disadvantages as well, and most of them are due to the presence of the hydraulic mechanism.

• Relatively slow lifting speed as it cannot move faster than 150 feet per minute

• Oil in the piston system can overheat fairly quickly

• Efficient temperature control is important

• Can emit an unpleasant odour when it's too warm

• Hydraulic oil can leak out of the pumping system and into the ground

• Soil contamination or groundwater pollution is possible

• Hydraulic lifts tend to be a little noisier

• The lift movement is generally not as smooth as other lifts

Keeping aside all the advantages and disadvantages, those who have used hydraulic lifts will continue using them in their residential and commercial buildings.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HYDRAULIC AND MECHANICAL LIFTS

There are not one, but many differences between these elevators. The key differences are listed below.

• Mechanical lifts are designed for unlimited use, but hydraulic lifts have limited cycles per hour or day.

• Hydraulic lifts are less expensive to install compared to mechanical lifts, but they require more maintenance.

• Mechanical lifts have unlimited vertical rise, and hence, it is popular in multi-storey buildings. On the other hand, hydraulic lifts are available with limited vertical rise.

• Mechanical lifts can be used to lift almost unlimited payload capacity. This is not the case with hydraulic lifts, as the payload capacity is generally 6000 lbs.

SAFETY FEATURES OF HYDRAULIC LIFTS

There is a wide range of standard and optimal safety features to install based on your requirements. You can get all of them installed and others as well, like – 

• Carriage enclosure and safety gate with an interlock mechanism

• Velocity fuses that prevent uncontrolled descent in the unlikely event of a hose rupture

• Check valves hold the carriage in place if power to the lift is lost

• Optional explosion-proof components

[what-even-is-thiss]

I was wondering why audiobooks seem so painfully slow to me and so I looked and apparently audiobooks read at around 150 words per minute. Seeing as my comfortable reading speed is around 500 words per minute I think this explains why I have to listen to them at stupid fast chipmunk speed.

[damonsvftie]

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬*

MASTERLIST

Summary: Since your return, you land yourself into a gig to go and perform at the Masquerade Ball the Malfoy’s are hosting. Things take a turn when you by accidentally turn on their son.

Warning: THE MOST UNHOLY THING IVE WRITTEN. SO MUCH SMUT. SWEARING INVOLVED AS WELL

Note: 2.2k words

Tonight’s gig was going to be particularly special since the song I was going to perform was a way for me to vent and release all the emotions that were building up inside me. Over the course of the past few months, I had completely lost motivation in writing and singing songs. I quit performing at shows. I disappeared completely. I was becoming tired due to always being fully booked for a gig and it was almost taking over my life. But tonight was my comeback.

When everyone had learnt I was finally returning back to business, a flood of requests for me to perform had come in and stakes in price were way above and beyond the type of money I’d ever had imagined. I mean.. how could a few performances hurt right? I mean if I were receiving 150 galleons per show then what was the harm?

However today I had to look representable. I had to look like I had a passion for music and prove to everyone that I was serious about it. Since the Malfoy’s were coming, I could easily earn way more money if they spread my name around and obviously anything they said would rapidly spread around like wild fire.

But I had one concern. Me and Draco Malfoy use to go to Hogwarts together and he completely had a distaste for me. Not that I cared about his opinion on me but if he loathed me then, then he probably still hated me now. His view on me could either break or make my career, but knowing him he probably would be very judgmental towards me.

“Psst.. y/n! The Malfoy’s are here,” gasped the bartender under her breathe. “Your performance will start in five,” a look of fear smearing over her face.

Draco Malfoy entered the substantial doors of the Leaky Cauldron as he followed behind his mother and father. He was dressed purely in a black tuxedo and his family ring wrapped around his finger as an extra touch. His hair wavy just like on the day of the Great War, when we all parted our separate ways.

I could feel the sweat starting to form from under my outfit and my face flushed as my eyes trailed his figure. Noticing that I was staring at him, he looked back at me coldly before turning back to face the owner of the place as he shook their hand, greeting them.

Everyone took their place at a table and looked up at the stage. The room was crowded with witches and wizards chattering until the lights went out.

I sucked in a sharp breathe before placing my hand on the stand. The back up drummers and pianists began the intro of the song as I shut my eyes closing tightly before the podium lights turned back on.

The spotlight was on me and I could feel a hundred pair of eyes gazing up at me as I started to sing. I couldn’t help but stare at Draco’s alluring face as my voice did runs and other imaginable things. My fingertips gliding across the stand as I moved my body to the rhythm. His eyes were on me as he gripped onto a glass full of wine, taking a swig of it as he leaned back into his chair.

The last part of the song that I was originally going to leave out was added in last minute. Closing the end of my performance at once, I risked hitting a whistle tone while my hands hovered against the microphone, earning cheers from the crowd as I bopped my head on the last note.

The crowd erupted into whistles and clapped for me, including the Malfoy’s, who surprisingly stood up and showed their appreciation. Draco on the other hand, still sat in his seat before getting up and pulling his father to the side.

He whispered something in his ear, my gaze darting to the two of them as I could feel my eyes becoming glossy. I just knew it. I just knew Malfoy would blow this one shot I had at proving myself.

When everyone exited the building, the Malfoy’s stayed behind as me and the band were packing our stuff up. “Y/l/n.. the Malfoy’s want to talk to you,” informed the bartender as she patted my arm before heading back to clean up the counters.

Slipping on my cloak, I walked my way to the three of them, my head hung in disappointment because I knew I had failed them. “Miss.y/l/n .. we’re hosting a masquerade ball... and we were wondering if you were willing to perform,” his mother explained as I looked up with astonishment. “Wait- really?” I exclaimed, my voice slightly high pitched at the amazing news. “We’ll take that as a yes, we’re looking forward to seeing you,” she nodded her head, before the three of them headed for the door. Draco stopped for a second turning his face around with a smirk plastered across his lips before leaving.

—

The night of the masquerade ball, I put on a black dress with a slit at the bottom, exposing my naked leg. I paired it with some black stilettos and styled my hair like Audrey Hepburn’s. To top it all of, I covered my head with a black netted veil, embedded with rhinestone.

I grabbed my black eye mask that had pearls underneath the slit for the eyes and it had a long black feather attached to its side. Putting it onto my face, I took a deep breathe before opening the red curtains to the stage.

Everyone was starting to make their way to the dance floor as I started to sing a more sensual song since the one I had sung at the Leaky cauldron didn’t really fit the theme. Lucius And Narcissa Malfoy, swayed to the song I was performing as they slow danced around the ball, her head placed into the crook of her husband’s neck. To my surprise, Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall eyeing me as each single word came out of my mouth. I thought he probably would have brought a date with him but he didn’t.

Something about the song I was singing made me get into my feels. I bent down and ran my fingers up my exposed leg causing Draco to straighten up at the sudden action. Noticing the affect I had on him, I bit down onto my lower lip as my body swayed slowly to the beat. Deciding to be a tease, I trailed my hovering hand down my body as I threw my head back, getting into my feels.

Unfortunately for Draco, my uncalled for action, caused him to spill his wine all over the top of his tuxedo making him leave and clean up the stain.

I had just now finished the song and the tiny voice in my head told me to go and find Draco. I walked through the twisting and turning corridors until I saw a certain door slightly open. Peeking through the crack, i could see Malfoy tugging at his shirt and pulling it over his head.

What if someone saw me? I shouldn’t even be here. I took a step back when the floor underneath my heel creaked. “Who’s there?” He questioned as he walked up to the door. I covered my mouth and froze on the spot, my feet glued to the floor.

Swinging the door open, he glanced at me before putting up his cold demeanour once again. “You?” He sneered. Whatever he had said came through one of my ears and out the other as my eyes wandered down his body, lingering onto his abs.

Noticing that I was staring at him he fake coughed causing me to snap out of my filthy thoughts.”why are you here?” He mumbled frustratedly. Not knowing what to say I pursed my lips Into a line.

It suddenly hit me, Draco was the one who had told his father about me performing tonight so I decided to use that as an excuse. “I came here to ask why you wanted me to perform at the ball tonight? I mean .. why- why are you helping me?” I lied.

Of course I wasn’t here because of that but it was the only thing that could help me from getting myself out of a situation like this. “I.. uh- you got better at singing and I guess your voice is somewhat good,” he gulped, the silence between the two of us causing tingles to run down my spine.

“Are you sure that’s the only thing you liked?” I blurted randomly, causing my eyes to grow wide when I had realised what I meant.

Suddenly,I pulled him in, my lips on his as I deepened the kiss by pulling on the roots of his hair as his hand shut and locked the door behind me. Getting closer to his bed, he tugged at the zip on the back of my dress, making it looser and looser.

I wriggled out of it as the dress slipped down to my feet. His hand made its way into my hair, slowly undoing my loose bun, letting my locks fall down. Lightly pushing me onto the mattress , I laid bare as I propped myself up with my hands. I went down to take my stiletto’s off when he stopped me from doing so. “Leave them on,” he demanded as he crawled on top of me, dipping low to kiss me once again.

His hand trailed the side of thigh making me flinch. He wasted no time in attacking my neck with kisses, making me giggle since I was ticklish. His mouth glided down the valley of my breasts to the place where I needed him the most.

His head buried between my thighs as I could feel the cold sensation of his tongue running down my slit causing me to throw my head back in euphoria. The way his tongue skilfully teased my clit, drawing figure 8’s onto it, sending me over the edge until I came trickling down made me want to scream at the top of my lungs. He didn’t hesitate in pushing in two figures into my core as he finger fucked me, causing my eyes to roll at the back of my head.

