#doubles as fast as possible in a row | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yandere-sins · 2 years ago

Text

The Orcas' Tale - Chapter II

Right choice, baby! And we get some alone and exploration time with Krill, isn't that lovely? Hope you guys will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it ♥ Krill's reference is getting drawn up just as I post this chapter, so it's double as exciting for me to see my descriptions come to life!

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Manhandling, Threats, Dub-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

"Fine, then…"

Taking a deep breath, you looked between the three expectant pairs of eyes before locking onto Krill's. None of them created a feeling of safety, but of all of them, Krill was the one you had interacted with the most. Gulping, you nodded at him, not needing to speak his name out loud before a smug grin parted his lips, showcasing the rows of sharp teeth behind them.

"Everyone else, out," he ordered, his voice an assertive command as he lifted his body further out of the water, slowly clawing his way over to you. Lyr let out the longest, most disappointed sigh you had ever heard someone make, its high tone reminding you of the sharp whistle of a teapot. Still, he slipped into the pool with a taunting, "I've got something better to do anyway."

Nerrocan said nothing. When you pried your eyes from Krill's, you saw his upper body slumping, but the next second he jumped into the pool head-first and was gone. You had no idea if he was disappointed or relieved as he made his exit as fast as possible. And yet, you wished he would have stayed for some reason. Maybe just so you wouldn't have to face this giant predator, stalking towards you on his hands and arms, alone. Have someone be the voice of reason since the differences between you two were just too big to find common ground.

With a surprised squeak, you were ambushed by Krill, his arms wrapping around you before he turned you both around, squeezing and pressing you against his chest. With a loud "Uff!" you fell to your butt, only to realize the ground you were sitting on was wet and slick, making you shoot out your hands to find hold. However, it wasn't ground you were sitting on. It was a body.

It explained the weird sensation and friction against your wet suit, and you were always on the brink of slipping off as you realized in horror that Krill had pulled you on top of him while lying under you. A throaty laugh escaped the merman as he grabbed you by the forearms, having watched your struggles for a bit before steading you on top of him and placing your hands on his pecs. You bit your own lip as a moment of curiosity overcame you, seeing the sheer difference in size; the sensation of your teeth against your lips tearing you out of it.

You wanted to pull your hands away, but all you could do was release a gasp as Krill pressed his claws to your skin, a quiet warning. Finally, you looked up, puncturing red orbs watching your every move with a drilling intensity. Not even the blue light could make his eyes any less piercing and brilliant, almost as if they were made from rubies.

"Relax," he purred, the sound rumbling through his whole body and transferring onto yours. It didn't help you calm down, but you forced yourself to listen and focus, not letting the surprise and panic overtake you and upset him. Krill watched as you straightened your back, pulling your legs a bit higher so you'd find some hold on his massive body, your toes barely able to touch the ground when fully stretched anyway. You felt like a child on top of a way too big horse, legs barely able to go around his midriff, but the chortles and chuckles coming from him seemed to indicate Krill didn't mind as you tried to get more comfortable.

Sensing your newly acquired balance, he dropped his hands from your arms, one to capture your wrist, lifting it up so he could see. Krill had settled on what you assumed before was a bed, on top of the soft seal fur, slightly leaning against the back wall. A look over your shoulder revealed that his tail fin was still splashing in the pool, confirming your assumption that there wouldn't be enough space for their whole bodies inside this cave.

Flicking your wrist back and forth between his thumb and pointer, Krill hummed thoughtfully—a sound you'd come to hear more often as he explored onwards. First, his hands went to your legs, wet palms, webbing, and claws driving over your wetsuit, the fabric getting stuck on the gold rings he wore, briefly squeezing your thighs before he focused his attention on your right foot, scooping it up in his palm and demanding it closer to his face so he could watch you wiggle your toes. With bated breath, you put on the greatest show for him, making all five of your toes rise simultaneously and in turns as best as you could. Your effort paid off as Krill chuckled again, helping you back into your position on top of him by placing your foot where you had settled it before.

"You're really freakin' soft," he mumbled under his breath as his hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing the air out of your lungs but never pressing longer than necessary. It made you realize that he wasn't out to hurt you. In fact, he might actually be as curious about you as you were about him. "I noticed it before, but that's just…"

The feeling of his claws softly digging into your back made you arch. The tight muscles beneath you rubbed against your privates, the wet suit not giving as much coverage as you would have liked at that moment. Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, immediately burning up from embarrassment and averting your eyes while Krill's inquisitive hands drove beneath your arms, wrapping around your chest. He probed at your joints, pushing your shoulders back, your soft skin so very different from the hard surface his body created. You wondered if someone more built and muscular than you could even come close to the firmness of Krill. Inhaling deeply, you dared to look up at him again, noticing how his eyes shot up to meet yours, his grin widening as he pulled you a bit higher on top of his chest. "What about you? Aren't you curious?"

You gulped.

Yes, you were terribly curious about these creatures. No, you couldn't let this get the best of you. But, God. You wanted to learn more about them. Everything you could find, you wanted to know, preserving your knowledge in a thorough report forever. These creatures were dangerous and too sentient while also harboring animalistic traits to be comfortable with. But so were countless other creatures on this planet. And you just had a chance to research them thoroughly.

"Can I?" you asked, holding your breath as you wondered if you were testing your luck. This may have been a test. Maybe Krill would refuse, leading you on because he could tell your curiosity from the sparkle in your eyes. "Be my guest," he suddenly interrupted your thoughts, wrapping his palms around your arms to guide them forward. You were back to touching him, your hand barely enough to capture any part of him, but it guided your attention to really look at what you were dealing with.

His muscles should not have awed you as much as they did, looking almost the exact same as a human bodybuilder's who was dehydrated before a show. You weren't sure if he could even dehydrate as a mermaid, but since his skin was so taut, maybe he merely lacked fat in these regions. However, what made you wonder the most was the jewelry he wore. At least they looked like jewelry.

You leaned forward, one of his hands instinctively reaching up, supporting your lower body as you went for the sharp teeth dangling from a leathery necklace. "Are those… sharks?" you asked absentmindedly, knowing the answer without even needing one from him. "Yup!" Krill replied, pride swinging in his voice as he lifted one up in his hand as well. "One for every bastard I killed."

You hummed in acknowledgment, aware that real orcas and sharks didn't get along well, either. Still, with the words of the voice you heard before nagging in the back of your mind, another question arose. "Are they real sharks, or are they…" Swallowing the rest of the sentence, you let go of the tooth, gesturing at Krill instead.

"Oh, they're like me, alright."

He immediately understood your question, grinning from ear to ear as your eyes widened. You took in the size of the teeth dangling from his neck again and realized that these shark mermaids must have been giant as well. "Isn't it dangerous?" you whispered, fear crawling through your bones again, making your body prickle. However, instead of an answer, Krill suddenly picked you up, lifting you into the air as he twisted his body to the left side, placing you next to him and propping his head on his hand.

"Hm, for you? Maybe. Us? Not so much. You have an alright head on your shoulders. You should know who wins these kinds of fights."

Tapping his pointer finger claw to your forehead, you instinctively closed your eyes, only for him to chuckle at your reaction. "Orcas," you guessed, knowing very well that the real animals put up a good fight, but a shark had no chance against a group of orcas.

"Clever," Krill chuckled, the arm he used to hold himself up wrapping around you from behind, pulling you closer while he used his free right arm to direct your hand back to his body. Forcing your palm to smooth over his tail, you could have almost mistaken him enjoying your exploration more than even you did, but you wouldn't wait for him to ask again to take advantage. Kneeling, you were high enough to look over him, giving you the advantage of height to see. The patterns on his body were remarkably close to an orca, and you realized that until now, you still somewhat had doubts about their heritage. Doubts that were slowly dissolving.

Scars littered his skin, paling the black ever so often. Scars that were long and must have been deep to remain on his otherwise taut and strong body. You could only guess his age, but you didn't think Krill was too old to heal from wounds, so these must have been from fights, the marks looking like scratches that gave away who he must have fought with. The space between his hips and tail was covered by a leathery, brown belt, the fabric wrapping around him completely. There was even a small sachet dangling from it, and what surprised you more: a dagger. Sheathed in the same leather, the silver metal grip still had a remarkable resemblance to a human sword, but it was nowhere near your hand size. An authentic mermaid relict and you were dying of curiosity from it. However, you doubted Krill would give it to you, given the questionable captivity you were in. You were almost too scared to ask him, but the question resolved in a matter of seconds.

"Not there," Krill snapped suddenly as you lowered your hand to the top of his tail, on the inside between his human body and the fish one.

"Sorry!" you squeaked, taken aback by the sudden refusal and jumping away with your hands raised defensively. Krill grumbled a little, then suddenly decided to roll over onto his stomach. You got to your feet just in time to not be caught underneath his body, and Krill let out a satisfied sigh as he laid flatly on top of the ledge. But when you looked up at him, his head resting on his arms, you were met with his gaze, as intense and burning as ever.

"Continue," he ordered, fortifying your belief he might actually be enjoying this. You gulped, now feeling a bit more hesitant after the sudden outburst just now. Being unable to talk about the dagger you saw was disappointing, but you decided to stay on his good graces for now.

Stepping closer, the first thing that caught your attention came as a surprise. "A dorsal fin," you muttered, looking at the triangle on top of his fish half. You hadn't noticed it before, but you realized it must have been uncomfortable to lay on it. Even so, Krill didn't complain, nor did he when you placed your hands on it, even squeezing tentatively into the tissue, realizing it was almost the same as the ones you had studied before. That, admittedly, did get you a bit excited.

"Sorry," you whispered again as Krill's tail flinched from your touch, and he grumbled a little. But to your surprise, you found his eyes close as you searched for his face. It was both honorable that he seemed to be relaxing, as well as a bit offensive. You posed no threat to him. He had no reason to watch you. Leaving his dorsal fin, you continued upwards, your gentle touch tracing up the spine of his tail to where it connected to his upper body. You were almost scared to press, but you did so anyway, finding his tail to be a bit more tender than his human parts. Unfortunately, you couldn't feel his spine beneath it. But you found something else that piqued your interest.

"Are those from sharks, too?" you asked, tracing the scars on his body with your fingers.

"Sharks and others. I don't keep count of what bit and scratched me, just of the things I killed for trying."

"So there are many different species of your kind down here, huh?"

"Guess so. Too many to count or even remember. All that matters is protecting the pod and making sure we have enough to eat. Oh, and having fun while at it, of course."

You could hear the grin on his face as he added the last sentence. The cruelty of orcas was not something you were unaware of. Apparently, this merfolk had the same definition of "fun" as their animal counterparts. It wasn't a surprise, but somehow it felt like a disappointment as you had credited them for being better than that. Scary, nonetheless.

"Oh, but this one-" Reaching his hand back, Krill found yours, guiding it to a big scratch on his back, just above his tail. "-Mom was so angry when I got this one. I went out on my own to hunt for food for her since she was pregnant with Lyr. It was the first time I hunted alone, and I got ambushed by sharks. One of them got me good. They wanted my head just because they hate us."

Rightfully so, you thought but kept it to yourself. Given how Krill had admitted to being just as cruel as other orcas, you could only imagine the severity of hate between these two species. Krill raised his body briefly, revealing that the scar wrapped around to the front.

"Somehow, Mom must have realized where I was, and she came barging in with all the others to save me. But I will never forget the scolding I received while I got treated for my injuries. My aunts kept telling her to calm down because she was pregnant and I was in pain, but she shut them all down. She's the leader; her word goes above everyone else. And now, well... I blame that day for Lyr not being right in his head."

There was no bite to his words, only fond memories and a chuckle at the end about the joke he made. "Haven't talked about that in a while," he noted after a moment of silence. His eyes opened, but he stared off into the distance, unfocused. "I wonder if it's my fault…"

"What is? What do you mean Lyr's not right in his head?" The questions spilled out before you could stop yourself. Curiosity would kill you one day, but you couldn't help it. You had long settled by his side, innocently listening to his words and, unbeknownst to you, relaxed while Krill spoke, his voice even and melodic, and the conversation comfortable. But when he curled his body so he could look at you, the red of his eyes made you tense up immediately, never letting you forget that you were in no position to ask your questions.

Krill eyed you, perhaps suspiciously for the first time. As if he was wondering whether the information he could tell would give you a chance to hurt him. Him or anyone else. However, you weren't a threat, and you lowered your eyes apologetically for daring to overstep.

But to your surprise, he only ever reached out, pulling you from your place next to his tail forward until he could wrap the arm around you, forcing you to sit right next to his head. Unexpectedly, he collected your legs before heaving his head on top of them, resting the side of his face on you. He was heavier than anyone before who used you as a lap pillow, that much was sure, but since you could lean into his arms around you, it wasn't as uncomfortable as you feared.

His hair was shorter than Nerrocan's, short in the front, longer in the back, like a mullet. One side was cut down into a sidecut, and most of it was a dark white instead of Nerrocan's long, black hair. An odd choice for a hairstyle for such a fearsome creature you found, but it fit his daring attitude. He certainly had the aura of a leader, which made more sense now that you knew about his mother. And with him taking the time to talk to you and make deals, never showing fear or hesitations in this kind of situation, he definitely acted that way. You couldn't help but play with the strands, soft and wet from the water, shining black on top.

Scanning his features, an odd thought crossed your mind. Krill was quite handsome.

You had felt the same when you looked at Nerrocan, both embodying beauty standards in different ways. At least until the fish parts. Strangely, you didn't have this feeling for Lyr, though you had to admit you didn't really have the time to look at him either. Combing your fingers through his hair, you felt emboldened by having the apparent trust of this creature, deciding to prod a little more.

"Why did you say that about Lyr?" you whispered softly, not wanting to upset the giant in your lap. Krill's eyes fluttered open, his gaze shifting briefly to you before he let out a deep sigh, the sound echoing through the cave.

"Something happened to him. He… changed. Refused to hunt for the pod one day, despite being one of the best, and never went back to it. He ignores Mom and orders from me or her, and does whatever he wants instead. Sometimes he disappears for days before returning like nothing happened, with a few fresh scars and a grin on his face as if he's going mad. Also, he lost a lot of weight. Maybe he's sick? His fin collapsed, and we could help him if he'd let us, but he's stubborn, that prick."

Letting out another frustrated puff, the gills on his neck flaring, Krill lifted his head before plunging it face down into your lap, creating friction with your wetsuit. If you didn't know better, you'd say he liked the sensation against his skin, but he stopped before long, placing his head sidewards and looking up at you from the corner of his eye.

"Lyr has problems, and Nerrocan has ideas. I know they are their own orcas, but they could come to me, and we'd talk about whatever is going on. I taught them everything, you know? I've been with them since they were wee calves. You'd think that would mean something in this family."

With that, Krill lifted himself upwards, supporting himself on his arms and looking down at you, his brows furrowing as the mood turned serious. "Don't tell them what I said, understood? I shouldn't have said anything, but you're… easy… to talk to. You wouldn't dare to go against me—we both know that."

Slowly, Krill moved backwards, his body sinking back into the pool. "Besides, you owe me."

"Do I?" you questioned, his choice of words ticking you off. One second, it felt like you were building a connection between you two; the next, he pushed you away. Verbally and with physical distance. You could see the relief on his expression as he sank into the water, making you realize that a prolonged stay out of it was probably not comfortable. But then, his eyes snapped open, an authoritarian air emitting from the previously gentle giant in your lap.

"Of course you do. You would have died up there, and you know it. I rescued you, opened my home to you, and made sure you wouldn't be killed by the others in my pod. Our females would not have taken kindly to you had they found you first."

"Someone would have come for me, I know it! I didn't have to rely on you–"

"Oh, please," he snorted, running a wet hand through his hair, moisturizing his scalp and face. "You were lost out there. The sounds of that metal thing had long disappeared from the waters, and with your flimsy… legs, they're called, right? You wouldn't have come far on your own. You do owe me, and the same for the others who kept you a secret from the rest of the pod. You should be a bit more grateful."

"Excuse me–!" you tried to argue when he suddenly snapped his teeth at you, making you flinch away.

"No more," he hissed. "They're coming back, and I don't want to hear a word of what we said. Just be grateful and return our kindness. Amuse us, or I don't see why we should keep you with us."

With almost no delay, the water parted on either side of Krill, revealing the familiar heads of your other two 'saviors'. Lyr perked up at the sight of you, and if he noticed your hesitations, he pretended not to see. You glanced back at Krill, who held your gaze with a commanding aura, and you didn't dare to say anything, even though you hated that you had to bend to Krill. You knew he was right, and the anxious part of your brain tended towards thankfulness for the orcas for saving you. But it still didn't feel right. It was a reminder that you weren't their equal and they had no respect for you. With your differences, you had doubts that they'd see you as anything but a lesser lifeform, given how they felt superior over you. And you knew that they were, even if you wanted to disagree with their views.

"We're not sure, but the older females think you humans like to make yourself pretty, right? The pod's been collecting these, but we don't really have any use for them. Do you want them?"

Lyr's voice caught you off-guard, and you flinched, causing Krill to let out a curt warning growl that didn't go unnoticed by the others. They didn't question their leader. Turning towards Lyr, you scanned over the things he held in his palm: an ivory comb, a small plastic bottle of hand sanitizer, and a delicate-looking tube of… lipstick? You didn't even want to think about how long these things had been in the water, all of them looking worn down, with the plastic bottle being the newest addition. You couldn't see yourself using any of these items besides the comb. Even if just to regain some sanity from the familiarity of combing through your hair. But sticking to it were algae, and the material looked crusty, like it had been down here for a while. Not very hygienic.

"That isn't even close to what a human needs," Nerrocan suddenly spoke up. When he got out of the water, he didn't waste time presenting what he brought back, throwing a massive slab of meat in front of your feet. Not meat. Fish. And not just any fish, a gigantic one, the piece as big as your whole body. It lacked a head and fins, making it unrecognizable, but with the meat cut open, you could see the typical fish flesh. You were too scared to ask what it was as you realized you couldn't make it out on your own. Part of you wanted to think it would be edible, but a much more horrific thought crossed your mind.

What if it was another mermaid?

Your stomach betrayed you with a growl, and your mind unwillingly drifted off to freshly made sushi, a luxury you were sure wouldn't be served down here. But could you bring yourself to actually eat whatever they were serving you? You glanced back at the comb and its sharp edges, the crusts on top of it. It might cut your scalp and infect it, too, if you weren't careful. But by the look Krill gave you, you knew you had to make a decision soon. He wanted to see your appreciation for their efforts, no matter how much this made you feel sick to the stomach.

"What do you want?" Krill asked, voicing your racing thoughts in your head. Your eyes bounced from the strange food to the comb and back to Krill, everything screaming inside you to refuse either option and ask to be finally brought home after indulging him. But would that even work? Would they let you go this easily? As you thought about it, you were faced with three apparent choices.

558 notes · View notes

bonesxbows · 6 months ago

Text

Act Naturally - Chapter 1 (Cooper Howard X Reader)

Masterlist

While exploring an old section of Hollywood, the two of you stumble upon an old advertisement for a cowboy movie. But the man on the poster looks suspiciously a lot like Cooper, even down to the same smile. But it couldn't possibly be him...right?

(WARNINGS) - anger issues - negative self talk (from Cooper not you)

I feel like I dragged this on for way longer than it needed to be BUT it's a done thing now and tbh I'm pretty happy with it. I fucking adore soft Cooper moments and idc if I have to write them all myself

Also! This idea came from @land-of-evergreens-and-dye so full credit to them for letting me stew on this prompt

Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Reblogs and comments much appreciated!

Banners by @strangergraphics

The two of you had found yourselves in an old section of Hollywood. It had been so long since Cooper had told you his reason for bringing you here that you’d forgotten what his motivation for this excursion was. Although it didn’t really matter to you, you’d follow him anywhere whether he wanted you to tag along or not. There was no separating you two. Not anymore.

Most of the buildings had been boring to scavenge through, if you could even find a way inside at all. Not much was left of the boulevard besides dusty sidewalks and rusting billboards. But one building in particular piqued your interest. It had a larger facade than all the rest where small billboard-like signs hung above the wide double doors. Broken and busted bulb lights framed the signs and the rows of black lettering were missing far too many letters to be able to read it clearly. What letters you could make out only baffled you more than the strange-looking building did.

‘Co - How - Starr - in - Th - M - Fr - Dea - Horse’

“Horse? What’s a horse?” you asked out loud, more to yourself than to him. He usually never listened to your mid-exploring ramblings, though he never did tell you to stop. You turned around to find him staring up at the old sign too, although his brow was creased and a scowl was stuck on his face. You placed a hand on his shoulder and he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes shifted to looking at you instead.

“You wanna check inside there, don’ you?” He asked.

You nodded and gave him a small smile. “Can we? Please? I’ve never seen any place like it before.”

“Hm. ‘Spose we can. But make it quick alright?” He checked his pistol’s ammunition levels and flipped the barrel back into place once he was satisfied. You led the way forward, pushing the swinging doors inward as Cooper was right behind you, pistol in hand and trigger finger ready.

He was a little disappointed when the place appeared to be empty. But the feeling didn’t last, he couldn’t stay upset as he watched you scurry around the place, your eyes wide with fascination. The interior was even more astonishing to you than the exterior had been. Rows of folding booth-like chairs covered the majority of the floor, their fabric exterior faded and torn, and in the back of the building was a wooden stage. Ragged old curtains framed the blank wall behind the stage where its faded white paint chipped and peeled off the plaster. There wasn’t much hiding between the rows of chairs besides dust and sand but you still kept your hopes high that the rest of the building would hold something worthwhile.

“What is this place? Some kind of shooting gallery?” you asked, your wasteland-born intelligence of pre-war places was lacking, but fortunately for you, Cooper liked you enough to fill you in on what knowledge you didn't have.

He chuckled at your observation. He supposed a shooting gallery was just about the closest thing you could get to a theater these days. “Not ‘xactly, sweetheart. It was used for movies, picture shows, that kinda thing. A place where folks could feign ignorance ‘bout the end of the world fast approachin’ on their heels.”

“Movies? Like the kind on those busted-up televisions?” you continued to explore around as you talked. He followed you, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary that could be dangerous while you focused on the useful and exciting things you could find.

“Mmhm. Just like those. Never endin’ loops of fairytale stories kept alive by people long gone by now.” he explained, and you ended the conversation after that. His voice was strained and scruffy, meaning he was either remembering something he wanted to forget or he was getting agitated. Either way, you knew it was in your best interest to stop asking questions.

Things got progressively more interesting when you discovered the back rooms of the building. The first one had been large, with dusty velvet ropes leading to a counter filled with food machines and nuka-cola dispensers, you’d come back here to scavenge all the food you could carry with you on your way out, but the hallways and storage rooms were what really piqued your attention.

Posters lined the wooden walls of the hallways, the plaster that had once surrounded them now nothing more than dust on the ground. The paper was old, torn, and extremely faded, even with the lack of sunlight in the place. The color was all but gone from the paper, but you could still make out the words if you squinted hard enough.

“Cooper Howard Starring in The Man From Dead Horse.” The letters matched up with the ones from outside but yet you were still baffled on what exactly a horse was. The poster had no other information to help clarify, although you found it interesting that the man on the paper supposedly shared your cowboy’s name.

“Huh.” You exclaimed as you studied the pictures.

“What?” Cooper called after you, pulling his attention only slightly away from the containers he was looting around the place, looking for spare ammo or anything else that was useful.

“Nothing. Just something about these posters. Are these about those movies you were talking about?” you asked, which had him turning around to examine the poster along with you. The only response he gave you was a short grunt, which you knew translated to a yes. You shifted your eyes back to the paper on the wall. Most of the color may have been gone but you could still make out a blue shirt on a man with a white cowboy hat on top of his head. He stood in a pose with his revolver in the air and his other hand on his hip. He wore a smirk on his face that felt familiar and something in the back of your mind itched like you had seen this all before…somewhere. But you couldn't pinpoint the memory.

When you turned back around Cooper was already gone down the hallway so you hurried to follow him, tearing your eyes from the poster but keeping your mind on the nagging feeling it left you with. Maybe if you turned the picture over in your head enough times the memory you were looking for would click, or so you hoped.

His attitude had significantly changed after you found that poster. He became more on edge and that gruff exterior he had when you had first met him was back. He rushed through the rest of the building, seemingly not caring if you were behind him or not. By the time you caught up with him, he was shoving his way back out through the swinging front doors. You could see the finger on his pistol’s trigger starting to twitch. You followed him outside and down the road a way until he stopped in front of the first billboard he saw.

Like everything else in the wasteland, the colors were gone and the picture was faded, but you could clearly tell it had been an advertisement for Vault-Tec before the bombs. Cooper didn’t hesitate to unload every round in his revolver through the billboard. Pieces of wood and metal went flying and you instinctively covered your face, listening to the bullet casings and wood chips hit the concrete around you. He eventually ran out of bullets, although you could still hear him clicking the trigger. Once the gun sounded empty you lowered your arms again, examining the now hole-riddled Vault Boy on the billboard. Cooper’s face still held a nasty scowl.

“You got a personal vendetta with Vault-Tec I don't know about or something? What just happened?” you asked. If you were anyone else he would have filled you with lead just for asking a question right then and there. He was currently too angry to deal with stupidity. But he would never purposefully hurt you, that was one line he refused to cross in his mind. But unknowingly to you your words only fueled his anger more.

“Shut it. Let’s go. I’m sick of this place.” he snapped, his usual drawl and accent missing and replaced by venom in his words. He quickened his pace out of the block of streets and you followed him, but you kept your distance to a minimum of a few feet at least for the remainder of the trek.

It had been a few hours since Cooper’s outburst and the two of you had set up camp for the night inside of an old diner. He had seemed to calm down a little but he had set himself up in the corner of a booth with his hat pulled down over his eyes and his feet kicked up on the table in front of him. Which left you alone with your thoughts in front of his makeshift campfire. You watched the sun sink below the horizon as you replayed the earlier events of the day over and over in your head, still trying to connect the dots. You stared at Cooper, his supposedly sleeping form leaning against the worn material of the diner booth, hoping that if you focused on him hard enough you could will the connection in your mind to click.

And then the realization hit you like a lightning bolt, your eyes pulling all of the pieces together in front of you as you stared at his hat and the rough skin poking out from underneath it.

You sprang up from your seat on the ground, sliding yourself into the booth on the other side of the table in front of him. He didn't seem to notice until you reached over and yanked his cowboy hat off of his head with one swift motion. His eyes shot open and immediately landed on you.

“Can’t a ghoul get some shut-eye ‘round here without you botherin’ him?” he scoffed, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turning to face you across the table. You didn’t respond and instead placed his hat on the table in front of you, staring at him with full intent. He was unbothered underneath your intense gaze, either he was used to being stared at or knew you weren’t much of a threat to him. “I got somethin’ in my teeth or is this a new hobby of yours I don’ know about?” he asked, your silence was irking him more than your constant staring.

You let your eyes do all the work and your imagination filled in the blanks, pulling both images in your head together; the man from the poster and the man sitting in front of you. His dirty blue shirt peaking out from underneath his duster confirmed your suspicion.

“You’re him.” was all you said as the realization set in.

“Pardon?”

“You're him! From the poster earlier! That's why he looked so familiar!” your excitement was getting hard to contain. You had known Cooper was from before the bombs but you hadn’t known he was THAT Cooper Howard.

“Darlin’, I have no idea what you’re on about. You best forget ‘bout that whole theater ‘fore you go and stir up trouble.” he told you, folding his arms in front of him on the table as his brow darkened his eyes.

“What’s the big deal, Coop? Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you rushed out of there so quickly?” you spoke quickly, the questions flooding out of your mouth faster than you had intended.

“Hmph. ‘What’s the big deal?’ The ‘big deal’ is that man is dead. Has been for over 200 years. I ain’t keen on bringin’ him back neither. His optimism and gullibility got him killed and that was the end of that. I’m done rememberin’ the sorry excuse I got for a past. Reminiscing don’ keep you alive for long.” his western accent was tangled together with poison as he spat out his words. But his scary looks didn’t work on you anymore.

“Maybe, but you’re still him, Coop. You’ve adapted to the wasteland but you’re still you. Roughed up and scarred a little, sure, but who isn’t?” you told him, doing your best to keep your voice soft to combat his spitefulness.

“A little? Sweetheart, I’m a damn monster, everyone out ‘ere thinks so. Whatever was left of good ol’ Cooper Howard died when this here skin started fallin’ off. I’m done bein’ nice in a world that does nothin’ but kicks you when you’re down.”

“I don’t think you're a monster.”

It was one sentence, just a few words, but it made him pause. His scowl vanished for a few seconds and was replaced by a look of confusion. There was a small smile tugging at his lips too, if you were quick enough to notice it before it was gone. He sighed and leaned back against the booth.

“Well then that’s one hell of a lapse of judgment on your part sweetheart.” he hooked his hands together and put them behind his head, cradling the back of his neck as he closed his eyes again and leaned further into the booth. But you weren't done with the conversation just yet.

You got up, grabbed his hat off of the table, and shifted yourself into the booth he was sitting in. You looked at him and then looked down at his hat in your hands. A relic from over two centuries ago, covered in sand and caked in dirt. But still a working and functioning cowboy hat. It protected its wearer from the harsh sun and there was a sense of safety woven somewhere in between the fibers. Broken and beaten and even dirtied beyond repair, it was still a hat. And Cooper was still a person.

You climbed on top of the table, being careful not to accidentally kick him with your feet as you positioned yourself in front of him and placed a leg on either side of his body. You placed his hat in its rightful place on top of his head, making him open his eyes again when he felt your touch. He looked up at you curiously, fully not expecting you to be on the table in front of him. You reached down and grabbed both of the lapels of his duster, balling the fabric up in your fists as you pulled him forward and smashed your lips into his. You were quick with your movements, something you had learned from being around Cooper so much recently, which left little to no time for him to react or protest against your sudden affection.

Although he didn't seem to mind. His hands found their way to your hips almost automatically and he slipped them under your shirt, grabbing at your soft skin roughly. Tomorrow morning you would have bruises all over your hips in the shape of his fingertips, but it happened so often now that the purples and blues were a permanent part of you. You had started this impromptu makeout session but he was determined to finish it. His tongue worked fervidly like he was mapping the constellations in the night sky across the inside of your mouth. He never once gave you the chance to take the lead and he was as quick as a viper to wrangle back control when you tried to take it yourself. At some point he had shifted his hands underneath you and scooped you off the table, sliding you right into his lap while still keeping a strong grip on you, never once slowing down with his tongue. Your legs were forced to wrap around him, your bodies now flush against each other in the booth.

It wasn’t long after he had pulled you closer that you had to pull away, panting and taking gulps of air. You finally let go of his jacket as you leaned back against the table, feeling the metal edge digging into your back as you did so.

“You know for a so-called ‘monster’ you sure know how to make someone feel breathless.” You told him as you admired the way he was smirking at you. Ironically it was the exact same smirk from that old poster of him, although you noticed he had shifted from that old-school charming look to now one that held an aura of danger around him.

“Hm. Well, now I’ve never been the type to pass up an opportunity when it’s handed to me. ‘Specially if it ends with somethin’ pretty sittin’ in my lap.” his grip on your hips was still ironclad as his eyes raked over you. His stare felt similar to a hunter stalking its prey. You knew what he was doing, trying to convince himself he was right by acting like a predator, but you knew the truth underneath the facade. You had seen firsthand how he had cared for you and looked after you even when he stood to gain nothing in return.

“Whether the old Cooper is dead or not doesn’t change the fact that I love this, right here, right now. Whatever led to you being my cowboy, I wouldn’t change a thing.” you ran your fingers up his chest as you spoke, fiddling your way underneath the collar of his cowboy costume to run your fingertips along the raised edges of his scarred skin. He sat back and let you touch him, not making any move to try and stop you. He’d let you do anything your little heart desired. He was your cowboy, he knew that, and yet two hundred years ago he would have never imagined meeting someone like you. He’d be damned if he would let anything happen to you, you were the only good thing he had left in this fucked up world. He refused to let anything else be taken from him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, relishing in the way the soft cartilage felt against his marred fingertips. He ran the very tip of his finger against the edge of your ear, earning a tilt of your head as a response to the sensation.

“Cooper?” you asked, making his eyes flick to yours. He noticed you had pulled your hand out from under his shirt and instead, you had placed it on top of his chest, mindlessly fumbling with the ancient fringe attached to the front.

“Hm?”

“I still have one question,” you told him, knitting your brows together in curiosity.

“I’m listenin’.” he had been so enraptured by your affection that he had no idea what to anticipate, especially when your face had turned so serious.

“What even is a horse, anyway?”

It took him a great deal of effort to stifle his laughter.

#my writings #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #fallout the ghoul #the ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout tv #fallout prime #fallout tv fanfic #cooper howard fanfiction #Cooper howard fanfic

68 notes · View notes

ghost-cinnamon · 12 days ago

Text

Sooooo, I kinda had to do a lot of other stuff so I wasn’t able to continue crocheting different Sans AUs. Buuut I’m back now and crocheted classic. I really like the fluff on his jacket :3 it’s adorable

I attached the pattern for him below if you also wanna crochet him. Have fun!

Classic Sans

Abbreviations

R - Row

Rd - Round

ch - chain

ss - slip stitch

sc - single crochet

hdc - half double crochet

dc - double crochet

trc - treble/triple crochet inc - increase

dec - decrease

flo - front loops only

blo - back loops only

[...] x2/3/6 - repeat what is inside the brackets 2/3/6 times

(...) - the number inside of the brackets is the number of stitches that round is supposed to have

The legs, main body and head will be crocheted in one piece just cuz I hate sewing the head onto the body, it always ends up crooked :(

Legs x2

Rd1: 6sc into Magic Ring

Rd2: 6 inc

Rd3: [1sc, inc]x6

Rd4: [2sc, inc]x6

Rd5-19: sc around

don’t tie off the second leg, connect it to the other leg with a ss

Rd20-31: sc around (36sc)

Rd32: 2sc, Dec, 5sc, Dec, sc,Dec, 6sc, Dec,6sc, Dec, sc, Dec,3sc

Rd33: 8sc, 3dec,7sc, 3dec, 3sc

Rd34: 7sc, 2dec, 2sc, 2dec, 2sc, 2dec, 1sc

Rd35: [1sc, Dec]x6

Rd36: sc around (12sc)

Rd37: [1sc, inc] x6

Rd38: [2sc, inc] x6

Rd39: [3sc, inc] x6

Rd40: [4sc, inc] x6

Rd41: [5sc, inc] x6

Rd42: [6sc, inc] x6

Rd43: [7sc, inc] x6

Rd44-48: sc around

Rd49: [7sc, Dec] x6

Rd50: sc around

Rd51: [6sc, Dec] x6

Rd52: sc around

Rd53: [5sc, Dec] x6

Rd54: [4sc, Dec] x6

Rd55: [3sc, Dec] x6

Rd56: [2sc, Dec] x6

Rd57: [1sc, Dec] x6

Rd58: 6 Dec

Arms x2

Rd1: 6sc into Magic ring

Rd2: 6 inc

Rd3-18: sc around

Sew body together and add the face

Pants

Rd1: ch31

Rd2: ss into first chain and sc around (30sc)

Rd3-4: sc around

Rd5: [8sc, Dec] x3

Rd6: sc around

Rd7: [7sc, Dec] x3

Rd8-9: sc around

Don’t tie off the second pant leg, connect with ss to other pant leg

Rd10-11: sc around (48sc)

Rd12: [14sc, Dec] x3

Rd13: [13sc, Dec] x3

Rd14: [12sc, Dec] x3

Rd15: [11sc, Dec] x3

Rd16: sc around

Shirt

Panels

R1: ch19

R2-13: 18sc, ch1, turn

R14: 16sc, ch1, turn

R15: 14sc, ch2, turn

R16: 2trc, 2dc, 1hdc, 4sc, 1hdc, 2dc, 2trc

Sleeves

Rd1: ch13

Rd2: ss into first chain, 12sc

Rd3-15: sc around

Sew everything together

Jacket

Sleeves x 2

Rd1: ch25

Rd2: ss into first chain, 24sc

Rd3-10: sc around

Rd11: [6sc, Dec] x3

Rd12: [5sc, Dec] x3

Rd13: sc around

Rd14: 12sc, ch1, turn, 9sc, ch1, turn, 7sc, ch1, turn, 5sc, ch1, turn, 5sc

Rd14: 8sc to end of round

Rd15: sc around (18)

Back panel

R1: ch23

R2-16: 22sc, ch1, turn

R17: 18sc, ch1, turn

R18: 14sc, ch1, turn

R19: 14sc, ch1, turn

R20: 2trc, 2dc, 1hdc, 4sc, 1hdc, 2dc, 2trc

Front panels x 2

R1: ch9

R2-16: 8sc, ch1, turn

R17: 5sc, ch1, turn

R18: 5sc, ch1, turn

R19: 1hdc, 2dc, 2trc

Hood

R1: ch31

R2: 30sc, ch1, turn

R3: 3ss, 24sc, ch1, turn

R4: 24sc, ch1, turn

R5: 23sc, ch1, turn

R6: 22sc, ch1, turn

R7: 21sc, ch1, turn

R8: 20sc, ch1, turn,

R9: 19sc, ch1, turn

R10: 18sc, ch1, turn

R11: 16sc, ch1, turn

R12: 14sc, ch1, turn

R13: 12sc, ch1, turn

R14: 10sc, ch1, turn

R15: 10sc, now sc down the side of the piece to the last ch of the row on the bottom 10sc, ch1 turn

R16: 1dec, 10sc, 3dec, 2sc, sc down the side of the piece to the first chain 8sc, 1dec

Sew everything together and optionally add white yarn strings to the edge of the hood and brush them out until fluffy

Slippers x 2

Rd1: 6sc into magic ring

Rd2: 6 inc

Rd3: [1sc, inc] x6

Rd4: [2sc, inc] x6

Rd5: blo 10sc, ch1, turn, 10sc, ch1, turn, 10sc

Sew onto body

Now just dress your classic and finished

I hope you liked the pattern, as always if you have any questions or anything is unclear you can just ask me. I’ll answer as fast as possible.