He switched between slow and sensual to fast and rough, his fingers gliding in and out of my pussy while his tongue worked magic on my clit causing me to slip the loudest moan out of my mouth. He stopped. “Why- why- did you stop?” I huffed.”that’s what you get for being too loud,” he answered, his lips curving into a smirk.

He wasted no time in removing his trousers as the head of his cock hit his stomach. He looped my thighs with his hand, and bought me closer to the edge of the bed. Lining up with my entrance, his dick easily slid into my soaking wet core. His thrusts began of slow as my fingers trailed down to toy with my clit in the process. He started speeding up, his thrusts becoming more rapid as my vision went blurry. Gripping onto his satin bedsheets, he pushed into me one last time before stopping, his cock still buried deep into my core as I grinded a little. “Draco- please don’t stop now,” I whimpered under him. “Why? You think it’s okay to tease me out there when your performing? You think it’s okay to turn me on like that?” The words coming out through his gritted teeth as he tried to resist the desire of pounding into me. “Fuck it,” he cursed under his breathe before pounding into me, fucking my brains out senseless as sweat trickled down the side of his head. “I’m close!” I screamed as I shut my eyes tighter than ever. “LOOK AT ME!” He demanded, almost forcing me to keep the sexual eye contact. One last thrust into my pulsing pussy, caused my back to arch until he loaded himself inside of me.

Slowly withdrawing himself out of me, he knelt back down, his eyes levelled with my core as he watched me ooze out. He went back in one last time cleaning me up with his tongue, giving me overstimulation as my legs quivered. “Malfoy- I cant-,” the feeling almost turning into pain. Giggling to himself, he helped me up as he threw me my clothes.” Get dressed,” he insisted as he himself got dressed too.

Just before leaving his bedroom to go back downstairs, he turned to me once more. “We’ll discuss your next gig soon,” his lips curving into a smirk as he vanished out of the door.

[nerdythebard]

#9: Sypha Belnades [Castlevania]

Happy Castlevania Day, everyone!

We continue our little special with everybody's favourite Speaker, a self-proclaimed enemy of God, and all-around nerd – Sypha Belnades. Wielding magic, knowledge, and somehow keeping Trevor and Alucard in check, it's going to be fun to have her in your D&D game.

Next Time: ...I mean, y'all know who is left. The Cool Whip Man cometh!

So, what do we need to start shooting some spells (besides a lovely Spanish accent)?

Big Brain Time: Sypha is a Speaker, a collector of knowledge, and a walking library with expertise ranging from magic, history, and probably anything you can think of. And even more, because "we know all the words".

A Song of Ice & Fire: These two seems to be Sypha's weapons of choice. We've seen her do other feats of sorcery, but it's usually fire bolts or ice walls we see the most.

Limber! Loose! Rubber Goose!: Sypha doesn't wear any armour and is able to keep up with Trevor and Alucard, both obviously Dexterity-based fighters. If we can't give her some Hit Points, we'll make sure she can avoid danger.

---

Sypha is a Human (hooray, our first Human!) and her magic prowess gives us a good excuse to make her a Variant Human. We get a +1 to two abilities of our choice, let's pick Intelligence and Constitution. We also know Common and one other language, and we get to pick one skill proficiency, let's get Investigation. Variant Humans can also get one feat from the start; War Caster is a great idea for any spellcaster who finds themselves in the heat of battle. We have an advantage on Constitution saving throw to maintain our concentration, we can use somatic components of the spell with just one hand, and when we get to make an attack of opportunity, we can cast a spell instead of making a melee attack.

For Sypha's background, I don't think we can do anything but Sage. We're smart, we've been studying history and arcane arts our entire life, and therefore we get proficiency with Arcana and History. We get to learn two languages of our choice, and we get the Researcher feature; we have a rough idea where a piece of information we're looking for could be located, whether it's a library, archive, or somebody's residence.

ABILITY SCORES

It goes without saying that Intelligence goes first here, we need the smarts for the spells. Next up is Dexterity, we are good enough to keep up with both Trevor and Alucard, and not get easily surprised by night creatures. Constitution is next, every spellcaster needs those precious Hit Points.

Wisdom is next, we're much more the book-smart type, but we've certainly picked up some street-smarts while travelling with our whole clan. Follow that up with Charisma, it's a little lower than I would like it to be, but we occasionally get to make Trevor do what we want to. Finally, we'll be dumping Strength.

CLASS

I think nobody will be surprised if I say this is a pure build. We're going Wizard start-to-finish.

Wizards are the squishiest of squishy bois in D&D, as their Hit Dice is a d6. We start with [6 + our Constitution modifier] Hit Points and no proficiencies with any armour type. We are, however, proficient with daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, and light crossbows. Our saving throws are, of course, Intelligence and Wisdom, and we get to pick two class skills; let's get Insight (to better spot shady activities in towns we visit) and Religion (God may hate us, but you know what they say - know thy enemy).

Level 1 - We start with Arcane Recovery, which is a useful trick to recover spell slots. Once per day, when we finish a short rest, we can refill our expended spell slots. The combined level of the spell slots must be equal to or less than half of our Wizard level... which means for a while we'll be only recovering 1st-level spells...

Since we're a Wizard, we start off with Spellcasting. We know cantrips, ritual casting, and regular spells. Intelligence is our spellcasting ability, and we learn two new spells each time we level up. We start this arcane jamboree with three cantrips:

Fire Bolt lets us hurl a mote of fire at one target. Simple. Effective. On a successful hit, the enemy takes 1d10 fire damage (damage increases as we level up).

Ray of Frost is similar, the basic ice spell. On a successful hit, the target takes 1d8 cold damage (scales with level), and its speed is reduced by 10 feet until the start of our next turn.

Shocking Grasp sends a jolt of electricity through one target we touch. If a target wears armour made of metal, we make the attack roll with advantage. On a successful hit, the target takes 1d8 lightning damage (scales with level) and cannot take reactions until the start of its next turn.

Wizards start with two 1st-level spell slots and six 1st-level spells:

Burning Hands creates a 15-foot cone of fire. All creatures within range have to make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 3d6 fire damage (half damage on a successful save).

Detect Magic lasts for 10 minutes (concentration) and shows us all magical effects within 30 feet of us. We see the magic as colourful aura around objects or people, and we can distinguish which type of magic the effect belongs to (we cannot identify the spell itself).

Frost Fingers creates blasts of cold coming from our fingertips. Each creature within a 15-foot cone must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 2d8 cold damage (half damage on a successful save).

Ice Knife creates a shard of ice that we can throw at one target, dealing 1d10 cold damage on a successful hit. Hit or miss, the shard then explodes, forcing every creature within 5 feet of it to make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 2d6 cold damage.

Mage Armour makes our defence better. Touching a willing creature (or ourselves), we create a layer of magical protection that makes the AC [13 + Dexterity modifier] for 8 hours.

Shield is used as a reaction when we're being hit. The spell adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.

Level 2 - It is here that we pick our subclass, our Arcane Tradition, and since Sypha is such a powerful necromancer, I think it's only natural to–

Yeah, we're obviously picking School of Evocation, as it's the one focusing on the elements. Everything that burns, freezes, and shocks are here, and we need all of it.

We start this subclass with Evocation Savant, which halves our time and gold needed to copy evocation-type spells into our spellbook. I know Speakers don't believe in the written word, but Sypha always valued books, so she would probably have one in D&D.

Sculpt Spells lets us protect our allies from our own spells if they happen to be in their range. When we cast an evocation spell, we can select a number of creatures we can see equal to [1 + the spell's level], make them automatically succeed on a saving throw (if required), and take no damage at all.

For this level's spells:

Feather Fall protects us and our allies from taking fall damage. We choose up to five creatures within 60 feet of us and slow down their descent rate to 60 feet per round for 1 minute. If the creature lands before the spell end, it takes no damage.

Jump triples the jump distance of a creature we touch for 1 minute.

Level 3 - At this level, we get no new class features, but we do unlock 2nd-level spell slots:

Agnazzar's Scorcher creates a 30 feet long and 5 feet wide line of fire, emanating from us in the direction we choose. Each creature within the line must make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 fire damage (half damage on a successful one).

Gust of Wind makes a strong line of wind (60 feet long, 10 feet wide) blast from us in the direction we choose. Creatures that start their turn in the line must make a Strength saving throw or be pushed 15 feet away from us. As a bonus action, on each of our turns, we can change the direction of the wind.

Level 4 - We get our first Ability Score Improvement. Rule of thumb for any Wizard player: maxing out your Intelligence should be your priority, therefore we're putting +2 to our Intelligence now.

We also get a new cantrip: Dancing Lights create up to four globules of light, floating in the air. We can move them around, and they last up to 1 minute (concentration). The lights can also combine into a Medium-sized glowing humanoid, for purposes of distraction.

We get two more spells:

Scorching Ray creates three bolts of fire, which we can hurl at up to three targets. We make an attack roll for each bolt. On a hit, the target takes 2d6 fire damage.

Snilloc's Snowball Swarm forms a flurry of snowball-like projectiles in a point of our choice within 90 feet from us. Each creature within a 5-foot-radius sphere from the point must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 3d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 5 - We don't get any new class features here, but we do unlock 3rd-level spells:

Dispel Magic ends any spell of 3rd-level or lower. If a spell is of 4th-level or higher, we must roll a check for our casting ability (DC = 10 + the spell's level). If we use a spell slot of 4th-level or higher, the spell ends automatically, provided the spell slot's level matches or is greater than the spell's.