Sadly for this pattern I won’t be able to give any close-up pictures, should you ask for them to see a detail better because this is a gift for a friend and I will no longer have any direct contact to the plushie. Still, I hope this pattern is coherent enough to not need any more pictures

You can find my pattern for Error here

You can find my pattern for Ink here

Also if I continue making these patterns it might actually make sense to make a masterpost at some point to make it easier to navigate. Right now I feel like the patterns are still easy to navigate cuz I barely have anything on my blog but let me know how you feel about navigating the posts so far <3

#utmv #utmv au #utmv sans #undertale au #undertale #crochet plushie #crochet pattern #crochet #crochet sans #sans undertale #sans #sans au #undertale multiverse #undertale sans #classic sans #classic undertale #free crochet pattern #ut #utau

31 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 1 year ago

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 39

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

The lodge was buzzing. The big, open area was lined with rows of long tables, accompanied by high top tables on the ends. Down one end a group of guys was singing a cheery song that I had never heard before, but it made me smile. People of all ages, all clad in winter hats and hoodies, were slung about in small groups having a good time.

“Beers all around?” Carol asked, once the four of us were seated at a high top table by the bar.

After the elegant night at the winery, and bumping into Carol and Will before they went to the strings concert, I loved that Carol easily slipped into the more casual scene and could sling back beers on a whim. I was really looking forward to getting to know her better.

Dr. Miller rose to his feet and reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet. When Will went to stand along with him, he motioned for him to sit. “Everything is on me tonight. What’re we drinking?”

“I saw a beer on tap as I passed by called Road to Ruin,” Carol explained, “I have to try that one.”

“Which means we may be on the road to ruin,” Will joked with a laugh. “A Miller Lite is fine for me.”

Dr. Miller looked at me with a smirk and a subtle wink. I smiled at him. “What kind of beer is the Road to Ruin?” I asked, glancing at Carol.

“It’s a double IPA.” She made a guilty face and looked to Will, who smirked and shook his head.

“I’ll try it,” I said to Dr. Miller.

“Two Roads and two Millers.” He motioned to himself and Carol. It took a second for it to click as he added, “I’ve got more Dad jokes up my sleeve.”

“That’s why I’m getting the Road to Ruin,” his sister joked.

When Dr. Miller went to retrieve our beers at the bar, Carol focused her attention on me. “My brother really seems to adore you.”

“Oh.” I smiled and raised my eyebrows, feeling my cheeks grow hot. I wished I had a drink to hide behind. “Yeah.. I.. I feel the same way.” I was so awkward and I couldn't hide it.

“Honey, don't embarrass the poor girl,” Will put a hand on her forearm with a chuckle.

“I'm just saying,” Carol went on. “You both seem very happy.”

“We are.” I gave a nod and a smile I couldn't contain. “I've never met someone like Joel.” When I sighed out loud, both of them gave a laugh and my cheeks reddened some more. “How was the concert last night on campus?”

“It was very nice.” Carol looked to Will and then back to me. “Elizabeth was one of those students you’ll always remember. She even came back to help out with building our school’s drama club set this year. They spent hours, probably too late most nights, working on all that.”

“Great kid,” Will added.

“What drama production are you guys putting on?” I asked.

“Legally Blonde,” they said at the same time, making Carol chuckle.

“I keep having to chase that little dog around the auditorium, nightly,” Will said with an eye roll and a smirk. “This one’s been eating her dinners alone a few times a week.”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

Dr. Miller returned, barely able to carry all four beers, which so happened to be in oversized, frosty mugs. “They asked if I wanted the sixteen ounce or twenty-two ounce beers.” He gave a shrug, “I didn’t think anyone would oppose the twenty-two.”

“Certainly not,” Will said with a nod, reaching for the one Dr. Miller slid in his direction.

“Should we toast?” I asked, gently raising my glass just a few inches off the table at first.

“To Carol and Will,” Dr. Miller raised his glass before anyone could intervene, “May you have the long, happy life together.” He added, glancing at Will, “And to gaining a brother.”

“Amen.” Will tapped his glass against Dr. Miller’s and then mine and eventually Carol’s.

“Amen.” She smiled wide and that same warmth and happiness radiated out of her when she looked at her husband-to-be. “Should we get drunk and fool around?” She asked him, prompting Dr. Miller to plug his ears as if he was twelve years old.

I laughed out loud and Will snickered and shook his head.

“And she’s not even drunk yet,” he said with a laugh.

“Maybe I should’ve gone with the sixteen ounce,” Dr. Miller said, shaking his head with a smile.

“Are you going to do any skiing before the wedding?” Carol asked us.

Dr. Miller extended an arm across the back of the chair and grinned. He glanced at me and then back to his sister. “Possibly some snow tubing.”

“Safer.” She sipped her beer, “Good choice.”

“And are you two going to risk breaking a leg on the slopes between now and Saturday?” He asked them.

“We’re going to skip the black diamond,” Will said, joking around. “But we may take a few runs down the slopes tomorrow.”

“Risky business.” Dr. Miller brought the beer to his lips.

“It’s in our genes,” Carol reminded him.

“I would have to agree,” I chimed in with a shrug, “I mean, you started dating me.”

Carol gave a laugh. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” She purposely looked away and then back right away.

“Already the women side with each other,” Will said, pretending to be exasperated as he shook his head.

“Happy wife, happy life,” Carol reminded him with a little wink.

“Yes, dear.”

The night was fun and lowkey. Dr. Miller went up to get several rounds of beers for the group, denying each person who tried to jump in and pay, myself included.

The same group of guys down the end that had been singing earlier got the entire room singing Sweet Caroline when it came over the speakers from someone’s jukebox request. It was one of those nights that got sillier and sillier and sillier.

I hadn’t been drunk in quite awhile, but I began to feel the effects of the alcohol and found myself singing along, swaying and holding Carol’s hand as we pumped our fists in the air to the, ‘Ba, ba, ba’ part of the song.

Honestly, I had never seen Dr. Miller so carefree since I’d known him. It was refreshing and rejuvenating to be a part of such a cheery, upbeat atmosphere. All the tenseness from the week had all but vanished. And it felt amazing.

When we finally cashed out and decided to call it a night, we exchanged hugs all around. I turned to Dr. Miller and gave a him a firm kiss on the lips when his sister and Will had rounded out of the lodge.

“You’re not ready to call it a night, yet, are you?” He asked.

I smirked at him. “What do you have in mind?”

Dr. Miller eyed an oversized clock on the wall. “We have about forty-five minutes-”

“Until what?” I interrupted, largely because of the buzzed feeling that left my filter flying out the window.

He laughed a boyish laugh. “Let’s get our coats.”

“And then what?”

“And then I’ll show you.” He held out a hand and led me back up to the room. We bundled up quickly, despite my several silly attempts to seduce him, and then I let him lead me out into the night.

“Thirty minute warning,” a worker with a bright, red jacket informed us as we made our way toward the thinning crowd on the slopes.

“Where’s the tubing hill?” Dr. Miller asked.

The man extended an arm, “Take that lift up right over there.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, no.” I smiled and laughed as he towed me toward the station to retrieve a pair of snow tubes. We then made our way toward the lift.

When we got there, Dr. Miller helped me onto the seat with a one, two, three and then we were being raised into the cold, mountain air.

“Wow.” I soaked it in. “I’ve never even been on a ski lift. How do we get off?”

“We kind of.. glide and run.”

“Great.” I laughed again. “You may have to catch me.”

“Always.” Dr. Miller continued to stare in my direction until I turned back to him so we could share a kiss.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For one of the funnest nights.. ever.” It was all I could come up with at the moment and we laughed together.

“It has been fun,” he agreed.

When we got close, he motioned up ahead. “Alright, we have to kind of just jump off and pepper your feet as you go so you don’t fall.’

“I’ll try.”

“Ready?”

“Nope!”

The bar raised and I giggled as he helped me off, stumbling as we went onto the snow. Neither of us fell, but it was hardly graceful.

“Wow, okay!” I reset. I was ready. “Now what?”

“Come on over.” Another man in a red jacket waved us on and we wandered down over toward him. “You can go side by side in these two lanes if you want.”

I could clearly see the man made snow lanes that had been made. They looked like giant, icy slides.

“Ready now?” Dr. Miller asked, taking the lead as he planted his tube and laid head first on top of it where the worker instructed him to do so.

I breathed out a wintery breath and laid down on my tube beside him. “What does the winner get?”

“What does the winner want?” Dr. Miller smirked at me.

“Beers or sex,” the young man butted in from behind us. When we both looked back at him he added, “That’s what people usually bet on up here.”

I let out a laugh and raised my eyebrows. “How about both?” I asked him.

“Sounds like a win-win,” Dr. Miller said.

“When you’re ready to go, just push yourself to the spray painted red line,” the worker explained, “ Once you’re past that, there’s no turning back.”

I walked myself up with my hands and feet, feeling like a turtle with an upside down shell. When I got to the faint line, I glanced over at Dr. Miller. “Should we count to three?”

“One..” He began, “Two..” There was a dramatic pause and I finally cracked a smile. “Three!”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

110 notes · View notes

jrob64 · 10 months ago

Text

Pet for Rent , Chapter 4/4 (The Happy Ending) A CS Modern AU Story

And so we've reached the end of this little journey. Thank you for reading this story that was one way for me to move through my grief of losing Zeke. Some of you have mentioned that you've lost a pet and reading this has helped you, and that makes me very happy

This chapter earns the story its M rating, but the smut is bracketed by double rows of asterisks and can be easily skipped.

Thanks one more time to @hookedmom, who helped me work out the ending until it was satisfactory to both of us.

Chapter Summary: Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston get their happy ending.

Chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 (The Meet Cute) Ch. 2 (The Idea) Ch. 3 (The Adoption)

Rating: M (See note above)

Words: 9319

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

Story begins under the cut

Winston’s routine between the two households was firmly established during the next month. He spent weekdays with Killian at his apartment, and evenings at Emma and Henry’s house. On the weekends, all four of them spent as much time together as possible.

Emma and Killian were both happy to see that the dog was housebroken and didn’t require a lot of extra work. He did crave attention at times and demonstrated some behaviors that made them think he still had some puppy in him, but the three humans were consistent in their training to stop him from jumping up and barking excessively.

From the very first night he spent with them, he didn’t need to be put outside until morning, and slept soundly on Henry’s bed. The boy and dog formed a fast friendship and once again, Emma had her happy-go-lucky son back. He kept a picture of Ernie on his dresser and mentioned how much he still missed him from time to time, but the joy of having a new dog was healing his heart.

On Fridays and Saturdays, Killian would stay for a few hours after Emma got Henry into bed. They watched television, had lengthy conversations and kissed…a lot. Once they were sure Winston was acclimated to his new environment, they were able to plan another date to eat out and see a movie.

Their relationship was deepening, but they had yet to declare their love for one another. Killian was sure of his feelings for Emma, but didn’t want to spook her by saying anything. Emma wanted to make sure what she felt wasn’t just an infatuation. She had only fallen in love with one other man and had her heart shattered into a million pieces. She couldn’t afford to be wrong about her feelings again, especially since she now had Henry to take into consideration.

The bond between Henry and Killian was getting stronger as well. The two of them watched sporting events on TV, played video games, worked on training Winston and built Lego sets together. Emma was happy her son had a male figure in his life now, but worried about what would happen if Killian decided to move away from Storybrooke.

The first substantial snowfall of the season happened on a Friday in early December. School was letting out at noon due to the storm, which put Emma in a bind. Ashley couldn’t watch him because she was away for the weekend. Emma had already arranged to take off work at three o’clock instead of five, but she wasn’t able to leave another three hours early.

When she considered who else would be willing to help, the next person who came to mind was Killian. As she quickly placed the call, she tapped her fingernails nervously on the desk.

He answered before she even heard it connect. “Swan! This is a nice surprise.”

“You might not think so when I tell you why I’m calling.”

She could hear the instant concern in his voice when he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“They’re letting school out in half an hour because of the weather and Ashley is out of town. I can’t get off work until three o’clock and I need somebody to pick Henry up and watch him until…”

“Calm down, Love,” he interrupted. “Winston and I will pick him up and take him home.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to take you away from your work…”

“No worries. I’m finished for the day because I already put in extra hours this week.”

“Oh, good,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be picking him up. Since you’re not an authorized pick-up person, you’ll have to go inside to fill out a form when you get there. I’ll also text Mary Margaret and let her know. I really, really appreciate this, Killian.”

“It’s truly no problem, Love. I’ll get Winston ready to go right now. We should be there in about twenty minutes. Will that work?”

“That’s perfect. I need to warn you that it’s probably going to be a bit chaotic in the school office because of the early release.”

“Duly noted. I’ll send you a text when I’ve collected Henry and we’re in the car ready to go home.”

“Thanks, again. You’re a lifesaver.”

Ending the call, she sent up a prayer of thanks and went back to work.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was right about the chaos in the office. Killian had to wait several minutes before they could verify who he was and hand him a form to complete. Just as he was signing his name at the bottom, Mary Margaret ushered Henry in the door, along with two of her other students, whose parents were also waiting.

“Killian!” Henry cried, spotting him immediately.

“Hello, lad. Your mom asked me to pick you up.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Nolan told me. Thanks!”

“You’ll have to sign him out,” Mary Margaret explained, gesturing to the line of parents who were waiting to do that very thing. “Be careful driving home.”

“Thank you. You do the same,” Killian responded, stepping behind the last person in line.

Once Henry was properly signed out, they slipped and slid through the accumulating snow to where Killian had parked the car. Winston started barking from inside as soon as he caught sight of his boy.

While Henry greeted the dog and got himself buckled in, Killian texted Emma, then started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. So far, the snow was just making the roads slushy, but with such precious cargo in the back seat, he drove with extra caution.

By the time Emma arrived home three hours later, the snow was making travel hazardous. Killian heard her come in the door and paused the video game he and Henry were playing.

She was stomping off her boots and shaking the snow out of her hair when he greeted her. “Did you have any trouble, Love?”

“The roads are terrible and the snow is picking up, which means they’re only going to get worse.”

He helped her out of her coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. As she sat on a bench to pull off her boots, he scratched behind his ear and said wistfully, “Perhaps I should just go home now, if they’re getting that bad.”

She glanced up at him, then back down as she finished her task. Once both of her boots were sitting on the rug, she stood and looked toward the living room. “What’s Henry doing?”

“We were playing a video game. He’s probably waiting for me to rejoin him.”

“Let me go say hi to him, then I have something to ask you.”

“Okay, but first…” he said, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tender kiss. “Welcome home, Love. I’m very glad you made it safely.”

“Mmm, me too, especially when I get a greeting like that.” After giving him one more kiss, she linked their hands and led the way to the living room. Henry was sitting on the couch petting Winston, who was laying beside him. Both of them perked up when the adults entered the room, a wide grin splitting Henry’s face, while Winston thumped his tail on the cushions.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?”

“Great! I wish we could get out early every day!”

Emma laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. Were you able to go to art class? I know how you look forward to it.”

“We still got to go and I finished my Rainbow Fish project. It turned out really good!”

“Oh, yeah? Did you bring it home?”

“No, it had to finish drying. Mrs. Fisher said she wants to hang it up in the hallway.”

“Maybe I’ll schedule a day to come in and have lunch with you, and you can show it to me then. How does that sound?”

“Cool! I love it when you have lunch with me!”

“I know. I love it, too. Let me know when it’s hung up, okay?” She watched him nod his agreement, then asked, “What have you three boys been up to this afternoon?”

“We went out and played in the snow for a little while, but it got too windy and cold. Killian made hot chocolate when we came inside. Winston loved the snow, didn’t you, boy?”

“He was trying to catch all of the snowflakes,” Killian laughed. “Then he started eating the snow on the ground. He’s such a funny pooch.”

“Show her the picture you took, Killian,” Henry urged.

Killian pulled his phone out of his front pocket and opened his photo gallery. Holding it so Emma could see, he said, “I took several pictures and a couple of videos.”

As he started scrolling through them, he didn’t see the doey-eyed look she gave him before directing her attention to what he was showing her. When he came to the last picture, she burst out laughing. In it, Henry was kneeling on the ground beside Winston, who had snow all over his muzzle.

“He looks like he has a white beard,” she giggled.

“Aye, Whitebeard the Weird, distant relative of Blackbeard the Pirate,” Killian chuckled.

Emma laughed again, then asked her son, “Where did you put your wet clothes?”

“Killian put them in the dryer.”

“Henry showed me where it was located.”

“Thank you. He usually lets them lay in a heap inside the door.” Turning back to Henry, she said, “What else did you do?”

He picked up the Nintendo Switch controller, gesturing to the TV with it. “We played video games until you got home.”

“Sounds like you guys had a good time.”

“We did,” Henry assured her. “And don’t worry, Mom. I thanked Killian for everything.”

“Aye, he did. Henry has very good manners, don’t you, lad?” Killian said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Yeah. Are you ready to finish our game?”

“Your mother wanted to talk to me about something first, then I should probably head home. She said the roads are getting bad.”

Henry’s shoulders drooped. “But I thought you would stay like you always do on Fridays.”

Emma said, “Henry, why don’t you play a game by yourself for a while, so I can talk to Killian?”

“Can I play Mario Kart?”

“You know the rules - only if you turned in all of your homework and didn’t get your card pulled for bad behavior this week.”

He jumped off the couch and grabbed his book bag from the recliner where he had tossed it when he got home. Unzipping it, he pulled out a folder and handed it to his mom.

She took it and pulled out the papers from the ‘keep at home’ side, placing them on the end table to look at later. Then she took a sheet from the ‘return to school’ pocket. After looking it over, she gave Henry a smile and kissed him on the forehead. “Good job, kid. I’m proud of you.”

While he was putting the folder back in his bag, she went to the closet and got the treasured game off the shelf above the coat rack. As soon as he got the game set up and was fully engaged in choosing his racer, Emma motioned for Killian to follow her into the kitchen.

She leaned against the front of the sink out of Henry’s line of sight, and Killian stood in front of her, his hands on her hips. “What did you want to talk to me about, Swan?” he asked, a concerned crease across his forehead.

Her eyes remained focused on the floor for several moments. When she finally looked up, there were tears in them.

He stepped closer, dipping his head to scan her face. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “I just…I…I think I love you.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”

“I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you, Killian Jones.”

He surged forward, claiming the lips that just uttered the words which were music to his ears. He could have kissed her for hours, but he needed to ask her a question. “When?”

“When did I fall in love with you?” she asked, seeking to clarify.

“Aye. When did you know?”

She licked her lips. “I think I’ve been falling for you since the first day we met, but I wanted to make sure it’s really love that I feel. I’ve been burned before, and with Henry to consider, I didn’t want to jump right into a serious relationship. Then today, I just…I realized…I mean, you’re there for me, for us. You’re wonderful with Henry and it…it’s not because you’re trying to impress me or win my affections through my son. You honestly seem to like spending time with him. You dropped everything to pick him up today and then, those videos and pictures…you took videos and pictures of my kid because you were having fun with him.”