Fireball is a no-brainer, we had to pick it. Select a point within 150 feet from us. Each creature in a 20-foot-radius sphere must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 8d6 fire damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 6 - We get our first subclass upgrade, Potent Cantrip. If a creature makes a saving throw against our cantrips, they instead take half of the damage. Unfortunately, it's not helpful to us yet. Let's take some more spells:

Fly gives a willing creature flying speed of 60 feet for the duration (10 minutes, concentration). When the spell ends, the target starts falling. We can target more than one creature if we use spell slots of 4th-level or higher.

Lightning Bolt fires off a bolt of electricity in a 100 feet long and 5 feet wide line. Each creature in the line must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 8d6 lightning damage (half as much on a successful save).

Level 7 - Time to unlock 4th-level spell slots:

Control Water lets us manipulate a body of water within 300 feet of us. The spell lasts for 10 minutes (concentration) and we get to select from four different effects (Flood, Part Water, Redirect Flow, and Whirlpool); we can use our action on our turn to change the effect or repeat it.

Wall of Fire creates, well... a wall of fire within 120 feet from us. The wall can be up to 60 feet long, 20 feet high, and 1 foot thick. It lasts for 1 minute (concentration). We can select which way the heat from the fire is facing. When the wall is forming, creatures in its way must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 5d8 fire damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 8 - Time for another ASI. As per the rule of thumb, we need to cap our Intelligence ASAP. So, let's put +2 into it right now. As for our spells at this level:

Dimension Door creates a small spatial opening, which teleports us up to 500 feet in a direction of our choice we can visualize or describe. We can carry objects with us, as long as they don't go over our carrying capacity, and we can bring one willing creature with us.

Ice Storm creates a localized hailstorm in a 20-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder at a point within 300 feet of us. Each creature in the cylinder must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 2d8 bludgeoning damage and 4d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save). Hailstones turn the area into difficult terrain until the end of our next turn.

Level 9 - Nothing new class-wise. We unlock 5th-level spells:

Cone of Cold creates a 60-foot cone of biting cold. Each creature within its range must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 8d8 cold damage (half damage on a successful save). Creatures killed by this spell become frozen statues.

Hold Monster forces a Wisdom saving throw on one non-humanoid creature within 90 feet of us, and inflicts paralysis on a failed save. It lasts for 1 minute (concentration), but the held creature can keep making saving throws at the end of each of its turn to shake off the effect.

Level 10 - Halfway through the build, and we get another subclass upgrade. Empowered Evocation lets us add our Intelligence modifier to one damage roll of every evocation spell we cast. Since most of our repertoire is evocation-type spells, we now have a huge damage boost. For spells that create multiple projectiles (e.g. Scorching Ray), we add our Intelligence modifier only to one projectile.

We also get our final cantrip of this build: Frostbite makes numbing cold appear on one target's skin; they have to make a Constitution saving throw, or suffer 1d6 cold damage and have a disadvantage on the next weapon roll they make before the end of their next turn. Because of our Potent Cantrip feature, this spell always deals damage.

For this level's spells:

Counterspell... yes, I know it's 3rd-level, but we really do need it. Sypha is powerful enough to shut down Dracula's magic. It works similarly to Dispel Magic, but this time it's a reaction to somebody casting a spell, instead of a pre-established magical effect.

Immolation chooses one target within 90 feet of us and deals 8d6 fire damage, provided they fail their Dexterity saving throw (half damage on a successful save). On a failed save, the target is also set on fire for the spell's duration (1 minute, concentration). They shed bright light in a 30-foot radius and must keep making Dexterity saving throws at the end of each of their turns, or take 4d6 fire damage. On a successful save, the spell ends. The fire is magical and cannot be extinguished by non-magical means.

Level 11 - We unlock 6th-level spells here:

Chain Lightning creates an arc of electricity, which hits one target within 150 feet from us. It then splits into three bolts, which hit three closest creatures within 30 feet of the original target. All targets must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d8 lightning damage (half damage on a successful save).

Disintegrate works in a similar manner to Dispel Magic or Counterspell... except it's much more lethal. The spell targets a creature, an object, or a magical effect (such as a barrier made via the Wall of Force spell). A targeted creature must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d6+40 force damage. If their Hit Points are reduced to 0, the target is disintegrated to dust and cannot be brought back, unless via the True Resurrection or Wish spells.

Level 12 - Time for another ASI! Since our Intelligence is already maxed out, let's get our two points into Constitution, for those Hit Points we desperately need.

We get two more 6th-level spells:

Otiluke's Freezing Sphere is basically the ice version of Fireball. It creates a small ice ball in a point within 300 feet from us, which then explodes in a 60-feet-radius sphere. Each creature within the area must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 10d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save). We can also use the ice ball to freeze a body of water up to 6 feet deep and 30 feet square.

Wall of Ice does exactly what it says on the packaging. It creates ten 10x10 ice panels, which we can shape as we wish as long as the panels touch one another. Each panel as the AC of 12 and 30 Hit Points, and even if they're destroyed, they leave freezing air in their place. Creatures moving through the air must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 5d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 13 - Once again, we get no class features, but we do unlock 7th-level spells:

Delayed Blast Fireball is the hand grenade option we need. We can select a point within 150 feet from us and plant a Fireball spell to be activated after 1 minute or if our concentration is broken. The spell creates a fiery explosion within a 20-feet-radius sphere, with the base damage of 12d6 fire. If by the end of our turn, the spell is not detonated, the damage increases by 1d6 each turn.

Prismatic Spray creates eight colourful lights and sends them out in a 60-foot cone. Each creature within range must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, we roll a 1d8 and decide which colour hits the creature. We have a choice between 10d6 elemental damage, blindness, paralysis, or two effects at once.

Level 14 - Here we get our final subclass upgrade, Overchannel. Once per long rest, when we cast a spell of level 1 through 5, we can decide to deal the maximum amount of damage that spell allows. If we choose to use this feature again before finishing a long rest, we suffer 2d12 necrotic damage per every level of the spell. Each time we use it after the second, the necrotic damage increases by 1d12.

We continue with 7th-level spells:

Teleport instantly teleports us and up to eight willing creatures (or one object) to any location we specify, depending on the degree of familiarity we have with it. The certain success is if there is a permanent Teleportation Circle in the location we want to appear, or if we have something associated with the location.

Whirlwind creates a violent wind storm in a point we can see within 300 feet of us. The whirlwind is a 10-foot-radius, 30-foot-high cylinder. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), we can use our Action to move the whirlwind up to 30 feet in any direction. Creatures that begin their turn in a whirlwind must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d6 bludgeoning damage (half damage on a successful save). In addition, a Large or smaller creature must make a Strength saving throw or be restrained inside the vortex.

Level 15 - Time for 8th-level spells:

Antipathy/Sympathy works as a repellent or... whatever the... opposite of a repellent... is. Attractor? It draws or pushes from us creatures of our specification for 10 days.

Control Weather changes weather patterns in 5 mile radius from us for up to 8 hours (concentration). We must be outdoors when performing the spell, and we can select precipitation, temperature, and the state of winds.

Level 16 - For this ASI this time, we'll put two points into Dexterity.

As for this level's spells:

Incendiary Cloud creates a 20-foot-radius sphere of smoke and embers in a point within 150 feet of us. When the cloud appears, creatures inside it must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d8 fire damage (half damage on a successful save). The same saving throw must be made by a creature who enters the cloud, or who ends its turn there.

Power Word: Stun work on creatures with 150 Hit Points of fewer and stuns them instantly. All those months of travel with Trevor turned us into quite a sailor-mouth, even night creatures are shocked.

Level 17 - Since Wizards are the Apex of the Arcane, we unlock the most powerful spells in the game right here!

Foresight gives a creature we touch a limited ability to see into the future for 8 hours. For that duration, the target cannot be surprised, and has an advantage on all rolls (attack, skill checks, and saving throws). Additionally, other creatures have a disadvantage against the target on all rolls for the duration.

Imprisonment requires a lot of materials, but it creates a permanent magical confinement that holds a one creature that fails its Wisdom saving throw. The imprisoned creature is being kept in suspended animation, and no Divination-type spell can locate it.

Level 18 - Here we get the Spell Mastery feature. It lets us choose one 1st-level spell and one 2nd-level spell, and cast them at will, without the need to burn a spell slot. Shield and Scorching Ray would be my picks.

Meanwhile, in the 9th-level spell section:

Gate is a portal spell, which creates two linked portals; one in front of us (within 60 feet), other in a location on another plane of existence. It lasts for 1 minute (concentration). We could also name a creature we know is on another plane, and yank it through the portal to our current location (for example, a certain Vampire Lord from Hell).

Meteor Swarm makes it rain fire from above. Choosing a spot within 1 mile, lets us cover a 40-foot-radius sphere in Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire! Each creature within the sphere must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 20d6 fire damage and 20d6 bludgeoning damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 19 - For our final ASI, we increase our Constitution.

As for the spells:

Prismatic Wall creates an opaque wall 90 feet long, 30 feet high, and 1 inch thick. The wall sheds bright light for 100 feet and a dim light for additional 100. Creatures within 20 feet of the wall must make a Constitution saving throw, or be blinded for 1 minute. The wall is composed of seven layers, each with different properties that affect creatures attempting to pass through it (see: Prismatic Spray for comparison).

Invulnerability makes you immune to all damage for 10 minutes (concentration).