She paused for a second and he waited, understanding she needed to gather her thoughts. “But it’s not just because of Henry. That’s important, but it…it’s the way you make me feel. I love every minute we spend together. I can never get enough of being with you. As soon as you leave, I immediately look forward to the next time we’ll see each other. I…I…oh hell, I’m rambling and not making any sense.”

“You’re making perfect sense. I completely understand what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?”

He framed her face with his hands, brushing the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “Aye, because I feel the same way. You’re the best part of my day, whether we’re texting, talking, or actually together. I truly do love spending time with Henry because he’s such a great kid and I would never use him to try to impress you, Emma.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ve known for a while, too. That I love you. I’m in love with you, Emma Swan.”

The brightness of her smile was nearly blinding and it was her turn to initiate the fiery kiss. Afterwards, they stood with their foreheads pressed together, while her fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

“Of course, Love. Anything.”

She looked into his eyes. “Are you still thinking about moving away from Storybrooke?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “I’ve got every reason in the world to stay right here.”

“Good.”

He kissed her sweetly, then sighed. “I hate to ruin this moment, but I really should get started for home. The road conditions are probably worsening by the minute.”

“Actually, that was the original reason I wanted to talk to you. I was thinking that maybe…you could…stay here tonight.”

“Why, Swan,” he teased, “are you inviting me to a sleepover?”

“Well, it would be a very adult sleepover,” she said, watching him closely to gauge his reaction.

He tilted his head and studied her for a moment or two. “Are you saying…you want me to actually sleep with you?”

“I guess we would sleep eventually…”

“Emma, are you sure you’re ready to take that next step?”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” he said quickly. “I just…would you be comfortable having me stay with you when Henry is right down the hall? We could…we could wait until we’re at my place, if you’d rather.”

“This isn’t spur of the moment, Killian. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I think Henry is too young to understand what it means for you to spend the night and still be here in the morning. He just loves having you here and is always sad to see you leave. I’m not saying it’s going to be something that happens every night…”

“I wouldn’t expect that, especially during the week, but perhaps on the weekends?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Of course, we might be jumping the gun to consider more than tonight. You might be appalled by my snoring, drooling, or what I look like first thing in the morning. Or maybe we won’t be…compatible…in bed.”

He grinned. “I highly doubt that will be the case, Emma. Ever since the day we met, I’ve felt like we have a connection to each other that goes beyond friendship. I can’t imagine that not transferring to the bedroom. As far as your snoring and drooling, I’m sure I’ll find it to be absolutely adorable.”

“Whatever you say,” she scoffed. “But when you wake up with my morning breath in your face, you might change your mind.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smirked.

She began playing with the buttons on his shirt. “There’s, um…there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

“What’s that, Love?”

After stepping away from him to check on Henry in the other room, she returned to face him again. “I haven’t been…intimate with anyone since Henry’s father. Henry is my world and everything else has taken a back seat.”

“Which is quite understandable,” Killian said. “It’s been a while for me, too. After getting hurt like I did, I was in no hurry to be with another woman. You have changed so many things in my life, Emma, and I’m anxious to begin this next chapter with you and Henry.”

“Don’t forget Winston,” she quipped.

“How could I forget Winston?” he laughed.

“Okay, so how about we get some supper and watch a movie like we usually do on Friday nights? My guess is that after the excitement of the day, Henry will be asleep before it’s over.”

“That sounds wonderful, Love. What were you planning to eat?”

“I was planning to order pizza, but with the roads the way they are, I think we better go with plan B.”

“Which is…?”

“I have no idea.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Do you mind if I search your cupboards a bit?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and crooned, “You can search anything you want.”

“Swan, are you flirting with me to get me riled up?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

“Perhaps I would,” she answered, before scattering kisses along his throat.

“Bad form, Love,” he groaned.

“You don’t like it?” she asked innocently, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I like it too much, that’s the problem,” he said, pressing his hips against hers so she could feel the effect she was having on him.

“Okay, I’ll stop…for now,” she said. She started to move away and he reluctantly released her. “Dig around to your heart’s content and I’ll go see what movie Henry wants to watch.”

Killian ended up making spaghetti with garlic toast for supper. Afterwards, they watched “Luck” on AppleTV, while munching on chocolate chip cookies Emma whipped up. She and Killian managed to make the food while sharing lots of kisses in the kitchen.

Henry didn’t question Killian staying instead of going home; he was simply happy to carry on with their usual Friday evening routine. He made it through the movie without falling asleep, but was reluctant to move when it ended. Emma realized that he wanted Killian to carry him to his room, which he did, making her heart melt as she watched.

While Emma took Henry through his bedtime routine, Killian put Winston outside to do his business. Although he had cleared the patio of snow earlier in the evening, it was covered again.

When he took Winston into Henry’s room after toweling him off, he reported, “I’d say there’s at least six inches of snow and it’s still coming down.”

“Oh, boy!” Henry exclaimed, perking up. “Can you come over tomorrow to play in it with us again?”

Killian scratched behind his ear, looking to Emma for help.

“Actually kid, Killian is going to stay here overnight,” she said.

“He is?”

“Yeah. The roads are pretty bad and I didn’t want him to risk driving home. Is that okay with you?”

Henry gave her a puzzled look. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Emma shrugged. “He’s never spent the night here before.”

“Well, he should, because we’re usually together all day on Saturdays, too. It doesn’t make sense for him to go home.”

Killian and Emma exchanged a look, then he bid the boy goodnight, patted Winston and left the room so she could read to her son.

After kissing Henry and closing the door to his room, she found Killian sitting on the couch. “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether it’s going to bother Henry,” she said, plopping down beside him.

“Aye,” he chuckled, but she noticed he didn’t look at her.

“Hey,” she said, reaching to take his hand. “Is something wrong?”

“I, uh, I…if we’re going to take that next step in our relationship, I’m concerned about what to do because I don’t have any kind of protection.”

“Well, I obviously don’t have any STDs and I assume you don’t, either.”

“I don’t, but what about preventing you from getting pregnant?”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I have an IUD. My doctor suggested it because I had such heavy periods after Henry was born.”

“Well, that is a relief,” he said, finally looking at her. “Did Henry fall asleep while you were reading to him?”

“He was out before I read half a page. He actually held out longer than I thought.”

“Tomorrow will be another fun day in the snow for him.”

She turned on the sofa to face him, draping her legs over his. “I was meaning to ask you - did you bring along clothes to wear out in the snow?”

“Aye. Liam advised that I keep extra clothes in the car during the winter months, so I changed into them once we came inside.”

“Did you dry them with Henry’s clothes?”

“I did. I hope that was alright.”

“Of course. I want you to make yourself at home here. I was thinking it might be nice to put up the Christmas tree tomorrow.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure Henry loves doing that.”

“Oh yes, he really gets into it,” she laughed. “Although I’m sure you can’t imagine him getting excited about anything!”

Her sarcasm made him chuckle. “That’s one reason why I enjoy being with him so much. He’s enthusiastic about everything.”

“You clearly haven’t seen him do his chores.”

“Well, that’s true,” he agreed with a grin. “I suppose that’s typical for a kid.”

“Not just a kid. I hate doing chores, too.”

“You know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his lap, “I could think of much better things to talk about than chores.”

She adjusted herself so her knees were on either side of his hips, her hands on his shoulders and her forehead resting against his. “Like the fact that I love you?”

“Aye, that’s a much better subject,” he said, nuzzling her nose. They indulged in a long, slow kiss, while their hands roamed each other’s body. “I love you, too,” Killian murmured against her lips. In response, she deepened the kiss and adjusted her position, putting more pressure on his groin. “Swan…” he rasped.

“Maybe we should move to the bedroom,” she whispered in his ear.

The tickling sensation and implication of her words served to increase his arousal. “I like that idea, Love.”

She kissed him one more time, then pushed herself off of him. Threading her fingers through his, she tugged him to his feet. As they quietly moved down the hall, Emma stopped outside Henry’s door, listening intently. Giving a nod, they continued into her bedroom and she closed the door behind them.

“He’s out for the night,” she commented.

“You can tell that just by listening for a few seconds?”

“He’s a mouth breather, a loud one. He probably needs to have his tonsils and adenoids removed, but up until now, I haven’t had a job with good insurance. I just haven’t taken him to the doctor yet.”

“What about Winston?”

“If he needs his tonsils and adenoids out, I’ll let you pay for it,” she teased.

“You’re hilarious, Swan,” he remarked, trying to look stern, but failing to keep the smile from taking over his face.

“Yeah, I know,” she smirked. “Winston has slept through the night since the first night we brought him home.”

“In that case,” Killian said, sauntering into her personal space, “I guess the night is ours.”

“I guess so,” she said, then nervously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Tilting his head, he looked into her eyes for several seconds, then brushed some locks of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Emma, please don’t feel like we have to go ahead with this if you’re…”

“No, Killian,” she interrupted firmly. “I really want this, I’m just…out of practice, I guess.”

He put his hands on her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Relax, Love. Just let things happen naturally, and if they don’t, then we sleep instead. No pressure, okay?”

“You know, the first time I saw you, I had to convince myself you were real. I was sure no one as handsome as you could actually exist. And now, you say something like that and I have to convince myself that you’re real all over again. I mean, when a guy’s girlfriend is offering them sex, how many would say it’s okay if it doesn’t happen?”

“Probably more than you think. I would hope there are more gentlemen than rogues out there.”

Emma thought about that for a few moments, before saying, “I should wash my face and brush my teeth. Why don’t you, um, get comfortable in here and I’ll go take care of that.”

He watched her leave the room, then ran his hands through his hair. He longed to show Emma how much he loved her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable or pressured in any way. After stripping down to his navy blue boxers and white T-shirt, he sat on the bed to wait for her to return.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, she was quietly berating herself in the mirror. “You have this sweet, sexy, perfect boyfriend in your bedroom and you come running in here like a scared rabbit. What is wrong with you?” she asked her reflection. When she didn’t receive an answer, she sighed, tossed a washcloth into the sink and turned on the hot water.

After she finished in the bathroom and padded back to her room, she tapped lightly on the door before entering. Killian looked up at her from his seat on the bed, concern etched on his face. “Alright there, Swan?”

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I, um, I laid an extra toothbrush out for you if you wanted to, um, brush your teeth,” she stammered.

“Thank you, Love.” He stood up and slipped out the door.

Emma used the time to change out of her clothes and into a turquoise nightshirt that barely covered her underwear. She was standing in front of her dresser brushing her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she said, when it didn’t open right away.

As Killian entered, she saw his reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before he left the room; but now, she saw that he was utterly tantalizing in very little clothing. It made her mouth go dry, but at the same time, made all of her nervousness vanish.

Turning toward him, she saw the anticipation on his face and quickly crossed the space between them. Standing in front of him, she reached up and cupped his face, then pulled him down to connect their lips, trying to pour every ounce of her love into the kiss.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her snugly against himself. She’d been in his arms many times, but there were always more layers of clothing between them. Feeling his well-defined chest pressed against hers and his strong back under her roaming hands, she could feel her own body reacting.

Finally breaking the kiss, she said breathlessly, “I’m sorry for being so hesitant. I asked you to stay and then I let my nerves and insecurities get to me. It’s just that, in the past, people were always letting me down…”

“Let me assure you, Love,” he said, softly stroking the tips of his fingers over her cheek, “I don’t intend to let you down or hurt you in any way. You mean far too much to me to ever let that happen, trust me.”

Her eyes searched his, knowing she would see nothing but sincerity and love in them. “I do trust you,” she whispered. Taking his hands, she backed up until the backs of her knees hit the bed, then sat down and pulled him down beside her.

*********

“I’m yours,” she said. “Make love to me, Killian.”

Twisting his body, he embraced her, then rolled them until he was on top of her in the middle of the mattress. “As you wish,” he grinned.

They took their time undressing each other between impassioned kisses, their lips finding the skin that was revealed with every discarded article of clothing. Killian paid special attention to Emma’s bare breasts when he removed her shirt, his mouth and calloused fingers on the sensitive flesh making her body sizzle with desire.

When she pushed his boxers down his legs, her eyes widened as she took in the size of his manhood. Her hand wrapped around it, the smooth skin feeling like satin on her palm.

As she slowly stroked him, his fingers moved between her thighs, feeling the damp heat. She widened her legs as one finger made its way inside her. “Killiannn,” she whined.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into her ear.

“Yesss…so good.”

“What you’re doing feels good to me, too,” he assured her. He pushed himself up to lean on one elbow, sweeping his eyes up and down her form. “Gods, Emma. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” he praised. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Her hands moved to his chest, fingers swirling through the generous dusting of hair. “So are you.” The fingers of one hand followed the dark trail of hair down his belly and between his legs to fondle his testicles, satisfied when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

They continued to explore, working one another up until both were panting and pleading. Killian took his time ensuring that Emma was prepared, using his fingers around and inside her opening to make her slick with arousal. At the same time, her attention to his cock and the way she scratched her fingernails over the skin of his chest and back made him the hardest he’d ever been.

As he sucked love marks into the soft skin of her breast and rubbed his thumb over her clit, she gasped, “Killian, I…I’m ready.”

He looked up at her through his long, dark lashes. Her skin was flushed, her tongue licking at her kiss-swollen lips. As his eyes connected with her lust-filled green ones, a rush of love and longing crashed over him. “I love you, Emma,” he said, moving up to seal the declaration with another kiss.

“I love you, too. So much,” she replied, running her fingers through his damp strands of hair. Then she shifted on the bed so he could settle between her thighs.

Holding himself above her on one elbow, he reached down to grasp his cock, rubbing it through her slick, wet folds, then slowly began pushing forward. His eyes scanned up her body to study her face, hoping to catch any sign of discomfort in her features. He halted his progress when he detected a slight grimace. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

“No, no,” she assured him. “It burns a little, but mostly it feels…amazing. Please don’t stop.”

He was happy to hear those words, because being only partially inside her felt incredible, and he yearned to keep going. Dropping his elbow down to the other side of her body, he pulled back a little, then pressed forward again, going deeper inch by inch, until he was fully engulfed in her warm, tight sheath.

Resting his head on her chest, he ground out, “Bloody hell, Emma. You feel fucking fantastic.”

She skimmed her hands through his hair. “It feels like you were made for me,” she whispered. Bending her knees, she pulled her feet up beside his hips and gave a slight thrust of her pelvis.

He got the hint and began rocking slowly, savoring every moan and gasp from her. Sensing that she had adjusted to his size, he pulled out until only his tip was still inside, then slid all the way back in with one stroke, gradually picking up the pace.

“Faster…deeper,” she begged.

He obliged, thrusting into her several times in quick succession. Her hips raised off the bed to meet him every time, while her fingers gripped his hair almost painfully.

“Killian, I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Let go, Love,” he encouraged, knowing she was right on the edge.

Throbbing heat and a sudden flood of wetness around his cock told him that she followed his command. She crossed her ankles behind his back, trying to pull him closer, while her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow.

He stilled within her, trying to delay his own climax. As good as it felt to have her pulsing around him, he didn’t want it to end so soon.

“T-top,” she mumbled.

“You want to be on top?”

“Mmhmm.”

After wrapping his arms around her, he carefully rolled them over. Emma planted her hands on his chest and pushed herself up, her knees tight against his hips. His hands gripped her forearms as she began lifting and lowering her pelvis, his cock sliding in, then almost out of her over and over again.

Killian was muttering a steady string of praises, telling her how perfect she was and how good she felt. Raising his head, his mouth found one of her nipples, alternately rolling his tongue over it and sucking hard. The effect caused her rhythm to stutter and she threw her head back, letting out a long, guttural moan of his name.

Feeling his release growing imminently closer, he started thrusting up into her. His hand moved down to find her clit, rubbing it roughly as he groaned, “Come again, Emma. Please come, Love. I…I can’t…”

With one final slide down on him, she did, shuddering and shaking as she cried out, “Yes! Yes, Killian!”

Watching her ecstasy, hearing her shouts and feeling her pulse around him brought him to his peak, too. He jerked and spasmed, spurting hot streams of cum inside her.

When she collapsed on top of him several moments later, he held her close, murmuring words of adoration into her hair. Gradually, their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, and Killian groped around the bed, finding the blanket and pulling it over the top of them.

*********

Emma sighed happily, pressing kisses to his throat and collarbone. “That was amazing! I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember sex ever being that good.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve never done it with me before,” he chuckled. Hearing her hum of agreement, he added, “It’s never been like that for me, either. Then again, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I think that’s what made it so much more intense and meaningful.”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his sternum, looking into his face. “I’m sure you’re right about that. I’m very glad we decided to take this next step. I feel like we’re more closely connected now.” She wiggled her hips, causing his softening length to shift inside her. “In more ways than one.”

He grinned and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Meeting you and Henry is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him; a slow, tender kiss that communicated her feelings more than words ever could. They cuddled a while longer before Emma slipped her shirt back on and went to the bathroom to clean up, bringing a warm washcloth back so Killian could do the same. After he put his boxers on and visited the bathroom himself, they burrowed under the covers, intertwining themselves and sharing more kisses until they finally drifted off to sleep - content, sated and thoroughly in love.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma awoke slowly the next morning, the smell of coffee tickling her nose. When her foggy brain remembered what happened the night before, she reached over to find the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and stretched.

She felt pleasantly sore in all the right places and smiled when she remembered how she had awakened in the middle of the night to find Killian watching her sleep. The sliver of moonlight seeping in through the slight opening between the curtains illuminated his mischievous blue eyes. It was then she realized he had worked her shirt up above her breasts and was gently massaging them. Soon they were engaged in round two, finding more ways to bring pleasure to one another.

Flinging back the blanket, she grabbed a robe out of her closet and put it on as she walked down the hall. She could hear Henry chattering before she reached the kitchen.

“...and after we play in the snow, we can play more games and watch movies and…”

“Slow down, lad,” she heard Killian say, his gruff morning voice sending shivers down her spine. “I think your mother has some plans for us today.”

“That’s right,” she said, joining them. “I think you’ll like what I have planned.” Peeking over Henry’s shoulder, she asked, “What are you eating, kid?”

“Killian made egg in a basket!” he said excitedly. “It’s really good and he told me he would teach you how to make it too, if you want.”

“Is that so?” she asked, passing behind the ‘chef’ and discreetly pinching his side.

“Bad form, Swan,” he chided playfully. “And to think I made coffee and breakfast for you.”

“Sorry,” she said, stretching to her tiptoes to kiss the underside of his scruffy jaw. He turned so her next kiss was to his lips.

“You guys are being gross,” Henry complained, making the couple laugh. “So what are we doing today, Mom?”

She poured herself a mug of coffee, splashed some creamer into it, then leaned against the counter to take a sip before answering, “I thought we would put up the Christmas tree and decorate it. How does that sound?”

“YAY!” Henry shouted. Winston started barking from where he lay under the table.

“Winston, enough!” Killian commanded and the dog quieted immediately.

“Good morning, sweet boy,” Emma said, bending down to ruffle his ears. “I didn’t see you under there.” Straightening up, she asked her son, “Did you already feed him?”

Henry’s ears reddened. “Uh, no. I forgot.”

Emma gave him a stern look. “You know you’re supposed to feed your dog before you sit down to eat, young man.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, hopping out of his seat and going to the pantry where the dog’s food was stored.

“Apologize to Winston, not me.”

Henry scooped out the food and dumped it into Winston’s bowl. “I’m sorry, boy,” he said, as he set it down beside the refrigerator where the dog sat waiting.

Killian laughed as he watched Winston inhaling his food like he was afraid it was going to disappear. “I think he forgives you, lad.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I already put him outside to do his business. The snow is up to his belly, but he found a spot by the side of the house that wasn’t quite as deep.”

“How long have you been up?” she questioned.

Killian glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Almost an hour.”

“Wow, you’re a morning person. It usually takes me half-an-hour just to pry my eyes open and get out of bed, especially on a Saturday.”

“Well, you know what they say - opposites attract,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of her and sitting down beside her with his own.

As they began to eat, Henry returned to the table and asked, “When are we gonna put up the tree, Mom?”

“You can help decide. Do you want to do it before or after we play in the snow?”

He thought for a second. “Let’s go outside first. Can we bake gingerbread cookies like we did last year, when we decorated the tree?”

“I’m afraid not. We don’t have the necessary ingredients for that kind of cookie.”

Seeing Henry’s disappointed look, Killian said, “I know a good recipe for sugar cookies. Do you like that kind? I know your mother has all the ingredients for them.”

Henry perked up again. “Yeah! Can we decorate them? We have sprinkles left from when you tried to make cupcakes for Avery’s birthday, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that fiasco,” Emma groaned, making Henry giggle.

Killian looked between the two of them. “Why was it a fiasco?”

She covered her face with her hands as she answered, “I forgot the baking powder.”

“Do you mean to say,” he began, trying to contain his laughter, “that you baked cupcakes and didn’t put any baking powder in them?”

Dropping her hands, she replied indignantly, “Hey, it happens to the best of us. I’ve seen episodes of the Great British Baking Show where the bakers forget to put in key ingredients.”

“Point taken. Did you take the cupcakes to the party?”

“Are you kidding? They looked like hockey pucks! Of course I didn’t take them to the party.”

Killian laughed heartily, while Emma tried and failed to give him a reproving look. Instead, she dissolved into laughter, too.

“Mom picked up cupcakes at the grocery on the way to the party,” Henry said, then shoved another bite of food into his mouth.

“Well, I promised to bring them, so I had to do something.”

“Very resourceful, Swan.”

By the end of breakfast, they had the day’s schedule worked out. They played in the snow as soon as they were all dressed, then drank hot chocolate and baked cookies. While waiting for the cookies to be cool enough to ice and decorate, Henry and Killian brought the small artificial tree in from the garage.

As they were setting it up, Emma explained, “Henry wants to have a live tree, but I told him he needs to be a little older, because I don’t think I could get one unloaded and set up by myself.”

“Ah, well, if it weren’t for the fact we’re snowed in today, I could have helped you with that,” Killian said. “Perhaps next year.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope we’ll still be together by then.”

He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his warm embrace. “I have every confidence we will, Love.”

The day was the most fun any of them could remember. They decorated cookies and the tree while listening to Christmas music, played some board games, then watched two Christmas movies with only the lights from the tree and television illuminating the living room. Killian sat on the couch between Emma and Henry, both of whom were snuggled close to his side.

Emma and Killian shared many affectionate caresses and kisses throughout the day, unable to keep from touching each other. That evening, after Henry and Winston were in bed, they spooned on the sofa, quietly discussing plans for the next day, Christmas and New Years Eve.

Both of them were hopeful and excited about their future together.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Eight Months Later

“Great pass, Nicholas!” Killian shouted, running along the sidelines to coach his players. “Keep it under control, Grace! Get open, Henry! There he is! Pass it, Grace!”

As Henry’s kick sent the soccer ball flying into the goal, Emma leaped from her seat with a cheer, causing Winston to jump up and start barking. Everyone around them laughed, used to the excitable black dog who was always at the games to watch his young master.

When the game ended, Killian’s team was victorious for the third week in a row. Henry shook hands with the other team, then sprinted over to his mom and Winston.

“Good game, kid!” Emma exclaimed, returning his hug. “Your team is doing great this year.”

“That’s because we have the best coach in the whole world!” he beamed, taking Winston’s leash from her as the dog jumped around him enthusiastically.

Emma watched Killian gather his clipboard and Henry’s water bottle. Several parents approached him to offer their words of appreciation, and she smiled as he humbly accepted them.

He really was too good to be true, except that he absolutely was…and he was hers.

She turned to fold up her lawn chair and collect Winston’s favorite ducky toy, and soon felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind.

“Congratulations, coach,” she said, twisting in his arms to kiss him.

“Thank you, Love. The team is really starting to gel, don’t you think?”

“That’s because, as Henry just said, they have the best coach in the world.”

“He said that?” Killian asked, rubbing self-consciously behind his ear.

“Yeah, and I agree. They love playing for you, Babe.”

“Well, they’re fun to coach. I’m glad you talked me into it.”

“Pfft,” Emma scoffed. “I’m not the one who did it. It was that nine-year-old con artist who lives with us.”

“He can be quite persuasive,” he conceded. “Takes after his mother.”

“Hey!” she said, lightly slapping his chest. “I never talk you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

“That’s very true,” he murmured into her ear. “I’m always up for what you want me to do.”

She giggled and engaged him in another kiss, only to be interrupted by a loud, exasperated, “Mom! Killian! You guys are embarrassing!”

They broke apart with a laugh. “Sorry, kid,” Emma said, not sounding one bit apologetic. “Ready to go home?”

“Actually, Henry and I thought it might be fun to go to the nature preserve this morning,” Killian said. “Is that alright with you, Swan?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m glad I wore sneakers instead of sandals.”

They headed to the car and were soon on their way to the preserve. Emma noticed Killian shifting in his seat and nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh, um, aye. Just working out some energy left over from the game.”

She studied him for several more moments, then shrugged slightly and turned to ask Henry what he wanted for lunch when they got home, later.

There were several cars in the main parking lot at the preserve, so Killian kept driving until they reached a more remote section. Winston always got distracted if there were too many people around, so they tried to stick to the paths that weren’t likely to be as busy.

Once they found a place to park and were out of the car, Henry and Winston started along the path that led into the woods. Emma and Killian trailed behind, falling into easy conversation, as always. Their current topic was Belle and Liam, who were due to return from their honeymoon the following day. Despite being wed at the beginning of June, the couple waited to go on their trip until August, because Liam could get airline tickets for a much better price late in the summer.

“Bloody wanker, always after a discount,” Killian grumbled, not for the first time. “Even for his honeymoon!”

“Belle didn’t seem to mind,” Emma pointed out. “She was excited because the best time to see Beluga Whales in Alaska is during the month of August. I hope they were able to see some.”

“Aye, me too. That’s probably the reason Liam booked it for this month, anyway. He just wants to make everyone think he’s a miser.”

Emma wrapped her arm around his more tightly and leaned into him. “I definitely got the better brother,” she stated playfully.

“That you did, Love,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After hiking for twenty minutes, they came to their favorite spot on the path - a small fishing pond surrounded by tall, reedy grass and cattails. Henry and Winston started exploring the perimeter of the water, in search of frogs. Ever since finding one at this pond earlier in the summer, they were determined to find another.

“Care to sit down for a bit, Love?” Killian asked, indicating a wooden bench.

“Yeah. I’m sure the two of them will want to stay here a while.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the chirping of birds and buzz of insects. Finally, Killian turned to her and said, “We’ve known each other for almost a year now, haven’t we?”

“We met in September, so it’ll be a year next month.”

“It’s been the best year of my life.”

“Mmhmm. Mine, too. Especially these last three months when you officially moved in with us.”

“Well, I did have to live somewhere, since the lease on my apartment was up,” he teased.

“Oh, so now the truth comes out,” she shot back with a giggle.

“Aye,” he sighed dramatically. “I only love you for your house.”

“You’re so full of it, Jones,” she said, elbowing him in the side.

He leaned back and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, both of them watching Henry and Winston chasing what looked like a dragonfly.

“Those two are something else,” she remarked.

“They’re both good boys. I’m very lucky to be part of their lives.”

Emma hummed. “We’re all very lucky to have you in our lives.”

After another lengthy pause, he murmured, “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you, too.”

He slipped from his seat and knelt in front of her. “Enough to marry me?” he asked, looking up into her eyes, widened in surprise.

“Killian…wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.

“Isn’t it obvious, Love? I’m proposing. But I guess I’ve forgotten something, haven’t I?” Unbuttoning the pocket on the side of his cargo shorts, he reached in and withdrew a diamond solitaire ring, holding it up between them. “Emma, we may have met because of a mistake, but I don’t think of it that way. I’m convinced it was God’s plan for us to meet in just the right place at exactly the right time. You, Henry and Winston are the center of my world and that’s where I want you to be for the rest of my life. So, Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

She brushed at the tears trickling down her cheeks as a huge smile crossed her face. “Yes, Killian! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He took her trembling hand in his and slid the ring into place. Then he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hair, eyes, cheeks, and finally, her lips, salty with her tears.

Their celebration was cut short when Henry asked, “Did she say yes?”

Both of them dissolved into laughter. He was notorious for interrupting them when they were kissing, whether out of disgust or because he was simply oblivious.

“Aye, lad. She did,” Killian answered.

“Wait, you were in on this?” Emma asked her son.

“Yeah. Last night, Killian asked me if it was okay for him to marry you. I said it was, so that’s why we decided to come here after the game today - so he could oppose.”

“Propose,” Killian corrected, as Emma laughed.

Henry shrugged. “Whatever. So you’re getting married? We’re gonna be a real family?” His excitement grew as he realized what it all meant.

“Yeah, kid. We’ll officially become a family. What do you think about that?”

It wasn’t a surprise to either of them that his answer was a loud, “YAY!” while Winston barked his approval, too.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma and Killian were married sixteen months later, the day before the second anniversary of when they first declared their love for each other. Fortunately, there was no snowstorm on their wedding day.

Henry proudly walked his mother down the aisle to meet Killian at the altar. The boy shook his soon-to-be stepfather’s hand, then nearly tackled him in a hug, before taking his place beside Liam.

The ceremony was beautiful and perfect, which in Killian’s mind, matched his bride. Everyone had a wonderful time at the reception afterwards, celebrating the couple with food and dancing. Liam’s best man speech caused Killian’s face to turn red with embarrassment, as everyone else’s turned red with laughter.

The traditional father/daughter dance was replaced with a mother/son dance instead. As the two most important people in his life moved in small circles in the middle of the floor to the song “How Long Will I Love You?”, Killian repeatedly swallowed past the lump in his throat and wiped away a stray tear or two.

While the newlyweds enjoyed a honeymoon in a tropical climate, Henry and Winston stayed with Belle and Liam. The boy and his dog slept in the spare bedroom that was in the process of being turned into a nursery for Henry’s future cousin, due to arrive in two months.

Emma and Killian purchased a larger house, two blocks from the Storybrooke harbor, six months after their wedding. While they were signing the final legal papers for the sale, they were beginning another legal process.

One morning in October, Henry came into the kitchen and gave Winston an extra helping of food in celebration of their pet’s ‘gotcha day’. Sitting down at the table, he was excited to find his favorite breakfast of French toast with bacon on his plate, and folded pieces of paper beside it.

After drowning his food in maple syrup and taking a huge bite, he picked up the papers and asked, “What are these?”

“Open them and see,” Emma said, her face glowing with excitement as she met Killian’s eyes across the table.

Henry did as he was told, scanning the page until he realized that the first one was a certificate of adoption. His eyes shot up to land on Killian. “Does this mean you’re officially my dad?”

“Aye, lad, I’m legally your father. I signed the final papers a couple of weeks ago. We’ve just been waiting for that other paper to arrive before we told you.”

Henry slid the second paper out from underneath the first, his eyes widening even more. “It says Henry Andrew Jones. Is that really my name now?”

“Yeah, kid,” Emma answered. “That’s your new birth certificate and it names Killian as your father. What do you think?”

In answer, he jumped out of his chair and ran around the table to fly into Killian’s waiting arms. “I think it’s the best day of my life!” he exclaimed. “I love you, Dad!”

“I love you, too, my boy,” Killian replied, a slight catch in his voice at hearing Henry call him that title for the very first time.

Henry turned to give Emma a hug, also. “It’s pretty cool that Winston and I both have the same ‘gotcha day’,” he said.

His parents laughed. “I didn’t think about that,” Emma admitted.

That Christmas, their friends and family received a card which included a picture of Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston in front of their decorated, live Christmas tree. It was signed:

Happy Holidays! With love from the Jones family.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Thank you so very much for reading!

TAG LIST:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

#pet for rent #chapter update #chapter 4 #complete story #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #csff #cs fluff #cs smut #CS modern AU #Captain Cobra #ouat Captain Swan fanfic

34 notes · View notes

whitehartlane · 6 months ago

Text

Tottenham Hotspur’s Double winning team pose for a photo together with their trophies, 1961.

Back row, left to right: Bill Brown, Peter Baker, Ron Henry, Danny Blanchflower, Maurice Norman, Dave Mackay.

Front row, left to right: Cliff Jones, John White, Bobby Smith, Les Allen, Terry Dyson.

Bill Brown: Signed in the summer of ‘59. Proper keeper, is talked about in the same breath as keepers like Clemence, Jennings, and Lloris. Steadfast in this side.

Peter Baker: Born in Hampstead, he played for Enfield before coming to Spurs in ‘52. Played one game short of 300 and scored 3 goals as a right back. Got the job done and never let himself get ruffled by any winger; he’d love watching modern fullbacks nowadays.

Ron Henry: Only ever played for Spurs on the senior level, signing in ‘52. Fast and a good tackler, sound left back. He had a plant nursery and homing pigeons, and he stayed on with Spurs as a coach for the U18s.

Danny Blanchflower: Irresistible, incredible, incomparable. There will never be another like Danny. Signing from Villa in ‘54 and going on to head Northern Ireland, he was the captain of Spurs’ Double winning side and made this great team extraordinary. He had very progressive ideas of how the game should be played, fast and attacking and being allowed to use a ball during training, and was set on the idea that the glory—doing things in style—is what is special about the game. No one like him.

Maurice Norman: Signing in the winter of ‘55, he was an absolute assured and commanding figure at the back. Scored 19 goals over his 400+ appearances for Spurs; should’ve been a mainstay at centre half for England but unfortunately his career was cut short due to a double fracture in his tibia and fibula. Integral to the success of this side.

Dave Mackay: If the word legend had a picture accompanying its definition in the dictionary, surely Mackay’s face would be smiling back up at you. Coming from Hearts in the spring of ‘59, he is still described to this day as possibly the most complete midfield player Scotland has ever produced. He never gave up playing even when the rest of the team believed they had already won. A player who inspired everyone around him, others spoke of him as the ‘hardest man I have ever played against—and certainly the bravest.’ He was known famously as the heartbeat of Bill Nic’s Double winning side. Ange Postecoglou and Son Heungmin would have loved him.

Cliff Jones: Formerly Spurs’ top fifth goalscorer before Sonny overtook him, the Welshman signed for the club in the early spring of ‘58 from Swansea. He was a crucial player in the side who played on both wings, was faster than you could believe, always put a lovely cross in, and scored goals from flying headers. Still has lovely words to say about the club and his grandson, Matt Wells, is currently a first team assistant coach.

John White: Nicknamed ‘The Ghost’ due to his runs to find space off the ball that saw him arrive unexpectedly in the opposition’s penalty box, he was one of the most skilful players to ever don the shirt. Signed in the autumn of ‘59. His name bleeds into Spurs folklore as he was being primed to be the next Blanchflower but tragically passed away prematurely when struck by lightning while playing golf in ‘64. His teammates say about him: ‘While other players were someone you would have to bring into a game, John would bring himself into the game.’

Bobby Smith: For the days of centre forwards like him! Currently Spurs’ third top goalscorer, he joined from Chelsea in the winter of ‘55, clearly having recognised which the superior London club was. Twelve hat tricks over his career with Spurs, he was big and bustling and scored goals like nobody’s business. He scored 33 goals in 43 games in the Double-winning season—not too shabby.

Les Allen: Joining the club in the winter of ‘59, he immediately struck up a brilliant and lethal striking partnership with Smith, scoring 27 goals that Double-winning season. While living in Smith’s shadow a little and struggling to retain his place in the starting XI with the arrival of Jimmy Greaves, he was still an essential part of this side’s success. His son Clive Allen and his nephew Paul Allen both went on to play for Spurs.

Terry Dyson: A player who would nowadays be dismissed by talent scouts due to his height and is often not remembered in this side, but was the catalyst to Spurs’ success that season. He signed for the club in ‘55. A snappy winger who could put in a good cross, he is the only Spurs player to score a hat trick in the North London Derby to date. You can still find him trawling around academy matches.

#tottenham #football #spurs history #click read more for a little more info on each player 🤍🤍🤍#had lots of fun doing this <3 #rahul.txt

12 notes · View notes

ashs-random-writing · 1 year ago

Text

Anthropophobia

One-shot

Ao3

—

Every human knew the tales and legends of the mighty beasts that roamed the oceans, luring sailors closer and then murdering them in a violent rage.

As it turned out, Sirens also knew about humans. The tiny creatures that showed up everywhere with their uncanny little faces, and tiny eyes, and their general unsettling nature. If only anthropophobia was less common.

Anthropophobia- the fear of humans.

—

Virgil ran through the streets, hearing guards shouting behind him. He grimaced, imagining them catching up and arresting him. He ran through a crowd and took an unplanned turn towards the docks. The guards hadn’t caught up yet

He untied a small boat that had sat unused for months; no one would miss it any more than they’d miss him.

Virgil knew it was risky to take a boat, even if there were no siren sightings nearby. But, he had to get away. He’d take brutal but instantaneous death over getting arrested and wasting away in a cell for the rest of his days.

He rowed for a while, his food piled up on the other side of the boat. He could hear nothing but bird calls and the rippling waves as he moved the oars. And then suddenly the underlying panic that was always present in his mind disappeared, leaving only the want to follow the feeling reaching out to him. What was that sound…?

He rowed closer and closer, not thinking about how strange this was, how suspicious this was. He snapped out of it only when the song stopped, when he was unnervingly close to a pair of eerily large eyes, with no whites to them. Virgil knew that just a few metres below the water was a mouth with far too many teeth.

He felt himself go pale, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He looked around him; how far had he sailed? His boat was probably small enough for the beast to hold it in its hands

He shuddered as that assumption was proved correct, and the siren raised its upper body out of the water, two cupped hands under his boat and raising him closer to its face, giving him a perfect view of their sharp teeth and the way it was grinning. One of its hands curled around the boat and started tilting it, the other hand below.