Level 20 - Our capstone is the Signature Spell feature. We choose two 3rd-level spells, and make it so we always have them prepared. We can cast them once per short or long rest without burning a spell slot. Fireball is an obvious choice, and let's add either Dispel Magic or Counterspell. Both provide good support.

For our final spells:

Blade of Disaster creates a planar rift shaped like a blade. When we summon it, we can make two melee attacks on creatures or objects within 5 feet of the blade. On a successful hit, the target takes 4d12 force damage. This spell scores a critical hit when rolling 18, 19, or 20. On a critical hit, the blade deals extra 8d12 force damage. Think of the weird glass-like blades from Doctor Strange

Wish... Yes, we're getting Wish. Why wouldn't you get Wish? If used safely, it's the ultimate spell. It replicates the effect of any spell of 8th-level or lower, no need for material components or class affiliation. Alternatively, it can do... well, anything you desire, but keep in mind if it's used for something else than replicating a spell effect, there is a 33% you'll never cast it again.

---

And that is it. Sypha Belnades, the Avatar Speaker Magician. Let's see what we've got:

First of all, we've got damage. Damage on top of damage on top of more damage. We're very battlefield-oriented spellcaster. Unfortunately, most of our spells are fire and cold, two very common resistances or immunities. We have a lot of concentration spells, so we need to pick what we want to do. With 131 Hit Points on average, we're also squishy. Luckily, with Shield as our at will spell, we do have a pretty good AC.

---

And that is it! Join me next time, for the last member of the Castlevania OT3!

- Nerdy out!

[succubusphan]

Only Phans

Summary: Dan was enjoying his new sex toy as he watches Phil's new PPV video when he got an intriguing DM.

Rating: E

Tags: Thirst trapping, Phil is a YouTuber with an OnlyFans, Dan is one of his best clients. There is smut but it's brief since it's not the point of the fic.

Word Count: 1k

A/n: This is part of my project 100 fics: I'm posting 7 fics before April 22nd so that my OSPBB fic can be my 100th story posted. I don't have them written so this could fail but I'm pretty set on it, so I hope to do it. PS: I wrote pretty late so I'm sure there are mistakes but I'll catch them in the morning.

Read on ao3

Dan set a few pillows against his bed frame and settle down on them, excitement running through his naked body. His new sex toy had arrived the day before, it was a bulky contraption consisting of a plastic base with handles at its side and a space to place a fleshlight in and get a nice automated wank. His skin had been itching to try it out but he had saved his first ride for Phil’s weekly pay per view DM. Dan was one of his top fans so he was on a special list, or so had Phil said. As soon as he got the OnlyFans notification, he lubed his cock and his favourite fleshjack before attaching it to the device. The idea of a machine that could move your fleshjack on your cock was both weird and amazing, so before letting it anywhere near his junk, he flipped the switch and watched it move up and down, playing around with the speed and the depth of the stroke. He was going to enjoy this.

With a huge smile on his face, Dan lowered the toy onto his cock, grabbed his Vr headset and pressed play on the video as he turned the 'Universal Launch' on. His brain couldn’t choose what to focus on, his cock was being stroked in a way that was making him drool he was watching Phil’s new video which was a fucking treat. It was honestly the best 150 pounds he had ever invested, the video was a pov of Phil sucking cock and looking straight into his eyes. Dan could only dream of that ever happening to him, having those gorgeous pink lips wrapped around his cock and sucking him dry, he moaned, he would die a happy man.

Dan’s legs shook as he came way too fast, but it didn’t bother him since he had nobody to impress but himself.

He turned off the toy and slowly pulled it off his cock, his come dripping all over his chest in the process. He set it aside along with the Vr headset and didn’t bother moving to clean anything up just yet. A long and happy sigh escaped his lips as he thought back to the ongoing conversation he had with Phil, he wouldn’t dare say he and Phil had a thing; that would be silly. Phil just enjoyed the attention and money that came from his sex work. To him, this was a very lucrative hobby, not a relationship. God, Dan would love to pretend it was, but he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t even Phil’s main job; he was quite a popular Youtuber.

Sometimes Dan wished he was rich. Then, he would feel more confident to pursue Phil outside of their little chats. If he had the money to spoil Phil rotten he would. He would give it all away for him. Was it possible to fall in love with someone you’ve never met? Probably not. That’s why he never mentioned Phil to his therapist. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression of the situation. It’s not like he was some sort of pervert chasing after his favourite star…

He scrambled to remove the headset when he heard the OnlyFans notification. It was a DM from Phil.

Only Phans:

How did you like my video?

Danjh91:

I loved it. You looked so beautiful in it.

Only Phans:

Just beautiful?

Danjh91:

Fine, it was hot. I came in like two minutes like a freaking teenager.

Only Phans:

Show me.

Danjh91:

I don’t think I can send you pictures here.

Only Phans:

I know you follow me on Twitter. I’ll follow you back so you can DM me.

Dan looked around himself, his bed was a mess, he was a mess. Did he really want to show Phil how nasty he looks?

His phone dinged, letting him know that Phil had followed him.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuckity fuck. Uuuuummm.” Dan cursed as he opened his front camera and tried to arrange his curls into somewhat of a more decent style, but his state was unsalvagable. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do this, not because he didn’t want to DM Phil a nude but because his self-esteem was not doing great. Phil was an absolute God with everything in its right place and a massive cock. What did he have to offer?

Phil Lester

Hey Dan. Do you have some juicy pictures for me?

Daniel Howell:

I look… not great right now.

Phil Lester:

Great. Show me the mess you made because of the video I sent you. If you want, that is.

Daniel Howell:

Ok, give me a sec.

He laid back against the mountain of pillows he’d been resting on and angled his phone so his flushed face, sweaty and come covered chest and his soft cock were in the frame before taking a few pictures. He briefly wondered if he should attempt to add a dirty message but he felt stupid even thinking about what to say.

Daniel Howell:

(Image)

Phil Lester:

Fuck! Do you wanna meet up?

Dan dropped his phone and cursed as it landed right on his nose.

Daniel Howell:

What? Really?

Phil Lester:

Yeah. I mean, would you be interested in shooting something with me for my account?

Daniel Howell:

Hmm. I don’t know. I’m not sure I would like everyone to see me naked.

Phil Lester:

What if it was just me?

Daniel Howell:

Is this really happening?

Phil Lester:

Yes, unless I read this all wrong and you don’t want to.

Daniel Howell:

No! No! I would love to meet you. What would I need to do for that?

I’m not rich.

Phil Lester:

I’m not charging you…

Daniel Howell:

Then, would you like to go out for a coffee before that? I would like to get to know you a bit. If that’s ok.

Phil Lester:

Actually, that sounds perfect. Are you free now?

Daniel Howell:

Let me have a shower and I’ll meet you at Trafalgar square, by the fountain.

Phil Lester:

Ok, see you there in one hour.

Dan smiled. This was going to be an amazing day.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #112: Shuten-Douji

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the ASMR oni and boss of Mount Ooe, Shuten-Douji! Spirits, Poisons, and Being an Oni will be yours to command with this build!

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: What is this, 8 Bit Theater?

Race and Background

Shuten is a demon, but the closest thing we can get in D&D is the half demon Tiefling. As a child of Fierna you’ll find yourself very persuasive thanks to the free Friends cantrip you get as part of your Legacy of Phlegethos. You also get +1 Dexterity (thanks to Tasha’s) and +2 Charisma, Hellish Resistance to fire damage, and Darkvision. 

Giving Shuten a human-based background is a challenge, but you certainly act the part of the criminal more often than not. This gives you Deception and Stealth proficiencies.

Ability Scores

Make your Charisma as high as possible- there’s definitely something charming about you, given that golden kid keeps hanging around you despite rising odds of decapitation. Speaking of, make Constitution your next stop. Getting your head taken off does a lot of damage, and you have to be able to survive that. Your Dexterity should also be pretty good- you don’t wear much of anything, and yet you’ll probably want to live. Your Strength isn’t too bad- Oni generally have good strength, we just needed other stuff more. You’re not stupid, but Intelligence wasn’t high on the list, and finally, dump Wisdom. You take a shot every time you use your NP, that can’t be good for your wisdom saves.

Class Levels

1. Sorcerer 1: Oni don’t play by the rules, and neither do we. We’re making Shuten a Toxomancer, a class that didn’t exist before now, and whose existence is based on Plane Shift material, making its existence even more dubious. (For anyone wondering, it’s based on the Pyromancer class from Plane Shift Kaladesh, just with everything Fire replaced by Poison instead.) This gives you proficiency in Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Insight and Persuasion. You certainly know how to run a party, at least.

Like all sorcerers, you can cast Spells thanks to your Charisma, which is your casting ability. Unlike most sorcerers, you come packing a Heart of Poison; whenever you cast a 1st level or higher spell that deals poison damage, creatures of your choice within 10′ of you take half your sorcerer level (minimum 1) in poison damage. So your aim’s a little off when you pour, you’re not hearing any complaints!

As far as cantrips go, grab Infestation because why not, it’s poison damage, Acid Splash and Poison Spray for more thematic damage dealing, and Shape Water to control your drink after it’s been poured. For spells, you can cast Mage Armor to help not die and Ray of Sickness to sling drinks around at a farther range.

2. Fighter 1: Don’t worry, we’re not getting too crazy with multiclassing this time. We’re just here for sword skills and Unarmed Fighting. You can literally rip people’s organs out with your bare hands, you should at least be good at punching people. You can also use a Second Wind for a bit of healing as a bonus action once per short rest. There’s always time for a drink break.

3. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers become a Font of Magic, giving you Sorcery Points that can be turned into spell slots and vice versa. Thanks to your Legacy of Phlegethos, you can also cast Charm Person once per long rest as a second level spell, forcing up to two humanoids to make a wisdom save (DC 8+proficiency bonus+charisma modifier) or be charmed by you until the spell ends in an hour or you do anything harmful to it. Slapping people sobers them up- don’t do it.

You can also cast Tasha’s Caustic Brew this level, throwing acidic drinks as long as you can keep your concentration up (for a minute), which clings to enemies until they wash it off. Wine stains, am I right?

4. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers can use Metamagic to change up their spells at the cost of sorcery points. Specifically, you can use Heightened Spell to give your enemies disadvantage on their sobriety saving throws, or Extended Spell to keep the party going even longer.

Speaking of, at this level you can break out the cheap hooch by casting Blindness/Deafness, mostly the former.

5. Sorcerer 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to round up your Charisma and add a bit to your Constitution as well. You also get one last gift from your Legacy, letting you cast Suggestion once per long rest as well. This lets you charm a creature that fails a wisdom saving throw, forcing them to perform an activity that isn’t obviously harmful within or for the next 8 hours. Once again, don’t hit them.

Speaking of spells, this level lets you cast Sword Burst because you’re not going to be good with physical attacks for a while and Enhance Ability to imbue yourself or others with oni strength, giving them advantage on strength checks. (Or dexterity, constitution, intelligence...)

6. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers can find Magical Guidance in their magical powers, letting you re-roll a failed ability check if you spend a sorcery point. You also learn how to cast Sweet-Smelling (Stinking) Cloud, a 20′ radius cloud that obscures the area, and forces all creatures in it to make a constitution saving throw each turn. Those who fail waste their turn in a drunken stupor.

7. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level Toxomancers have Poison in the Veins, meaning you resist poison damage, and your poison spells ignore resistance. Your wine gets sweeter, and you can still get high on your own supply! You can also cast Hypnotic Pattern now, which is roughly the same as Stinking Cloud, but there’s only one chance to get charmed.

8. Sorcerer 7: Seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells, like Conjure Shadow Demon. I’ll level with you- I was really hoping we could get Contingency later so you could summon a demon upon your own death for a funky sort of guts, but Wizards just had to be special and keep it for themselves. You can always just say you’re bringing Ibaraki along for some fun.

9. Sorcerer 8: Use this ASI to grab the Poisoner feat. It lets you ignore poison resistance on all damage rolls, not just spells, you can poison blades faster, and you can make potent poisons with a poisoner’s kit, which let your weapons deal extra poison damage and poison the target for a turn.

You can also cast Confusion to throw your enemies into further disarray.

10. Sorcerer 9: Use your first 5th level spell slots to grab Cloudkill for a wine powerful enough to melt people, dealing 5d8 poison damage to any creature that fails its constitution save in the cloud.

11. Sorcerer 10: For your next Metamagic option, grab Subtle Spell. You’re not very loud in general. You can also cast Prestidigitation, because we’re running out of good cantrips, and you can make good on that “drinking people” threat with Enervation! If the target fails a dexterity save, they take 4d8 necrotic damage, and you gain hp equal to half the damage taken. For the next minute (with concentration) you can automatically deal the damage each round as an action.

12. Sorcerer 11: Now that you have sixth level spell slots, you can cast Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise, turning you into a proper oni! While it’s active, you’re Immune to fire and poison damage, as well as the poisoned condition. You get +2 AC and can attack twice as an action, plus your weapon attacks are magical and you can use charisma instead of strength for the attack and damage rolls. (You also get a flying speed, and there’s an upper planes version, but shush.)

13. Sorcerer 12: Use this ASI to max out your Charisma for the most oniing an oni can oni!

14. Sorcerer 13: For your seventh level spell, grab Power Word Pain to get one creature with less than 100 HP severely drunk. Each turn they’re charmed, they can only move 10 feet per turn, and has disadvantage on all attacks, checks, and non-constitution saves. Every time they try to cast a spell, they have to pass a constitution save first, or waste the spell. At the end of each turn they can try to pass a constitution save to end the effect.

15. Sorcerer 14: You’ve become so infused with alcohol that when you get hit wine pops out, like a boozy piñata. Thanks to Toxomancer’s Fury, you can react to taking a melee hit to deal your level in poison damage to the attacker, ignoring any resistance. 

16. Sorcerer 15: Your drinks get even more potent thanks to your eighth level spell Power Word Stun. This instantly stuns a creature with 150 hit points or less, and it stays that way unless it can pass a constitution save at the end of its turn. Feel free to hit this one, they won’t feel it until the morning.

17. Sorcerer 16: Odd numbers make us sad, so use this ASI to round up your constitution with Durable. Now each hit die is guaranteed to give you twice your constitution modifier. Given that means you’re getting at least a 6 on a d6, that’s pretty good.

18. Sorcerer 17: For your last Metamagic grab Empowered Spell, why not. Your drinks are already so potent they can instantly kill a human thanks to Power Word Kill, which can kill any target with less than 100 hp.

19. Sorcerer 18: You’re now so steeped in wine it’s soaked into your very essence. Your Poisonous Soul makes you immune to poison damage. Any spell or effect you create also ignores poison resistance and treats poison damage immunity as poison resistance. I would definitely argue that this would include any poisons made from your poisoner’s kit, because who doesn’t love a little boozing? (I should point out this means you’ve got wine strong enough to give Jing Ke a buzz.)

20. Sorcerer 19: Use your final ASI to grab the Tough feat for 40 extra HP. Not the flashiest way to end a build, but at least it’s not sorcerous restoration.

Pros: 

Poison might be a common resistance/immunity, but you can eat through those defenses and deal with them as they come up.

Your charms and poisons alike give you great crowd control options, in both lethal and nonlethal flavors. You can shut down an angry mob you want to reason with thanks to Stinking Cloud or Hypnotic Pattern, or just slaughter them all with Cloudkill!

With almost 200 HP, features that rely on close range and getting hit, and Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise, you can hop onto the front line for a bit to give your regular tank a rest- at least for a round or two.

Cons:

You can get around resistances later, but your early levels still have you relying on Poison and Acid damage for most of your attacks. Like I said above, you’re still relying on the most resisted/immune to damage type in the game.

Unlike your poison, your other spells never get any less resisted. Tasha’s Caustic Brew is one of your most efficient damage spells from level 3 until level 10. Or at least it would be, if it wasn’t for being acid based.

Your Low Wisdom means you might fall for someone else’s charms as easily as they fall for your own. Suddenly being a tough, poison-spewing demon isn’t a good thing. Ah well, there’s always next party.

[not-poignant]

I think it's so amazing, how you write and you put it online for other people to enjoy. I mean, I know it's your job now, but at first it was your hobby that you did for yourself (and still is, I hope) and it's so cool that you can produce something that brings so much joy into others lives. Almost a symbiotic relationship. (1/2)

Be that as it may, please take care of yourself, Pia. I know it's very important to you to stick to your schedule, but your health is important too! And I know I speak for everyone when I say that we'd rather you take care of yourself first, even if that means a hiatus. I'm sorry if I come off as patronizing, I know you can take care of yourself! I just want you to know that we'll understand if you need to take a break after writing half a million words in like two months (!!!)

***

Okay okay it’s not half a million words yet! I haven’t even hit half a million for the year yet! (I will this month x.x).

(Also is it weird that I also think of it as a symbiotic relationship? I really do. Fandom has taught me about the joy of like, the collaboration that happens between writers and readers - both as a writer and a reader - and it’s something I love so much).

In good news though, I’m actually going to be taking five days off from the scheduled writing. I’ll still be working on Falling Falling Stars if I feel like it, but starting from probably Tuesday or Wednesday, it’s five consecutive days since I hit my monthly minimum wordcount so early. Tbh I’m really looking forward to it. I’m going to play Hades, and probably do some Inktober stuff.

I still think of fanfiction as my hobby actually, and I’m really glad to do it. Fanfiction isn’t my job, even if original fiction is. And fanfiction helps keep me sane. But I have other hobbies too, like cross-stitch, gaming, gardening (when I have the spoons), art, piano etc.

Unfortunately I am kind of doggedly obligated to my schedule (for no other reason than that’s the kind of person I am, not because anyone is making me feel this way). I am a sick person raised by a workaholics, who is a workaholic myself, and I see a therapist about it, because it’s why I’m a lot sicker overall. Hence the five day break! <3333

You didn’t come off as patronising at all, honestly. Like if I felt like I was hanging in there and doing well, I’d just say so, but while I’m still super enjoying the writing, I’m needing to sleep a lot at the moment, and I’m having X-Rays this week because the arthritis in my hands has hit an ‘oh shit’ level. So yeah, a break is due! I’ve been lax on my breaks since July, but no I’m absolutely taking it this week, and it’s gonna be great :D

[icasttourniquet]

Can Your Character Survive... Avalanches?

Alternative title: why your character who lives in the mountains should be more scared of avalanches than they currently are.

What's an avalanche?

Avalanches are large masses of snow that speed down mountainsides, carrying humans with them. There are a number of different types of avalanches, depending on who you ask. Let's look at a few:

Wet Snow Avalanche

These avalanches are relatively safe, as far as avalanches go. They travel slower than their dry counterparts (10 to 20 miles per hour) and are harder to trigger. However, wet snow is often a good deal heavier than dry snow, so getting buried in it is still inadvisable. 