Virgil tumbled out, too panicked to even think of holding on. This instantaneous death was not being very instantaneous. The monster made a series of noises that Virgil had no hope of interpreting, as Virgil lay in their hand.

He was trembling harder than he ever thought possible, staying as still as he could. It prodded him with one finger, gentler than he thought it could but still hard enough to hurt, and he scrambled away from the hand, unfortunately meeting the fingers of the hand he was in as he bumped into them

He glanced down to the water, would it be worth it to jump down and try to swim away? He saw for a moment that his boat was dropped and overturned in the water and his food was floating around before a huge hand showed up in front of him fast enough that he flinched harder than ever before. He doubted he could outswim a giant sea creature anyway.

It was making noise, presumably speaking in the garbled language. Far too loud, he thought, as his stress headache doubled.

He hoped it wouldn’t sing again any time soon, he quite liked having control over his movements. It was trying to block him away from the edges of its palm, similarly to how one would do with a bug.

The comparison made him nauseous as he recognised that he was that small compared to it. He was maybe only three inches compared to it, all too small, and far too fragile. He stood up, though was immediately knocked off of his feet as the siren shifted slightly

He looked at its face, finding it almost too big to look at it all.

He felt himself go even paler as a second pair of eyes opened beneath its normal ones. It brought him close enough that he could feel its breath ruffling his clothes. He shuddered.

It’s other hand lifted up, starting to cover him from the sky, like the motion to trap a firefly. The hands closed around him, leaving him completely in the dark and cold.

He could immediately tell when the giant took him underwater, even without the little bits of water starting to fill up the space between the two hands. They both stayed underwater for about ten seconds of dizzying motion, and then he was somewhat-gently deposited on a large rock shelf above a pool of water that looked hundreds of feet deep.

He backed away, still trembling. The siren had pulled itself out of the water mostly, and sat on a ledge in the cave, as though it hadn’t just kidnapped him. In this lighting, he noticed that it had ‘little’ glowing green patterns decorating its skin, blending in with the dull green skin

He sat down in a corner, watching the beast intensely. It came closer after a while, using one of its giant claws to scratch something into the stone.

Were those runes? It tapped the runes once they were finished being scratched into the stone, and a clear sphere started to form around the ledge. Virgil tapped it to test if it was dangerous and found that it was similar to glass.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. It was still speaking, though muffled a bit now. It ducked under the water and swam away. Virgil looked for a way out, denying himself any tears to fall.

Nothing. Nothing at all. He hit the ‘glass’ with a fist, sitting down again. Why was he the exception to the fact that sirens usually murdered any human they saw? Why did he have to get trapped, the one thing he was trying to avoid?

He curled up in the corner. His prison was quite expansive, perhaps the size of a small house, but it was still a prison. He glared at everything in this cave, every single collected thing, every shiny thing on every ledge. One thing was screaming in his mind: that he was just another collected thing to the giant.

It came back a few minutes later, emerging from the water with speed that he could barely comprehend. Its hands were filled with plants that looked like they were from land, even though they were soaking wet. He came closer curiously, and looked at the strange handful- was that a whole bush?

His bewilderment overtook his fear for a brief moment, until it looked at him again, two pairs of eyes locked onto him.

He skittered back, heart beating so fast it might explode. What was even going on right now? He groaned, pushing his head into his hands and sliding down the rock wall to sit on the floor. It was still watching

It reached through the barrier as if it was not there, which it definitely was, and placed the bushes and soft leaves in the prison with him.

After a few days, Virgil still had no idea what was actually happening. The uncertainty was eating him alive. He had rearranged the plants in his prison, to give himself a hiding place. They were thick enough that he couldn’t see the siren through them, and therefore it couldn’t see him.

Sometimes it would sing to itself. Virgil hated those times. He didn’t even think it knew it was luring him from his hiding spot, it usually noticed him only after a while, stopping singing to speak to him (or at him- it wasn’t like he could understand)

He still couldn’t get over the fear. It was so big, so fast, so loud. He spent most of the time cowering in the corner, staring at the wall. His eyes had adjusted to the dark well

He peeked out from behind the bushes and watched the siren swim out of the cave system. It usually brought him food when it did that. He stood up shakily, once again inspecting his prison for any faults, anything he could use to escape. Once again, nothing.

His knuckles had become bruised by how much he had punched the magic glass when he got frustrated with his captivity. The siren was back soon, nothing in its hands. Suspicious. Virgil went back to his hiding spot.

Another siren was behind it, this one more red in colour. Virgil shuddered. There was a tapping on the glass, accompanied by some words that Virgil couldn’t understand. He knew that this meant it wanted him to leave his hiding spot, and that if he didn’t, it’d reach in and get him anyway.

He wasn’t coming out. Willingly showing yourself to a siren was a death sentence. He could feel the siren's hand getting closer until it wrapped around him, lifting him through the glass. He was still trembling every time it got near him.

It presented him to the red one with some dramatic gestures that made him dizzy. Its hand uncurled, leaving him sitting on its palm. The red one let out a shriek that Virgil was sure made his ears bleed, as it catapulted itself backward

Virgil covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. The hand he was sitting on was shaking, as he heard what he assumed was laughter from the green siren. His legs had drawn up to his chest, and he laid on his side as he tried to erase that noise from his mind

He could hear Red saying something, not entirely shrieking now, but not not shrieking. He wanted to leave- to go somewhere else, anywhere else.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t go home, he could go somewhere else, and start a new life- except he couldn’t. He was trapped in the clutches of a giant siren, and there was no way he’d ever be able to escape the underwater tunnels without drowning.

Green prodded his side and Virgil curled up more.

He was placed in the prison again soon enough. The moment, the shriek, replayed in his mind over and over again as he stared into the darkness hours later

It reminded him of when a school child would find a spider in the grass and show their friends to freak them out. He had never thought about how it would feel to the spider, to be at the mercy of giants so much larger, to deal with the loud screaming and the complete lack of control. He wondered how many spiders had been traumatised by those school shenanigans.

The siren was under the waves, like it was for a lot of the day, but he could still see the glowing. He closed his eyes, but no sleep crept up on him.

He stared up. Was that what was happening? Were humans the spiders to sirens? He thought for a while

It would explain Red’s reaction maybe, and why sirens went into what seemed like murderous rage. Maybe it was just like when someone saw a spider and started panicking. He had certainly seen people go into what could be described as a murderous rage when seeing a spider.

So, why did they lure humans? He thought of his interactions with Green, how it would sing to itself and be surprised when he was drawn closer. His blood ran cold.

They didn’t know . They didn’t know their own power. The thing they were known for . He thought about all the casualties of siren song and he uttered the first word he said in days

“I’m sorry”

A single tear ran down his cheek and he looked around the cave. Of course he had to be found by the type of person who would keep a spider in a jar as a pet. Well, at least until it forgets about him. He wondered how long that would take; weeks? Months? Years? He would rather it happen sooner than later

He didn’t want to form a messed up attachment to his captor before it eventually forgot about him

He curled up behind the bush and waited for it to wake up.

—

Remus had been relaxing just above water for his daily fix of oxygen and sunlight, singing to himself as he slowly swam around.

A human floated into view a little while later. It hadn’t noticed him yet, and so he stopped singing, dipping his head further down into the water until only his eyes were above water. Well, at least his primary eyes; he didn’t need to see details just yet

It froze when it noticed him. Remus was wondering what it would feel like to be bitten by something so small. Roman said that it hurt.

He scooped the little guy up in its little boat. He wondered what it was seeing; an incomprehensible being? Was it feeling unimaginable terror? He grinned at the idea, though knew it was unlikely. Humans were too small for thoughts like that

He tilted the boat to get the human out, and it tumbled out, further than he expected. It laid unmoving for a few seconds in which Remus thought he might’ve accidentally killed it. That would’ve been disappointing, he decided, since he wanted to keep it as a pet.

He nudged it with his fingertip and watched as it scuttled back. That tickled.

It got closer to the edge and Remus dropped the boat and brought his other hand up to guard it away

“Woah there, little guy! If you fall off here you’re gonna die choking on water with no escape! I’m the better option, don’t you think?” He grinned, rambling a bit.

It stared up at him, and he opened his secondary eyes, bringing it closer. It was so small . Roman would be terrified, he realised, grinning harder.

So would most of his friends.

Remus gently placed his hand over his other one and tried to make sure no water would get in between them. He ducked underwater and swam home, placing the little guy on a ledge in the part of the cave above water and scratching some runes so it would have a place to stay.

He looked at it for a few seconds. It was empty, too empty to keep an animal in there.

The human looked up at him. He thought for a moment; what kind of plants grew where humans lived? Pretty much any plants from land would work, right? He set off to find some as the little guy explored the enclosure

He found some soft plants on an island nearby, and uprooted them to take to his new pet. It was a creepy little thing, like most humans, and immediately started moving the plants to create a little hide-away. Remus had always found humans strangely cute, in a way that made his brother extremely annoyed. Roman had never liked it when he brought humans home from his wanderings.

They were just so small, and pretty docile if they weren’t feeling threatened. Remus had heard a lot of people say that they were more scared of people than people were of them, and he had always wondered how much truth that held

He knew a lot of people who were downright terrified of the tiny little creatures. He wondered why humans always got so close to sirens if they were so afraid, but he didn’t dwell on it.

A few days later, he had begun to get very attached to the little creature. It stayed hidden a lot, only coming out when it was fed, and occasionally when he was singing or humming to himself. He named it Creepy, because it fit the description, primarily, but also because it would annoy his brother tremendously.

He suddenly remembered the fact that he hadn’t shown Creepy to his brother yet and grinned, swimming through his tunnels as fast as physically possible and towards his brother's cave.

“Roman! Roman! I need to show you my new pet! You’ll love it” he grinned, holding back a laugh

Roman sceptically followed him until they got back to the cave. Remus saw Creepy hide behind the plants and he got closer, tapping on the barrier and waiting for it to come out like usual, but it didn’t.

“Come on out, lil’ guy”

He reached in and grabbed it gently and dramatically presented it to his brother

“Ta da! My new pet!” He uncurled his hand and watched his brother’s reaction intently

The reaction was even worth the resulting scream. He laughed, bringing Creepy towards his chest and looking back up at Roman

“Remus! Why would you do that!? You know I’m scared of them!” His eyes were looking up at him and back down to the human like he was scared it was gonna leap at him

Remus looked down at Creepy, who had curled up like it did when nervous.

“Aw, look, you scared it! Say sorry,” he said, half teasingly, gently prodding Creepy’s side

“I scared it?” Roman asked, tone disbelieving “If anything, it should apologise to me! Or at the very least, you should” he crossed his arms, secondary eyes widening to show his mistrust

Remus shook his head, placing Creepy back into the enclosure and turning back to Roman as Creepy scuttled back to its hiding spot

“I mean, if you still fall for that, it’s on you. I’ve been pulling the same prank since we were kids” he shrugged and grinned

Roman glared at him, but didn’t argue

“I just don’t get how you can find that thing cute enough to be a pet,” he grumbled.

Remus shook his head, placing Creepy back in the enclosure.

“Oh, come on! How can you be scared of that little face!”

Roman stared at him. “I don’t know, they just show up everywhere and they just give me the creeps, ok?”

They talked for a while, before Roman inevitably left

Remus placed some food in the enclosure and ducked under the water to his bed. He wondered what Creepy was thinking about the situation.

He yawned, and fell asleep, head tucked into his arm.

When he woke up, the thing he did was swim outside for his daily dose of sunlight and basked in the light for about an hour, until the light got too much for him. Then he started swimming around.

The smaller fish avoided him mostly, but they were still annoying. He snuck a peek at one of the nearby islands, finding a lot of boats and a few humans.

Humans tended to be in groups of two or more, he noticed; was his human gonna get lonely? He thought about his human, pushing away the thought of how killable, how squishable, it was, and thought about its behaviour. It hid most of the time. Maybe another human would get it to be less skittish?

This routine was what he did every morning.

After yet another morning of this a few weeks later, he swam back to the cave and greeted his little friend by tapping on the wall of the enclosure. It walked forward towards him and sat down in front of the barrier. Remus’ tail splashed happily and Creepy skittered back, staring at the tail. Oh, right, humans didn’t really like water

He wondered how many humans had drowned in his lifetime, and what it would feel like to drown. He couldn’t imagine it. He had found several dead humans in sunken ships (Roman refused to go near them) and he had always wondered how long it had taken them to die.

He looked at Creepy consideringly. What would happen if he threw it into the water? He shook his head, and ruffled Creepy’s hair. He wouldn’t hurt Creepy.

He started singing to distract himself from his thoughts. Oddly enough, Creepy became more alert, staring up at him with more intensity, getting closer to the barrier.

Remus tilted his head. He had noticed that his singing would sometimes make Creepy come closer, but to see the immediate shift in the behaviour was interesting. He stopped singing and watched it back away a bit

He started singing again and it once again got closer, standing up straighter and trying to get to him.

This was so cool! He grinned. He wondered if it would work on other humans than Creepy. He experimented with the singing for a while, a few hours maybe, before deciding to stop the game and do something else.

Creepy ran back to its hiding spot after they were done playing, and Remus watched it arrange the plants again to completely surround itself. Remus imagined what would happen if it would respond to his singing while it was surrounded like this. It would probably catch its skin on one of the pointier branches and die a bleeding, painful death. It was a good thing he stopped, he decided

Humans were always so fascinating to him, how complexly they acted, but he was the only person he knew who had ever noticed that. Everyone else was too scared to even look at a human without screaming or trying to get rid of it.

But, Remus had always loved watching them.

A few days later, he swam out of the cave and up to the surface. He could see one human sitting on the shore of a nearby island. It froze when it saw him, and he tested his newfound ability.

Much like Creepy, it immediately changed in posture and ventured towards the water. Cool! It would even make humans go towards the water without a boat? He knew how dangerous that was, so when it got to the water he grabbed it and stopped singing.

He swam towards his cave, holding the human above water until they got close enough, then he ducked under water and swam as fast as possible through the tunnels and deposited his new human in the enclosure with Creepy.

The humans stared at each other and Remus had a sudden thought of them ripping each other apart, before they started making noises. He had heard Creepy make noise every so often, but very rarely and very quietly. He grinned.

The new human was smaller, so he named it Tiny. He watched them for hours, though they paid almost no mind to him. He wondered how it felt to be so small

—

Virgil hadn’t grown used to life in the cave. It had been weeks, and it had only gotten worse from then. The red one had visited semi-frequently, though practically did everything to avoid looking at him. Virgil was glad; he didn’t want to deal with even more screaming.

It still did what he called a mini-shriek if it caught sight of Virgil moving around too suddenly, or even at all. Virgil had never been able to shake the sound of the first shriek from his mind.

He shuddered. Red hadn’t come back since Green had discovered that it could draw him forward by singing. It would toy with him for hours at a time, grinning as it forced him forward, let him try to go back and bringing him forward again, until it eventually got bored.

Virgil hunched in the corner, and watched the siren swim away. He grit his teeth and started looking around the cave again. He couldn’t cry. If he admitted the hopelessness of the situation, it would only make it worse to bear.

He took a shaky breath and held his head against his knees. He was going to get away, somehow, somewhere. He was going to get out of this- he was going to get away.

The siren returned a while later, another human in its hands. They were placed behind the glass like him, and sat there seemingly in shock for a few moments. They looked around, squinting at the dark and adjusting their glasses.

“It takes a while for your eyes to adjust, you won’t see much yet,” he offered to the stranger, who seemed startled. Their eyes locked on Virgil after a few seconds of trying to find the source of his voice

“Where are we? Why did it bring me here?” The stranger had an accent to their words, one that Virgil recognised from further south on his home island

“Well, we are inside magical glass in a stupidly large cave for reasons that I only have a theory of” he offered, probably sounding bitter

“Hmm… would you mind telling me your theory? I’m working with almost no reference here” they came closer, and Virgil moved aside some plants for them to get closer to him

“You know how people are usually scared of spiders but there’s always that one person who keeps spiders in jars? Well this,” he gestured around him “is the jar”

The stranger looked at him with a contemplative look

“That implies that most sirens are scared of us,” They said after a few moments, looking at the siren, which was just there, staring at them both

“I think they are,” Virgil replied, thinking of the red siren and the unholy screech it let out at the mere sight of him.

“Think about it, how many people completely freak out when they see a spider and don’t calm down until it’s dead? That’s what sirens do!” He elaborated

“Do you have any definitive proof that they’re scared?”

Virgil once again thought about the scream.

“Just wait for the red siren to visit,” he didn’t offer any more elaboration for that statement.

They talked for hours, deliberately ignoring the giant face that was staring down at them.

The new guy was Logan, an aspiring scholar. Virgil didn’t mention his own line of work.

Virgil told him how most days were in the cave, and answered questions about the siren song situation. Logan seemed to absorb knowledge like a sponge.

The next few days were not as bad as they were alone. The green one had added more plants to the prison, and so there were more hiding spots. Logan had been subjected to the utter torture that was Green singing, stopping and singing again, which was less good, but Logan had yet to be subjected to the shrieking of Red.

Virgil had made sure to keep an eye out so Logan knew to cover his ears when the red one showed up.

Green was out of the cave at that moment, so Logan and Virgil had a precious moment to talk in peace. They weren’t talking about anything in particular, but Virgil still cherished it. He had never thought he’d miss human interaction this much.

Virgil didn’t talk much, instead he listened to Logan speak, and kept a look out for the siren returning. It was about an hour later that the green siren arrived, and Logan and Virgil went back into their hiding place.

It placed some food in their prison and started placing things on different ledges in the cave. It almost reminded him of when he would find something cool when he was on a walk and put it up in his room. He knew the comparison was pretty accurate, but he didn’t want to think about how the siren was a person.

A person who was keeping them captive for entertainment. It was easier to think of it as a monster or a beast than to recognise that it was just as sapient as him. He watched it, trying to ignore any familiar actions.

It swam towards them a few minutes later, Virgil was mostly hidden, and so was Logan, but they were peeking over the bushes to watch the siren.

It didn’t seem to notice them both, looking through the glass at different hiding spots. It gave up trying to find them and instead tapped on the glass to try get them out. It always was annoying if they didn’t eat their food immediately. He glanced at the tapping fingers with an emotion he couldn’t identify.

If it really wanted them to come out, maybe it should’ve stopped being annoying. He ducked down further and crossed his arms.

Logan looked at him with an unreadable look

“Are you okay, Virgil?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper

Virgil stayed completely still and silent. He was sick of this whole thing.

He wanted to get out. The tapping was getting quicker, louder, matching Virgil’s breath. He drew his knees up to his chest and gripped his hair in his hands. His breathing was getting worse the more he could hear the siren's insistent tapping.

Soon he could hear nothing but his own breathing, his heartbeat, and the blood rushing in his ears. Everything else was gone. He could feel movement next to him and he tried to ground himself.

It took a while for him to come to his senses, to stop hyperventilating, but when he did, he noticed Logan in front of him, holding his hands and gently talking him into calmness. Virgil smiled falteringly

“Thanks, and, uh, sorry… about that,” he mumbled lamely

Logan looked at him. Virgil felt like there was something he wasn’t telling him.