Sluffs

Sluffs are dry avalanches composed of the top layer of powder moving downwards. They occur when the weak layer of snow is on top as opposed to underneath, and they are far less dangerous than the opposite, a slab avalanche.

Slab Avalanche

(Or, as I cannot help but say in my head every time I read about them: Slabalanches.)

A slab avalanche occurs when the weak layer of snow is on the bottom. When an avalanche is triggered, the weak layer separates from the slope and carries with it the stronger, more cohesive snow on top of it in a slab. 

Slabs are typically about the size of a football field and more than a foot deep. They can reach speeds of 20 miles per hour within three seconds, 80 miles per hour within six seconds, and max speeds in excess of 150 miles per hour. 

Hidden by more compact snow, the weak layer can lie in wait for days or months until something heavy (say, a human) triggers it loose. To make them even deadlier, the break often occurs above whatever triggers it, meaning the victim is already on the slab when it starts to speed down the slope.

How do avalanches kill you?

In the words of Shakespeare, let me count the ways. (spoiler: there are two).

Asphyxiation

In a study in Utah, 85% of avalanche fatalities died of asphyxiation alone. This is likely because humans cannot breathe snow [citation needed].

Once an avalanche gets going, the snow behaves sort of like water, and any humans trapped in it sink. However, unlike water, when the avalanche stops moving, it hardens, leaving the sunken human entombed in concrete-hard snow—this snow sometimes also hardens in the victim's lungs, with predictable consequences. It is essentially impossible for a fully buried human to dig themselves out of an avalanche—most victims won't even be able to move their limbs. It is now a race against time: can rescuers dig them out before they run out of air?

To make matters worse, human breath is hotter than snow. As the trapped human exhales, they melt a small pocket of snow around their face, which then refreezes as far-less-permeable ice. Any chance of breathing through the snow pack has now disappeared.

Source: A concept for optimizing avalanche rescue strategies using a Monte Carlo simulation. (And you know a paper is good when they're whipping out the Monte Carlo simulations).

After only about 20 minutes, a buried victim has less than a 50% chance of survival. Avalanche rescues are all about time time time. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Blunt force trauma

In the remaining 15% of cases, that same Utah study found that blunt force trauma was involved in the death. This hopefully makes sense, given how fast, heavy, and large avalanches are.

In some terrains, avalanches can take helpless victims through a "sieve." Let's say you had to be dragged down a slope at 150 miles per hour. In the picture below, which slope would you prefer: A? Or B?

Hopefully, you said B. While being dragged anywhere at high speeds is undesirable, at least B is empty. A is a sieve, and anyone swept through those trees would be lucky not to hit at least a couple of them.

Avalanche Likelihood

According to Bruce Temper's Staying Alive in Avalanche Terrain, 9 out of 10 avalanche victims trigger the avalanche that kills them. That means your character has a lot to do with whether or not they die.

Since we are are all authors here, let's design the scenario most likely to kill a character.

Avalanche-friendly conditions

There has been a recent, dramatic change in weather (storm to no storm, hot to cold, cold to hot, etc.).

The slope is between 30 and 45 degrees steep (contrary to popular belief, steeper does not automatically make an avalanche more likely). Side note: humans are rubbish at judging slope, so a modern-day experienced backcountry explorer will likely have her clinometer on her.

The slope faces north. These slopes get less sunlight in the winter (in the Northern Hemisphere), which makes the slow less 'sticky' and more unstable.

The slope is wind-loaded or beneath a cornice. If a cornice falls, it can trigger an avalanche above you, which is the worst place for an avalanche to be.

It has recently snowed (or is currently snowing!).

It's been windy recently.

Risky character traits

Your character doesn't know the area well.

Your character is a man (assuming the story takes place on Earth, where 92% of avalanche fatalities are men).

Your character is in a group that wants to press forwards.

Your character is overcommitted—they need to get to their destination, fast.

They are convinced they are an expert, or that someone in their group is.

Other people have gone down that slope already, which makes your character sloppy. Unfortunately, avalanches don't always trigger when the first person touches them.

Ironically, a slope that no one has gone down is also dangerous due to "powder fever," or the delight some skiers feel when they see an untouched slope and stop doing risk assessments.

High consequence locales

In the sections above, I discussed risk, or the likelihood that a bad thing (avalanche) occurs. Potential consequences also matter—it is safer to engage in high risk activities in places where the consequences are low, like rock climbing without ropes one foot off the ground.

How to make your avalanche as high consequence as possible?

Your character is alone. Recall that at 2 hours, the likelihood of surviving an avalanche has fallen to 20%. If your character is alone, what is the chance anyone notices they're missing within 2 hours, let alone they get to the exact slope where they're buried in that time?

The landscape has a lot of rocks or trees, making blunt force trauma likely.

The bottom of the slope is a crevasse or river bed or narrows as it goes down. This is because it takes time to dig someone out of an avalanche, even after you find them, so the deeper your character is buried, the more likely they are to die.

Avalanche Rescue

The worst has happened: one of your characters has been swept away in an avalanche and buried. Now what?

If we want a 50% chance of survival we have 20 minutes to 1) find the victim and 2) dig them out.

Immediately, your character's friends, who are, of course, avalanche rescue experts, leap into action. Having determined the slope is safe, they get to wherever the avalanche ended as fast as possible and commence a search.

Before launching into a search pattern, bystanders probe areas there friend has a high likelihood of being in. This means probing around any equipment they see sticking out of the snow (ski, glove, hat, etc.) and especially around any limbs (if the buried person is sticking a hand above ground and waving, start there). They also check around protruding objects like rocks, where their friend may have gotten stuck.

Source.

Probing means sticking a ski pole or some other long object into the ground at a 90 degree angle in the hopes that you poke the buried person. 

Source. *poke* "Ouch!"

A note on pole length: six feet should be adequate. It is both rare to be buried deeper than six feet and essentially impossible to rescue someone six feet under before they die.

Let's say your characters probe all the likely areas and find nothing. Now what?

Beacon search

What is an avalanche beacon? Basically, beacons are small devices you can carry into avalanche country that help you find your friend, or your friends find you, if one of you gets caught.

Example of an avalanche beacon. Source.

Avalanche beacons have two modes: "send," which sends out a signal, and "search," which looks for a signal. The idea is, everyone on your team has what is essentially a GPS tracker on them. If one gets buried, the others can use their beacons to triangulate the position fast enough to, hopefully, do a fine search in the correct area before the buried person is dead.

If the bystanders in your plot have beacons, they switch them to "search" mode. (It is tragically common for people who carry beacons, but don't practice with them often, to commence an excellent search pattern while their beacons are still projecting their location instead of searching for the location of their friend.)

The video above shows an example of a search pattern with one rescuer. The more rescuers, the faster the search, and the more likely the buried victim is to survive. The picture below shows some multi-rescuer search patterns.

Search patterns based on the number of searchers. Source.

Beacon-less search

What if your characters don't have beacons? First of all, they had better be in a world without beacons, because there isn't really a good excuse to be caught in an avalanche without one. Even if you are skiing alone, because beacons are interoperable, you might as well carry one to help out any potential rescuers.

But let's say your character lives in pre-industrial avalanche country so we can't judge their decisions too hard. Now what?

Assuming the victim's hand isn't sticking out of the ground and waving for help, your rescuers are stuck doing a probe search everywhere. This involves sticking a long pole in the ground every 1.5 feet or so in a spiral or grid pattern and hoping you poke your friend before they die.

Source

A spiral search may be easier with only one rescuer.

Source

If there are a ton of bystanders ready to rescue the buried victim, they can get regimented about it, setting up lines and moving in interlocking grid patterns to search the largest area possible in the shortest amount of time.

DIG

The rescuers have successfully poked the buried victim. The next step is simple: DIG.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJbnc4MjylI (no more embedded videos allowed :sad face:)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGQg9o3vAkM

Medical Care

Ideally, your bystanders dig the head out first, since this is the body part with all the important bits in it. My WFR instructor recommended starting Positive Pressure Ventilation (PPV—the thing you see in movies with the plastic mask and bag that EMTs squeeze to help someone breathe) immediately after rescue unless the victim protests loudly. This can clear snow out of the lungs and in general help them maintain oxygenation.

As other body parts get uncovered, treat what you see.

How to Show Your Character is a Pro

They dig a trench before going out too far. This allows you to see the layers of snow and judge how likely an avalanche is.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcXogVHecFQ

They test snow density by trying to poke through it with a knee, hand, finger, and knife.

They might also intentionally knock a cornice over to see if it triggers an avalanche (this is done from a safe distance).

And finally, they consider walking above someone on a dangerous slope attempted murder.

Conclusion

The best way to survive an avalanche is to avoid being caught in one. Barring that...

We at ICT recommend your character carry a beacon, be in relatively safe territory, and have a flock of friends available for rescue purposes.

[rigelmejo]

Articles on Learning Languages by Reading

Learn Language Through Reading: https://linguapath.com/learn-language-through-reading/

Love this article. It includes info from Paul Nation’s research.

I refer to Paul Nation’s 2014 corpus-based study, in which he calculated the amount of input necessary to learn the most frequent 9000 words.1 Here are his findings:

Let’s imagine that you already know the first 2000 most frequent words. In this case, you would have to read just about 300 000 words (or 3 books) to pick up another thousand words at the 3000-level.2

For a rough estimate: 120,000 words is roughly 240 pages in english. this will equal one “token” from the table above.

For comparison (see this article https://chinese.stackexchange.com/questions/1685/for-magazines-or-books-how-much-does-text-volume-differ-when-comparing-chines) “An average result will be that 1,000 Chinese characters can be translated into about 600-700 English words, or 1,000 English words can be translated into about 1,500-1,700 Chinese characters, varying depending on the natures of the source contents and target writing styles. “ (this is what they referenced https://www.actranslation.com/chinese/chinese-wordcount.htm).

So 120,000(.7)=84,000 chinese words per ‘token.’ 

Or “or each 1000 English words will be translated into about 1500-1700 Chinese characters“ (https://www.actranslation.com/chinese/chinese-wordcount.htm).  So 120,000 english words, will mean 120,000*1.6= 192,000 chinese characters per ‘token.’

So, if I know the word count or character count of a novel, I can estimate how many novels/characters it will take to get to X level. 

---

(I’ve read 69, 315 characters of guardian so far, that’s the length of first arc)

163,913 characters as of sundial arc.

53 chapters of guardian is ~191,000 characters.

54 chapters of guardian is ~195,000 characters. One chapter on average about ~3600 characters.

So since guardian is about twice that amount of chapters (106 plus extras), the whole novel would be ‘2 tokens’ and count as that much.

So I would estimate, at least in priest’s novel length, every 53-54 or so would count as 1 token on the table above.

For future reference, that’s about 20-21 pages per chapter in Pleco for on average ~3600 characters.

I’d guess a 10 page chapter in pleco to be half that number of characters, 1800 characters. So for those ‘shorter’ chaptered novels, I would need 106 chapters to reach ‘1 token.’ (192,000/1800).

---

Out of curiosity, I’ve read 66 chapters of hanshe at 10 pleco pages each, 66*1800= 118,800 characters. 

Plus how much I’ve read of Guardian, 69,315+118,800= 188,115

Plus Xiao Wangzi, and the chapters of Tamendegushi I’ve read,  14,718 （小王子）19*1800=34,200（他们的故事)

188115+14718+34200= 237,033 is at least how many chinese characters I’ve read so far (I’ve also read a few chapters of various things but didn’t count them well).

237,033/192,000= ~1.23 ‘tokens.’ 

And, if I want to go easy on myself? I literally re-read the sundial arc a second and third time ToT (because I really love Guardian).

So I may well be at: Read sundial arc twice: 188115+14718+34200+69315= 306,348 or 1.59 tokens. Read sundial arc three times: 188115+14718+34200+(69315*2)=375,663 or 1.96 tokens.

***So I might be in the ‘learning the 3000 most common words’ section that is going to take 576,000 more characters to get through. which is 160 more priest-novel 20-pleco-page chapters, or 320 more 10-pleco-page chapters. 

Qi Ye ~79 chapters (~284,400 characters, 1.48 tokens) , Tian Ya Ke ~81 chapters (~291,600 characters, 1.51 tokens), Mo Du ~185 chapters (~ 666,000 characters, 3.46 tokens).

So: Qi Ye + Tian Ya Ke = finishing 3000-level (or just Reading Mo Du on its own).

---

From the article, it summarizes that to learn all 9000 common words in a language from reading: This equals to something like 92 books. With the reading speed of 200 words per minutes (which is comfortable enough: I tend to read English at 295 wpm, and English is far from being my native language), it would take you 150 minutes a day (2.5 hours) to process all this beauty in a year.

So I am guessing, if I read 150-200 (unfortunately - but I read a lot of much shorter books when I push into extensive reading), at 30 min to 1.5 hours a day on average, I may get to that point in idk 3 years? 

Also from the article:

Any activity you do in your target language will contribute to that cherished number of 11 million tokens you need to upload to your brain. You may listen to podcasts, watch movies and YouTube, talk to strangers, read magazines, play games… When it comes to vocabulary acquisition, anything goes, seriously.

Diversify your input, and you won’t ever feel bored. But keep in mind that spoken input is often way slower than written. Read a book for two hours and you will process approximately 24 000 words. Spend the same two hours watching a movie and you will get just about 10 000 words3With a typical speech rate for movies of 83 words per minute.4.

So an hour of reading (at speaking speed) is ~12,000 words, 30 minutes is 6,000 words, 15 minutes is 3,000 words (that tracks as Guardian chapters take me 15-20 minutes to read being 3000-4000 characters and I read at around speaking speed).

A movie per hour is 5,000 words. A drama is 40 min, 1/3 of a 120 minute movie, so idk probably on average ~3,333 words per drama episode (watched in target language obviously). 

I’m not counting how much time I spend on those, because who knows, and I obviously spent lots of time listening to the Guardian audiobook (though Idk if this person’s article thinks ‘repeated reading/listening of a single material’ counts as multiple things or not). 

---

The article suggests:  Instead, aim to cover, say, 1000-5000 levels in the first year, 6000-7000 in the next, and gradually work your way through 8000-9000 levels during the following 18 months. This way, you’ll consistently read 20-30 foreign language books a year, which is more than manageable. 

(that’s 15 chinese books in first year, or 2,880,000 characters... I feel like I’ve heard of a book easily that long in chinese... anyway, that would be 15 ‘chunks’ of 54 chapters 20-pleco-pages, or 15 ‘chunks’ of 106 chapters 10-pleco-pages... which for chinese novels typical lengths of ~100 chapters that would mean more like ~7.5 actual novels read total and possibly less if the novels are significantly longer).

---

Another interesting article: https://puroh.it/reading-for-a-fine-vocabulary/

Did a lot of these calculations for me (too bad I didn’t read it first).

They said at about 11.6 million words you will have learned a 35,000 english vocabulary. So 11,600,000*1.6 (the english words to chinese characters scale) = 18,560,000 chinese characters. 18.5 million characters. 

That is ~96 ‘chunks’ of 54 chapters of 20-pleco pages, (or 5155 chapters to reach all 18.5 million words). Because chinese web novels are often 100+ chapters, it would be around ~48 novels at 100-ish chapters each. 

So to get back on track: this article estimates 11.6 million english words to be 137 novels. For chinese, the equivalent would be 18.5 million characters is either ~96 chunks (54 long-chapters) or ~48 novels (100-ish chapter novels). 

48/137= 0.35 so you need to read only .35 the amount of ‘novels’ you’d need to read in english to reach the same level.

In this article, it says 100 books in english would get you to 25,000 words learned. So that would be 100*.35 = 35 (100 chapter) novels read in chinese to get to the same level maybe? And 80 books in english to get to 20,000 words learned, which is 28 (100 chapter) novels read in chinese.

---

I would guess, based on the two articles combined, yeah 28-35 novels read would probably get you to a comfortable reading level, possibly les novels than that.

Things I want to read: hanshe, guardian, modu, sha po lang, can ci pin, poyun, liuli, qi ye, tian ya ke, xin xiao shi yi lang, dao mu bi ji 1-9, dmbj ten years, peach blossom debt, san ye.... that’s 22 novels by name (likely more if i were to count in 100-chapter segments), plus some other novels and fanfic... i think if i just keep following my plan of reading books i want to read i will eventually hit those benchmarks. 

---

Anyway, those articles above are interesting if you’re curious just how many books it may take you to read (or words) to hit certain levels of reading skill in a language.

[rainbow-spiral]

Further Experiments with AccelaReader

Well.  I have been fooling around with AccelaReader as a delivery system for a text induction, using an induction that I specifically wrote to take advantage of the way that AccelaReader delivers the words to you.  I think I got pretty good results, especially considering that I have never had success with a text induction before, but I have to admit that there’s a good chance that part of that is that I spent some time trouble-shooting the format, which meant that I did bits of the text again and again, which may mean that when I finally ran the induction from start to finish, I was already a bit dizzy.

Still.  I’m interested in how this works for other people.  So, if you’re interested in seeing if AccelaReader (or other speed reader aps) can be a hypnosis tool, I’ve put the induction I used under the cut.  I put it at 150 words per minute, which may feel slightly slow, and makes the induction last a little over ten minutes.  (This is much longer than I’ve ever taken to read a text induction.  This may be part of my problem with text inductions.)  Remember to set your screen-saver for fifteen minutes so you don’t get interrupted. (I would also really recommend setting the text and the background color to something other than black text on white, to reduce eyestrain.) If you read through the induction without AccelaReader, you should know that all the repeated words are there to make the reader appear to pause on specific words, since it basically flashes the words at a steady pace without regards to punctuation. There is an option to make it pause for periods, but I didn't like the pause length.

The script itself is mostly about feeling passive, connecting that to feeling peaceful and still.  There’s some language about feeling empty of thought, waiting and accepting what’s shown on the screen.  There’s also some language about how it would be difficult to move if you wanted to, not that you want to, but you’ll be able to move when you need to.  The only suggestions are that you can get back to the state of passive acceptance “with any induction that you choose,” and that you wake up feeling good, and that perhaps some task or activity that seemed daunting before will seem more manageable now.  (That last is there purely because I frequently feel daunted by things.)  There is an awakener.

I’d really like feedback on this thing.  I’d like feedback if the induction or the AccelaReader format works for you, and I’d also like feedback if the induction or the AccelaReader format doesn’t work for you.  Anyhow.  Induction below the cut, formatted specifically to be copy-pasted into AccelaReader.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

It’s an interesting word, isn’t it. it. Originally from the Latin word for peace. peace.  And you are already aware that this is an unusually passive reading experience experience with the word delivered directly to your eyes eyes but had you also thought about how this is an unusually peaceful reading experience?

experience?

experience?