Virgil tried to peek out from behind the bushes, but Logan pulled him down

“Keep your eyes on me,” he instructed, which made Virgil only want to look out more. He had never been good at following advice from people.

“Virgil. Do not look out there. It will only send you into another panic. You’ve already hyperventilated enough that your lips are going blue, you don’t need more”

Logan’s voice was firm, but it was calming. Virgil nodded, realising that his lips did indeed feel weird. Then he realised just how lightheaded he felt. He looked at the food that was just in his line of sight. Logan followed his gaze, and looked back at him.

“I’ll get us some food, you stay here,”

Virgil resisted the urge to look out at the rest of the cave, and instead focused on Logan.

He rested his head on the stone wall behind him. This whole thing was so… fucked up. Everything was so fucked up.

He was going to live and die in a glass prison because giant monsters saw him as nothing more than a bug, or animal. He finally felt himself cry. Logan brought the food closer and Virgil noticed for a second that he glared at the siren (or sirens? He was sure he could hear more voices)

Logan didn’t ask about his crying, just wordlessly passing food. He was going to ask Logan what exactly happened whilst he was out of sorts, but later. Right now, talking didn’t seem like a viable option. He could hear splashing, muffled through the glass

He closed his eyes. He could think when he woke up, he was too tired to mope anymore.

When he woke up, Logan was behind a different bush than him, glasses askew as his face pressed against the ground. Virgil shakily stood up and looked out at the cave. He froze under the gaze of the green siren, and felt like nothing more than a deer in headlights.

His heartbeat had gone through the roof, and he felt the instinctual urge to hide, but his body did the opposite and he just stood there.

Green came closer, Virgil flinched back and his body was startled back into motion. He ran behind another bush, noticing Logan wake up. Virgil didn’t know what exactly had triggered his fear this time; he hadn’t been this scared in weeks .

Everything was amplified to him. He didn’t know anything, he had never felt more like an animal than that instance, hiding and relying on instinct. Logan approached him a little while later.

He just looked up, feeling more helpless than he had ever felt. How long had it been since he had seen the sun? How long had he been in this prison? How long would he stay there? The rest of his life? Would Logan stay there the rest of his life? He wanted to leave, he couldn’t take this anymore.

He would rather drown trying to escape than stay here. Nothing was worse than staying here. Well, staying here alone was worse, but at least now he had Logan to help him through it. Logan had sat down next to him and was whispering reassurance

Virgil could still see too-large movements outside the glass. He shuddered. He had bruises from where Green had grabbed, prodded and poked at him. He was never going to get out of this if something so big that it couldn’t even touch him gently was the thing trapping him.

He felt like he was getting worse. He felt like everything was getting worse. But most of all, he felt bad for Logan, who had yet to suffer the worst of the captivity

—

Remus was worried about his humans. Tiny was less skittish than Creepy, but it still hid often. They usually stayed close to each other, something he had noticed in wild humans as well. Humans liked being near other humans.

Remus wondered why Creepy was on its own to begin with, but he could never think of a reason. He came back from his daily swim and put some cool rocks around his cave, fins shaking out in happiness, before checking on the two little guys.

He had already put food in there for them.

They were obviously hiding, since he couldn’t see them, but he didn’t know where they were hiding. There were a lot of hiding places in their enclosure, to make them more comfortable and try to simulate a more natural environment for them, but that meant the times he saw them now were few and far between. He tapped the barrier, waiting for them to come out, but they didn’t.

That was weird. He tapped again, louder and faster, but there was no movement visible. Were they ok?

“Come on, little guys, come on out” he said quietly, but nothing moved. Wait- did something just move? He grinned. The little humans were still living, at least

He noticed that they still weren’t coming out. What if something was really wrong with them, and that was why they weren’t coming to the front of the enclosure? He mentally debated what he should do, and landed on singing to draw them closer.

It only drew Tiny closer, but Creepy still was hidden. Once he stopped singing, it all but ran to where it was before. If Remus really strained his eyes, he could notice a shape behind the foliage. So that was where Creepy was? Was it ok?

He swam in circles, accidentally splashing the barrier a few times. He muttered to himself with a sort of fear- what if he had accidentally neglected his pets and one of them died? His voice was probably echoing and his marks were likely glowing brighter than usual.

Remus was talking to himself now, voice getting more echoing, and marks getting brighter. He watched Tiny move across the enclosure, towards the pile of food, and start dragging it back to where Creepy was

Remus was still muttering to himself, still echoing loudly as he watched the enclosure. It was hours later that Creepy emerged from the hiding spot. Remus stared intently, noticing the way it froze under his gaze. He watched it skitter away again.

He frowned. It was back to how skittish it used to be. It had been getting better, what happened? He placed his hand on the barrier and brought his face closer, trying to spot Creepy in the mass of plants

He didn’t know what to do about the sudden behaviour change. Maybe his singing had had a negative impact on it after all?

He swam out of the cave and towards his brother’s cave. His brother, annoying as he was, was still someone he trusted with his feelings. Sometimes.

Remus could only think of every bad possibility, every gruesome thing that could happen to his pets, but Roman was often an optimist.

He burst into the cave, accidentally waking Roman up

“Woah! Remus, what the- are you okay?” Roman’s anger seemed to dissolve as he noticed Remus’s distress

Remus explained the weird behaviour to him, and watched Roman nod along with the face he made when he was thinking

“Look, I’m not gonna claim to know anything about humans, they give me the creeps, but I really don’t think that it’s anything to worry about. It’s probably just confused why you added a new human to the enclosure”

Remus nodded. He always wondered what was going on in the humans’ minds, but he knew that he would never find out exactly what they thought. Roman was probably right. Would it help if he separated them?

He brushed that thought away; changing things now would confuse it more. He breached the surface to clear his head, only to be faced with a boat full of humans. It was one of the bigger ships, the ones bigger than his head, absolutely filled with the tiny creatures.

He grinned, gently knocking into the side, careful not to make any of them fall. One of them threw something sharp at him. He knew that that’s what humans did if they were hunting, but that made Remus laugh

Was it trying to hunt him for food? He was bigger than the whole ship! He pulled the tiny object out of his face and got closer, watching the tiny little creatures run around.

He loved observing wild humans, they were so fascinating to him. He wondered why they were so close to each other, in a big crowd as he got closer. His grin grew as he looked each human up and down. They were all so different from each other.

He scooped up a few into his hand to get a better look, and felt them moving around. He laughed softly at the feeling. One of them attempted to jump off of his hand and back onto the boat, and he attempted to catch it.

He looked at the tiny body in his hand. Oops. He didn’t mean to catch it so hard, but their tiny little bodies were so fragile.

He dropped it into the water and put the others back onto the boat. They were all making a lot of noise, strangely.

He swam away, wiping the red blood off of his hand and onto a rock. He didn’t mean to do that. He swam back to his cave and checked on his humans again.

He could see them this time, though they weren’t looking at him. Creepy stayed close to Tiny, much like the humans on the boat, and he couldn’t help but compare them to the one he accidentally killed. He looked at them consideringly

What would be the least painful way to die if you were human sized? Probably not drowning, that looked like it took a while. Maybe getting squashed, that seemed pretty instantaneous, but then he thought about how it might feel to have your organs splattered across a rock. He shook his head of those thoughts and just watched them.

Nothing was really happening. He couldn’t explain the strange foreboding feeling in his mind.

Things went back to normal after a few more days. Roman came by to visit him, though once again dramatically avoided the enclosure like his life depended on it.

Remus rolled his eyes as Roman shrieked upon seeing Tiny move across the enclosure to get food.

“It’s not going to hurt you, drama queen. It’s just trying to eat,”

“Ugh! Stop teasing me, you-” he was cut off by Remus shoving him with a grin plastered across his face

“Oh, yeah, the tiny little creature is gonna get you, you should be worried that it’s gonna get past the barrier, somehow swim towards you and, I don’t know, gently bite your hand?” He teased, mock biting Roman’s hand as he tried to shove him in return.

“Stop it, Remus! I can’t help how scared I am,” Roman pouted

“But you can help screaming my ears off every time one of them moves!” He countered, grin growing

He and Roman had a mock-argument for about half an hour, one that only got partially violent, but immediately ended when Roman had to go. Just like normal.

He dramatically swam down to the bottom of his cave and lay in the darkness for a while. How well could humans see in the dark, he wondered. Probably pretty well, since they’d been fine in the cave so far.

His eyes drifted shut as he thought and he slept

—

Logan hated this. Well, mostly. The good part was that this presented a very unique opportunity to study sirens. Usually, sirens killed anyone who interacted with them, so not much was known about them. Now Logan had the upper hand, second only to Virgil, who had been there longer

He felt bad for Virgil. Virgil had evidently gone through something during his time in the cave, perhaps even just the effects of long-term stress, but Virgil could barely stop trembling even when they were both hidden

Virgil had some interesting hypotheses about why they were being kept, and Logan had to admit that the theories held up well as Logan observed the siren.

Concerningly, Virgil mentioned a second siren when bringing up the idea of sirens being scared. Even more concerning, Virgil turned pale at the mere mention of the red siren, which did not give Logan a lot to work with in terms of what he was actually dealing with.

Virgil constantly looked like he had never slept, which was incredibly impressive considering how much time he spent asleep. Logan thought it must’ve been the effects of stress.

When the Red siren finally showed up, Logan was sharply pulled behind a bush

“I advise you to keep your ears covered and try not to move” Virgil warned him, which intrigued Logan very much.

“I’m just going to get some food, I’ll be quick” he promised, watching Virgil curl up more and press down on his ears.

Logan went to get food, looking at Red intently. It spotted him after a few seconds of movement, both sets of eyes widening before it started shrieking. Logan flinched. So that was why Virgil told him to cover his ears.

Green and Red seemed to start arguing, shoving each other and even biting once or twice.

Logan watched with strange fascination as the sirens fought, and then as the fight immediately stopped as the red siren left. Logan’s ears hurt from the scream, but his brain hurt from the strange behaviour of the giants

He went back to his and Virgil’s designated talking bush and sat down

Virgil was silent for a few moments, while Logan looked out at the dimly lit cave.

“I think they’re siblings,” Virgil offered, strangely tonelessly. Logan didn’t have to ask to know who he was talking about

Logan thought for a while. The thought made him feel oddly nauseous, the idea that his captor had a family. He hadn’t thought about the siren's personal life before.

If Red visited more often, though, he might be able to translate a few words. He was pretty sure that Red had said ‘stop’ several times during the argument, and that would be an invaluable word to know when in this situation. He was somewhat sure that Green was not keeping them out of malice, that being backed up by his and Virgil’s observations of the situation, so he hoped that once he had the words, it would let them go

He shared his thoughts with Virgil, who did agree with the idea, but was worried it might take too long to get every word they needed correct. Logan wondered whether it was worth it, but decided on yes as he looked at just how tired Virgil seemed

It took at least a month and a half (he was pretty sure, anyway; it was hard to tell in the cave) for him to learn how to speak one word. He practised every time that Green was out of the cave. He could understand more than he could speak.

He was going to keep practising, but his vocal cords were not made for their language.

Virgil had bitten the siren a few times, which did reduce the grabbing frequency. Green had never grabbed him as much as he grabbed Virgil. He assumed that it was due to Virgil’s larger stature, and him therefore being less fragile than Logan’s smaller form.

He hummed, trying the word in his mouth again as Green left the cave

Virgil hadn’t been trying to speak, deciding that trying to speak to the giant was not his ‘style’, so to speak. Logan was pretty sure that just meant he was scared, but he didn’t say anything about that hypothesis.

It was a week later that he actually put his practice to the test, as the siren reached through the ‘glass’ to try to bring Virgil out. The panicked and pleading look from his friend was enough to convince him.

He looked into the eyes of the siren as best he could, took a deep breath and spoke

“Stop,” he said in the strange language, before gesturing to the siren’s hand, still looking to grab at Virgil

“Stop,” he repeated

Green’s eyes were all on him as he stood, trying his hardest not to look scared.

It widened its eyes, and those sharp teeth were on display as it started to speak

“What?” It asked, and Logan repeated himself once again, crossing his arms.

—

Tag list: @a-chilly-pepper

#sanders sides gt #sanders sides fic #sanders sides story #sanders sides g/t #giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #sanders sides au #sanders side fic #sanders sides #remus sanders #giant Remus #merfolk #sirens #spiders

81 notes · View notes

abnormalpsychology · 1 year ago

Text

I went to my first Rocky horror screening on Friday and I literally miss it so bad!!! I lost my mind and felt so hot and it was . transcendent . so I made a list of highlights:

- MY FRIEND AND I GETTING SAT IN THE SECOND UP CLOSE FRONT ROW BC WE LOOKED SO ENTHUSIASTIC IN OUR FLOOR SHOW MAKEUP AAGHDH 😳😳

-MY FRIEND AND I GETTING TO BE BETTY AND RALPH HAPSHATT (HER SAYING YES DESPITE NOT EVEN KNOWING WHO THEY WERE LMAO) AND ME MISSING THE BOUQUET TOSS TIMING - MY ONE JOB!!!! - OUT OF SHEER BLUESCREENING FROM SEROTONIN OVERLOAD AND PANIC LMAO

- OUR VIRGIN GAME WAS LITERALLY NOT BAD AT ALL DESPITE ME HAVING BEEN SO SCARED LOL. “I went to Rocky horror and now I’m popped!!” as our repeated call to worship with a guy dressed as the pope agahshgk, they were so gentle w us fr

- THE CAST DID THIS PRE RECORDED ROCKY HORROR VERSION OF THE NICOLE KIDMAN AD AHHAJDJ

- the audience making a joke to the stage guy (who was like probably 30) abt skibidi toliet and him being like “what the FUCK are you talking about” 💀

- preparing the audience for the ride like “people are going to be yelling the worst things you’ve ever heard in your life at the screen.”

- RIGHT INTO IT WITH A STRIPTEASE AND TIDDIES COMING ALL THE WAY OUT ON SCIENCE FICTION DOUBLE FEATURE

- “fight a triffid” “WHAT THE FUCK IS A TRIFFID”

- doing the time warp with a crowd was like the most fun I’ve ever had

- I ALSO GOT TO BE THE FUCKING LEVER RIFF RAFF CRANKS FOR ROCKY TO RISE OUT OF THE TANK LMAO

- I can’t even remember all the crowd chants but so many absolutely DESTROYED me w laughter

- “LIKE UR NECK BITCH”

- “you say goodbye / and I say” “hello 😒”

- “hey Janet are you a slut?” “yes ☺️ I am”

- IT WAS WEIRDLY LIKE CHURCH BC EVERYONE KNEW HOW ALL THIS SHIT WORKED AND HAD THEIR LINES MEMORIZED AND WE DIDNT BUT THEY LITERALLY HAD SIGNS AND SO MUCH KIND NICE INSTRUCTION FOR NEW PPL AND LIKE. I LOVE THEM

- THE LINES I KNEW I WAS SO GODDAMN HAPPY TO KNOW AND I EVEN YELLED OUT MY OWN ONES I CAME UP WITH AND THESE OLDER LADIES BEHIND US KNEW ALL THESE ORIGINAL ONES TOO

- “keep calm / don’t panic” or something like that and everyone just screamed in unison 😭 multiple times lol

- FORGOT TO GET US A PROP BAG BC WE GOT TO BE VIPS WHICH KILLED ME BUT IM GOING BACK ANYWAYS SOOOO 🤪🤪

- everyone had so many funny chants that kept surprising me but I was just singing along bc the songs already are just sOOOOO INCREDIBLY FUN anyways

- the improvisations by the cast were so consistently v funny, I loved them . and like everyone was trans!!! so many binders!!! it was incredible

- “-visitors, let alone offer them hospitality “HORSE BRUTALITY?” WAS SAID SOOO LOUD LMAO

- “it’s a Bird it’s a plane it’s SUPER ASSHOLE”

- THE WEAKLING WEIGHING 98 LBS CALLBACK LINE WAS EVERYONE JUST BEING MEAN TO BRAD AND IT WAS SOOO FUNNY LMAO

- EVERYONE THROWING UP TOLIET PAPER AND PARTY POPPERS AND CARDS IN THE AIR WAS SO BEAUTIFUL TO WATCH ACTUALLY <3

- THE BEDROOM SCENE OUR FRANK WAS LIKE “yep it’s totally me . Brad majors 😐 That’s me” not even TRYING and I fucking died lmao

- OH MY GOD. THE BEDROOM SCENES IN SILHOUETTE WHERE THEY HAD THEM PULL DIFF INSANE PROPS OUT OF BRAD AND JANETS ASSHOLES 💀💀💀💀 I WAS LIKE “THATS NOT HOT????”

- the Eddie chanting (“not the ass but the side!”) was SO FUN I WAS SO HAPPY I STUDIED FOR HOURS READING THE PARTICIPATION SCRIPTS LMAO

- Eddie live where they did the hand jive and I couldn’t do it fast enough and Rocky was wtaching me and said “IM LOOKING AT YOU”

- THE REVEAL OF EDDIE’S BODY WHERE THEY COULDNT HAVE HIM LYING UNDERNEATH THE TABLE SO THEY JUST HAD HIS ACTOR RUN OUT AND BE DEAD AS FAST AS POSSIBLE FHSAHSHHAHAHA

- them like “haha Dr Scott! we are eating ur nephew” 💀 #prankd

- I got to throw in my own little lines with like “You’re going to kill him? What’s his crime?”“WHATS NOT?” And I FELT SO FUNNY FOR IT

- riff saying “my most beautiful sister” and my friend (WHO HADNT FINISHED THE MOVIE) turning to me slowly like .. 😟?

- EVEN IN “IM GOING HOME” THEY STILL HAD CHANTS MAKING FUN OF IT FHAJQHS

- THEY DID SUPER HEROES AND I WENT “THANK YOU JESUS” ALOUD HFJSJW

- they had audience members also be the table Frank rides in the scene and the sonic oscillator which was so great!!! my FAVORITE of which was the cutie playing the globe at the end who got so dizzy she had to stop 😭❤️

- anyways it went crazy. pls go to Rocky horror if you get a chance asap!!!! go to events! be gay! it will change ur life

- <3 u rockyhorror :)

#bbge.text #rocky horror picture show #rocky horror #rhps #sharing joy

27 notes · View notes

jack-of-crowns · 1 month ago

Text

@flashfictionfridayofficial

'The Deep Moans Round With Many Voices' by @jack-of-crowns

Ulysse closes his mind to the frothy cacophony on the command deck and dives deep within himself to yon jou ete, sliding beneath cerulean waves down the wrought iron chains of the 'Aurore' anchored above him. He is back home on Antilles Prime; he and granpapa have rowed out on this fine summer's morning to the corvette, and all is bon bagay.

The memories rise slowly, a school of goliath grouper drifting upwards from flooded mangroves. "Regardde, mon petit," granpapa says, "An anchor is more than metal and chain. It is a konvésasyon between the vessel above and the seas beneath." Ulysse remembers the hot gleam of young double suns on water, the flukes of the anchor biting into the sea floor in a cloud of silt, the snap of that moment of taut stillness amid constant motion.