It is very easy, isn’t it, to stare at the spot where the words appear. appear.  To wait wait passively passively peacefully peacefully for the words to arrive.  arrive.  Calm.  Calm.  Pleasant.  Pleasant.  It’s so pleasant to wait, isn’t it? it?  Waiting for the next word.  word.  It will arrive when it arrives, arrives, and you only have to watch, watch, and wait, wait, passively. passively.

And as you watch for the next word word as you passively accept the next word word you may find that your mind feels unusually empty empty waiting for the next word. word. word.  The word on the screen is the only thing on your mind, and it goes away automatically, doesn’t it? it? Replaced by the word after it.  it.  The very same way that your own irrelevant thoughts float out of your mind mind flicker in, flicker out out ephemeral and impermanent impermanent here and then gone.

gone.

gone.

You may notice, at this point, that you are very calm. calm. Peaceful.  Peaceful.  Passive means peaceful.  peaceful. And I would like you to enjoy that peace peace the relaxation of being entirely passive passive letting the words carry you along as they appear and disappear disappear just following following just drifting drifting drifting drifting drifting drifting that’s right.

right.

It feels so nice to drift, drift, doesn’t it? it?  Let yourself drift further.  further.  Let yourself be passive. passive. Let yourself be peaceful.

peaceful.

peaceful.

And you may find the feeling of peace is pervading your entire mind mind your entire body body such that your body feels very relaxed relaxed and it would be difficult to move if you wanted to try try but you don’t want to try, try, do you? you? You are happy, happy, right now, now, being passive. passive.  You know that you will be able to move again when you need to. to.  You are content in this knowledge.  knowledge. Action belongs to future you. you. Present you is passive.

passive.

passive.

It is time to enjoy being passive. passive. To experience being passive.

passive.

passive.

passive.

passive.

passive.

passive.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

The thing about being passive is that you accept what you see.  see.  You accept what you read.  read.  These words fall directly into your mind, mind, unfiltered. unfiltered.  To be passive, passive, to be peaceful, peaceful, is also to accept.  accept.  So when I tell you that the feeling of peace is growing, growing, you accept it. it.  And you can feel that feeling of peace growing, growing, can’t you? you?  It feels good to let the words on the screen lead you, you, to let them drip into your passive mind, mind, taking you deeper and deeper into this relaxed, peaceful state. state.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Even though your eyes are open, open, and will remain open as long as you need to read these words, words, it’s a little bit like being asleep.  asleep.  When you are asleep, asleep, you are passive.  passive.  When you are asleep, asleep, you are peaceful.  peaceful.  Nothing happens when you are asleep. asleep.  Your conscious mind rests when you are asleep, asleep, and that’s what I would like it to do now.  now.  Just let your mind rest.  rest.  Let your mind be peaceful.  peaceful.  Let your mind be still.  still.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Just let yourself drift like this.  this.  You are safe.  safe.  There is nowhere you need to be, be, nothing you need to do.  do.  You are free to be passive, passive, which means being peaceful, peaceful, which means being still.  still.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

And you will find it easy to return to this state, state, when you want, want, with any induction that you choose to use. use.  It is easy to let the words you see become your only thoughts, thoughts, once you learn how.  how.  It is easy to be passive, passive, once you learn how.  how.  It is easy to be peaceful, peaceful, once you learn how. how.  It is easy to be still, once you learn how. how.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Passive.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peaceful.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Of course, course, eventually everyone has to return to being active.  active.  For every dreamy, dreamy, sleepy sleepy night, night, there is a morning.  morning.  So now, now, I would like you to let yourself start to become active again. again.  You may feel refreshed. refreshed.  Perhaps you will compare the pleasant feeling of awakening to waking up after a good sleep, sleep, or having had a hot shower, shower, soothing all your muscles.  muscles.  Either way, way, you wake up feeling good.  good.  You may even find that some action that seemed difficult before before will seem more easy to accomplish now.  now.

Feel your body, body, feel the position of your limbs, limbs, feel whether it is hot or cold or medium.  medium.

Hear the sounds around you, you, as you become more aware of your surroundings.  surroundings.

Become aware that your eyes can move, move, that they can stray to things other than the flashing words, words, that they can take in more of the world.  world.

Notice your thoughts coming back, back, refreshed. refreshed.  Energized.  Energized.  Ready to become active again.  again.

And now, now, fully back, back, fully awake, awake, happy happy and ready to re-engage with the world.  world.

~

[burnablc]

statistics —

NAME: Thomas Raymond AGE: Twenty-eight FACECLAIM: Casey Deidrick ALIAS: The Human Torch, Toro, Tom (by Bucky only) POWERS/SKILLS: Pyrokinesis, plasma form, nova flame, fire manipulation, flight, thermokinesis, immunity to fire, immunity to heat, superhuman durability, cold resistance, master marksman, master of stealth, expert tactician, master acrobat, knife proficiency, and an expert in hand-to-hand combat.   ↳ CHEMICAL TRANSFORMATION: he has the ability to subconsciously create chemical and elemental transformations in his body and the air next to him. he uses this to duplicate the ability to engulf himself in flames. when aflame he’s enveloped by a low-intensity flame that’s around 780° fahrenheit. thomas can however generate heat and flame of temperatures ranging over 2500° fahrenheit. he can also create shapes out of fire and they’ll burn for three minutes unless he infuses them with more energy. like his mentor, he can telekinetically control flame objects and also flames that weren’t created by him.  when flying he can travel at speeds up to 150 miles per hour. most bullets will be immediately vaporized if thomas is aflame. ALLIANCE: The Inhumans, Invaders    ↳ His Inhuman gene was activated after reacting to synthetic replicas of human cells called Horton cells in the 1920’s. These cells were made using plastic and carbon polymers. His adoptive father is an android who was created with them. When Thomas came into contact with him for the first time as a little boy, his physiology became exposed to the Horton cells and his Inhuman powers finally manifested. THREAT LEVEL (OUT OF TEN): Eight HISTORY FILE (LINK WIKI): Dossier NOTABLE CHANGES FROM 2012 TO THE TIMELINE THEY WERE PULLED FROM: My main change is that Thomas was an adult when fighting in the war. He was old enough to enlist in Rewritten. I don’t like that the comics made Thomas a literal child fighting the war so this is an important change! He was born in the year 1916 and died in 1944. His wife gave his best friend his dog tags because that’s what Thomas would have wanted. Jim still adopted him but it was back in 1923 and he became his sidekick shortly after! LAST MEMORY BEFORE ENDING UP IN NYC, 2012: 1943. Sneaking off to have a beer with Bucky on one of the more quiet nights. He remembers saying this was to make up for not being able to properly celebrate his birthday. He was a soldier for the United States Army and got pulled right out of World War II to 2012.

@rewrittenintro

questionnaire —

How are you feeling? Physically and mentally.

“I’m feeling just about every emotion you can think of but all at once. I don’t really understand this world. I’m trying. It’s hard when a week ago it was 1943 and we were in the middle of fighting a war. I remember having a beer with Bucks the night before. We asked some of the other guys to come along but it ended up being just the two of us exchanging some laughs. I went to bed and woke up sixty-nine years later only to discover that I died in that war. This all might as well be a new world for someone like me. Physically? I’m fine but mentally I’m struggling while trying to cope with how overwhelmed everything is. I don’t even now where to begin.”

Where are you living? The same place you lived in 2012, or displaced to a random apartment? Explain to the best of your ability.

“I’ll admit finding somewhere to live wasn’t my first priority but I recently settled into a small apartment somewhere in Brooklyn. It turns out Tony Stark established a fund for those like me who don’t have any means of finding housing. I’m grateful. I would have been okay with sleeping in the streets since I’ve slept in worse places during World War Two. I’ll admit that I haven’t gotten used to having a real bed yet. I keep finding myself on the floor with my pillow.”

What do YOU think we should do about the situation at hand? Try to go back home? The original mission of stopping Thanos? Rewrite the entire story?

“Do I really want to go back home? I know it’s selfish wanting to stay but if I go back to my own time period then I’m going to die in a year. Would it really hurt to change this one little thing? I don’t know who Thanos is but I’m not afraid of people like that.”

What will you DO about the situation at hand?

“I think it would be wise to try finding where I belong here in this world before I decide to do anything drastic. The Inhumans have accepted me which is a start. However, if something does need me then I’ll show up. I’m not the type of person who will run away from a fight.”

Is there anything that you think needs to be done?

“There have been so many advancements that came after my time. I think it’s only appropriate to start learning about them first. Everything is so new and unlike what I already know. I’m a man out of time but this is my home now and I want to understand it.”

If need be, would you be willing to team up with the government and SHIELD to recoup and help the situation at hand?

“My best friend told me that we don’t want to work with them. There isn’t anything I trust more than his word. Especially since he knows this world far better than me. I just want to help fight for what’s right.”

What are your worries?

“I grew up in the circus but they exploited me after discovering what I’m able to do. They made me a sideshow act. I guess I’m just worried about it happening again.”

What do you think are the pros about this situation?

“I’m alive! I’ve been given more time and I’m not going to waste it.”

Anything else?

“Does anyone know if my dad still around? He’s an android so I don’t know how aging affects him but I would really like to reunite. Jim Hammond? If anyone has seen him please let me know. It’s important to me. He adopted me as his own and became fiercely protective of me. I’m just sorry that pappy buried me when I was so young. I can’t imagine . . .”