Claudine, his navigation officer, stares unseeingly , streams of quantum data weeping from her torn mind. She had plotted the deep space courses of the 'Luminaire', tracking anomalies out on the spinward rim. "Capitaine Vincennes," soft and low. Ulysse should have warned them, should have warned them all, that space is never truly empty. An inexperienced crew he had taken out for training.

Their voices are all about him now, neither language nor sound but pure information. Entangled memories, celebration and mourning, futures forgotten, and possible pasts, all fragmented quanta adrift in the endless seas of spacetime. Martin, the xenolinguist, mutters to himself in a language between form and thought, fingers twitching in impossible geometries. The Deep is speaking now, and it is destroying his crew.

He holds fast to firsts; most of the 'Luminaire' are having their first interstellar jump. Their minds are receptive to the spells of the chronothurge at the helm, the calming chants that the automaton mage embeds within the neurocortex prior to psion expansion. He remembers his first love, Felix. Remembers what it felt like to be held as the dark energy roared all about you, a chaotic information storm comingled with one's own consciousness, and there was his partner, familiar presence in the strange, the taste of warm cassava bread in a kiss.

"An anchor holds. An anchor connects." Ulysse is the captain of this ship now, and he must be the anchor. He must anchor the psyches of his crew, soti nan lanmou li, and hold them fast. And so he does; because he himself was held fast in the Deep that first jump out of love, so he holds all the lost voices of his crew together in his psion-expanded consciousness in the depths of that timeless space. They are all together on a fine summer's morning in the depths of interstellar night, and all is bon bagay.

#flash fiction #planetary romance #out of love #sword and planet #writeblr #writers of tumblr

4 notes · View notes

lesvegas · 9 months ago

Note

Hii you do not have to respond to this if you don't want to, but do you have a good way of explaining how to play caravan? I have looked it up but still do not get it lol.. okay thank you!!

I've tried writing a big guide before but honestly the simplest way is this:

You're playing blackjack (if you don't know how to play blackjack, learn that first. if you can wrap your head around blackjack, caravan will be much simpler) with yourself 3 times. Each 'caravan' is just a different hand. But instead of the goal being to reach 21 without going over, you wanna reach 26 without going over (technically, anywhere between 21-26 is a winning hand). The simplest way to do this is with a deck of;

10s, 6s, Kings (put a King on a 10 to double the value to 20) (20+6=26)

7s, 8s, 9s (7+8+9=24)

These are the only cards you really need; numbers that easily add up to a number between 21 and 26, Kings to easily double the value of a card, and Jacks (all a Jack does is remove the card you put it on. So if your hand goes over 26, you could put a Jack on one of your cards to bring the hand back down instead of discarding the lot).

Your opponent is also trying to get 3 blackjacks caravans. You can mess with them using Kings (to make their hand go over 26) and Jacks (to discard their cards), but they can also mess with you. You win when you get 3 caravans first. There's no real rules to deck building, so stack your deck with the cards I've mentioned and you should be fine against most NPCs.

A few other notes:

I think one of the harder things to grasp besides the poorly-written rules is the controls of the game itself. It's a lot clunkier than other in-game gambling games. Take your time getting the feel of it, and make sure you learn the difference between putting a card ON another card (like a King on a 10) and simply placing the next card in the hand (like a 10 on a 6).

The deck-building is also super clunky but take your time with this, too. A good deck is the only way to win. Cards face-up on the TOP row are in your deck, cards face-up on the BOTTOM row are NOT in your deck.

You can only stack cards in numerical order one way or the other. So if you place a 7 down, then an 8 on top of it, the next card has to be higher than an 8. Or if it was the other way around, the next card would have to be lower than a 7. This can be circumvented by having many cards of the same suit; same suits can go higher or lower. (Queens can also be used to reverse the order? I think? But I've never used them because who cares I'm trying to win as fast as possible)

In the first few turns, you can discard unnecessary cards from your hand (not hands, your main hand with cards yet unplayed) without wasting a turn. I wouldn't recommend discarding later unless you really have a dogshit hand.

Lacey at the Mojave Outpost is one of the easiest NPCs to play and practice against. Ambassador Crocker and No-Bark Noonan are the hardest but hold 2000 caps. I'd say most merchants who play have reasonable difficulty *and* if you buy a bunch of stuff you can win your caps back if you're good. Keith (in Aerotech Suite 200) only bets 0 (literally none) caps if you want a really low-stakes game. Johnson Nash is a fucking BITCH because he uses a ton of face cards against you.

If you play modded fnv on pc, some recommendations:

Easy Caravan - Alters No-Bark Noonan’s deck to be impossible to lose against.

Caravan Overhaul Compilation - Features Better Caravan Limit, More Caravan Players and other smaller Caravan mods.

The Caravan Tournament - A quest mod featuring a Caravan card game tournament.

Legate Caravan Showdown - Allows you to duel Legate Lanius in a game of Caravan rather than combat.

Hope this helps <3

#fnv #caravan

10 notes · View notes

adonaldson · 6 months ago

Text

ooc: so i am working on art's verse for aus aka no marriage to tashi and no dating her... and like the movie i am going to be vague about dates and shit because i have no desire to try and pin art down to a time period. just know his canon time period coincides with nadal and federer etc. aka he was playing against them. but art in canon is also the federer replacement. though i tend to play it fast and loose with dates anyways

ANYWAYS

his au timeline has no dates for a reason. but notable things about him. he has been at the junior us open at least twice (and the junior olympics), coming in second in singles at 18, and then first in doubles at 18. he won the ncaa title in tennis two years in a row as a junior and senior. all the while also doing enough competitions to get him noted in the rankings for ATP. By the time he graduates colllege he has competed at the open twice because of his wild card status as a NCAA title holder. his senior year he got to the semis.

when he graduates college he is in the low 100s rankings wise, and quickly rises beyond that. His second year after college he wins the Australian Open. He is then pretty solidly high in the rankings and the big name in American men's tennis. He competes in all the other big touraments.

Two years after college he competes in the Olympics and gets bronze in men's singles. He gets silver in doubles, and he gets gold in mixed doubles. After the Olympics he is solidly in the upper 50s for the rankings. This is about when he approaches Tashi to coach him.

The next four years earns him his second Aussie open win, his first French open win. And multiple times burning out in the finals or semis of the others. He burns out in the semis consistently for the US open. After his second Australian win Tashi becomes his head coach.

He goes back to the Olympics playing in the same events getting silver in men's singles, gold in doubles, and gold in co-ed doubles.

The next four years sees him getting his second french open win, and his first Wimbledon title. Now only alluding him is the US Open, that career slam, and the gold at the olympics. His third Olympics sees him getting a silver, gold, and gold again.

He gets his second wimbledon title immediately after the Olympics now just being alluded by that US open win, and the Olympics gold. He gets his career Grand Slam the year before the Olympics, and goes on to win the other three tournaments in succession (it is literally the peak of his career) by the time the next olympics roles around he finally gets his singles gold (and two others). And then after the Olympics gets a second US open win, and also getting him wins in all the major tournaments in a year a feat not accomplished by many others. He is in the top rankings and the year of the Olympics he stays solidly at number 1.

Art still plays a few years afterwords, winning a few more slams, and when he retires he is one of the most successful US men's tennis players in history. He ends his careers with 2 career slams (a win in the 4 major tournaments he does this twice), one golden slam (4 major tournaments and an olympics), the last of which is a grand slam (all 4 in one calandar year), ironically his golden grand slam doubes as his grand slam cause he wins the olympics that year as well. He also likely has a career super slam (4 major tournaments, olympics, and the atp finals), which doubles as his super slam which is the year he wins the olympcs.

most verses will be happening either in college, or either before or after his first olympics. So he will have been to the us open twice, been to plenty of tournaments and slams a win at the Australian open possibly two wins.

Also should be noted depending on the verse, he may also compete in doubles which would have him going for a boxed set which is titles in all the disciplines at the 4 major tournaments.

I know i have Art being super successful and decorated but it is not out of the realm of possibility for him and it spans at least 16 years of his life post college.

#ooc: out of challengers #three: verse info #this is messy but here you go

4 notes · View notes

wafflebloggies · 1 year ago

Text

the long con - part 1/7

a Don't Feed The Muse crossover story. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

The con was coming to an end.

DIGIVID, the largest annual convention for digital content creators in the Southern United States. Three days of booths, networking, merch, watchathons, speeches, special previews, presentations, weird food, crowded spaces, fun.

Fun in theory, anyway. For Mark Mayhew, it had been three days of a brand new kind of purgatory. Unavoidable, self-inflicted, endless.

“...honestly, we couldn’t choose, so like for our first video we just put all our favourite movies into a picker thing and it turns out Watchmen came out the exact same year as Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, and I know, they’re totally different movies, but then we were like, wait, there’s some parallels here...”

Mark was certain by now that the con had been a terrible idea. True, if he’d had the time all over again, there were several big, pressing reasons why he would still have made the same choice, but only a couple of them were fit to explain to anybody else. Even if he’d known how frankly- miserable- it was going to turn out to be, he probably still would have chosen to go, but knowing this didn’t make it feel like any less of a mistake, or change the fact that he would have given almost anything, right now, to not be stuck in the middle of it.

“...and the whole ship metaphor they cut from the movie, and like, Flint’s invention basically has the same thematic purpose as Veidt’s EDBE? We kept saying ‘eeby-deeby,’ it took us like, twenty takes…”

It was almost incredible to him, as he stood in silence, how alone it was possible to feel in such a big crowd. The main convention hall was hot, airless, busy. Even though some people were already packing up, here at the end of the third day, plenty of bodies still shuttled back and forth in clogged little streams whenever they found the space to move, elbow to elbow between the double rows of human backs shutting out the tables, the crowded booths. It was easy to feel overwhelmed by the sheer press of people, the talk and the noise. If Mark had only walked in alone, twenty minutes ago, and spent the time silently trying to make his way from one side of the massive space to the other, he would already have been more than a little agitated, ready to leave.

“...and he has all these shell companies, like all these theatres that play alien invasion movies all the time, to subconsciously prepare people? And when you look at Meatballs, you’re actually getting lowkey bombarded with fast-food imagery the whole time right up to when he turns on the machine...”

Mark had been in the hall for hours, and he was done. Currently, he was standing in a small pocket of space in a very nicely put-together booth belonging to a fairly well-known ASMR channel, watching a conversation happen right in front of him that he had about as much share in as an exiled Martian had in a conversation backstage at NASA. Yes, he’d started this conversation, he’d introduced himself, he’d started to steer the topic in a useful direction… and then Anthony had happened. Anthony Williams had turned up with his big, friendly grin and his busted paper carrier bag full of leaflets and merch which had been shedding everywhere since Friday and his completely distracting, distracted self, and now…

“...actually the biggest audio problem we have is my cat, Blaze, when we film at my house she’s got a real thing for the fluffy boom whatever on the mic, she wants to kill that thing on sight, right Mark?”

“Yeah,” said Mark, in the same way a corpse will twitch if you electrocute it. Anthony, who was too into the conversation to notice his friend’s thousand-yard-stare, carried right on going.

“Yeah, so we have to shut her in my parents’ room, but then I feel so bad, and she yells so loud in there it picks up on the video! So we usually record at Mark’s, but with our Parasite video...”

And so on. And on.

Not that the ASMR guys seemed to mind. People always seemed to open up and respond to Anthony quicker and with far more warmth than they did with Mark alone, which added another layer of frustration to the silent, invisible war he was fighting against himself. If Anthony could only have understood, and been focused, if Anthony could have been trying like he had been, these last three days, they might have found a sponsor already.

A sponsor, a partner, a collab, anything, anything to make the whole weekend feel worthwhile, instead of a painful waste of time.

Mark could tell that these guys had lost focus completely. One of them was still chatting quite happily with Anthony about God alone knew what, relaxed and disengaged, and the other was already moving away, eyes on a new bunch of visitors. There was no way Mark could steer this back the right way again now. Even though, at the bottom of his heart, he’d known it was a lost cause before Anthony had joined them, the tide of bitterness ebbed higher as he listened to the conversation wander so far wide of the point.

He must have looked distant enough for a party of people trying to use the booth as a short-cut to mistake him for an unconnected bystander, because as he stood there they pushed gently between him and Anthony, widening the gap as they passed through. On impulse, he went with it, let them nudge him and his whole parcel of garbage feelings to the side, let the general stream of the crowd push him out of the booth.

Without waiting to see if Anthony had noticed, he started shoving his way towards the main exit at a quicker pace. It was a relief to just move, without Anthony winding along just behind him, getting distracted at an average rate of once every four booths. Through the whole weekend, every time Mark was just trying to get from A to B, every time Anthony spotted something which made him want to stop and take a closer look, he would reach forwards and pat Mark on the back of his right shoulder. By this point, three days in, the feeling was starting to evoke a kind of Pavlovian response in Mark, knowing that every time he felt that light touch he would have to stop and stand and wait, getting hotter and more squashed and more impatient by the second, until Anthony was done, and by now just the feeling of Anthony’s hand on his shoulder had become a button that hiked his blood pressure, his heart, his temper.

By all appearances, Anthony had enjoyed the weekend a great deal. He got on with everyone he met, he was absolutely down for talking with new people on a vast range of subjects (with absolutely no practical application towards growing the channel whatsoever) and with his usual unbounded enthusiasm he seemed happy to keep going for as long as the con lasted.

Which wouldn’t be for that much longer. The hall was crowded now, sure, but already not as bad as it had been on the previous two days. Mark could see stalls and tables beginning to clear as their owners began to pack away. Pressing towards the main door, he had a sharp and ghastly vision of the convention hall as a vast interconnected series of nodes, bright and promising, each shutting down and turning black and dead as he touched them, came into contact, even approached them at all. Each booth, each prospect, each point of hope-

(nobody is going to want to work with you.)

He couldn’t feel normal, he couldn’t relax for a second, when on the one side the enormous thundercloud of dread loomed and on the other… something nobody here could understand, something he barely understood, something that lurked at the bottom of his stomach like a squishy leaden bowling-ball, the part of him that whispered that he really was just torturing himself for no reason, because what he had been granted out of the blue was, could be, his miracle. That it had been pointless coming here at all, that he was wasting time, wasting precious time not just ditching any other blighted and unreliable possibility and reaching for it with grateful hands-

“Mark!”

Unaware up until that moment that he’d stopped dead in the heaving crowd, Mark started and looked back as Anthony shouldered through the general stream of people, a small, willowy splotch of red flannel and concern. He felt Anthony’s hand on his shoulder again, guiding, steering him forwards and sharply left into a faster-moving stream of people that quickly swallowed them both and spat them out on the other side of the main doors. He wasn’t even aware of how much he’d just wanted the fresher air outside the hall until they were out in the gigantic hub of a lobby, the atmosphere so much lighter and cooler just from the fewer bodies and the bigger space, the vaulted metal-and-glass ceiling lined with great sheets of striped tarpaulins like a vast circus tent, shaded against the fading July sun.

He gulped several big breaths, realised his eyes were watering from the heat in them, the blur of colours and the crazy nimbus around each far-distant light, and angrily dragged his glasses from his face, looking down to clean them on his T-shirt as Anthony arrived by his side.

“Hey, you just dis- are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Mark, putting on his usual wry, flat, deadpan tone with difficulty, like a familiar sweater that suddenly felt too small. “You sure you’re done? You didn’t have any more hilarious cat stories to tell them? ‘Cause you all seemed to be getting on great.”

“Uh… yeah? They seemed like cool guys.�� Anthony never usually minded Mark’s sarcasm, but finding the sharp end of it directed so pointedly towards himself clearly threw him. He shrugged, uncomfortably.

Good, thought Mark. Be uncomfortable. The thought wormed sharp and slimy through the back of his head, and it left him feeling ashamed. He didn’t want Anthony to be miserable just because he was, as if making Anthony feel awkward or hurt could make him feel any better about himself. He wasn’t that shitty a friend.

At least, he didn’t want to be.

Anthony looked down, shuffling through his bulging paper bag full of garbage, the thing he’d been stuffing every sheet, pamphlet, sticker and card he’d collected the whole weekend into as if it was as big as a lending library. He pulled out a couple of stickers from the top. “Here, they gave us a couple of these.”

Mark took the stickers. They were the window-clinger kind, for cars. He didn’t want to put any stickers on his car. They would be a pain in the ass to peel off, if-

(when)

-he had to sell it.

“Thanks, Anthony. Using my car to advertise someone else’s YouTube channel instead of our own, that’s a really proactive move there. Real four-D chess strats.”

“I, um… I just thought they’d look neat.”

“Yeah,” sighed Mark. “I know. Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit.”

Even though it was getting towards evening, there weren’t too many people in the food court seating area, and half of the kiosks still had their metal hatches pulled down. At a long, near-empty table, sticky and spotted from a day of crumbs and wipe-downs, Mark dropped into a chair across from Anthony, always easy to spot in his bright red-check flannel, who was already halfway down a container of loaded chilli wedges.

He shrugged his backpack into the darkness under his feet and back-kicked it under his chair, and set his styrofoam carton on the table. Following the trend of the whole weekend, he hadn’t had as much luck with the food options as Anthony, whose potato wedges looked pretty good, apart from the whole ‘drenched in meat’ thing. His vegetarian lasagna looked like a slab of undercooked doormat in half an inch of thin red soup.

There were no real quiet places anywhere in the hall, but the food court was at least a little quieter, only a couple of other people at this table, eating alone. Mark tried to let himself relax, as much as he could, forcing himself to untense joint by joint as if his skeleton was an IKEA diagram strictly controlled by his mind, but only got about as far as his elbows before giving up.

Anthony grinned at him. Mark attempted to smile back, didn’t point out that he had a speck of chilli cheese on the tip of his nose, and ate a couple of bites of lasagna. The best that could be said about it was that it held no surprises- it tasted exactly how it looked. His phone buzzed, and he checked it hurriedly, trying to look preoccupied enough to dodge any conversation, to at least catch ten minutes worth of peace and silence while they ate.

He got maybe two minutes, because by then Anthony had wolfed down enough chilli to have taken the edge off his appetite, and wanted to talk.

“What happened back there, anyway? I just looked round and you were gone.”

Mark shrugged. “They weren’t going to give us anything,” he said. “Before you came over, I managed to give them our card, but really, I could just kind of tell they weren’t going to bite, so, like…”

With some trouble, he could make himself see that what had just happened wasn’t Anthony’s fault. He had known those guys weren’t interested, just like all the others. He’d known it in his gut before Anthony had even shown up, and with just a little distance he could see that clearly and admit it, and know that it wasn’t fair for him to put the blame on Anthony at all-

“Wait, that’s why you were talking to them?”

-for almost five seconds.

“Yes,” said Mark, trying to keep his voice, down, for all that it mattered. “Yes, Anthony, that is why I was trying to talk to them, before you-”

“But they’re nothing to do with our channel!” Anthony looked genuinely confused. “They do 3D print projects, they do that ASMR printing thing-”

“I know, what they do, Anthony,” said Mark, barbing every comma as if it was a physical thing, something pointy he could flick against Anthony’s forehead. “It doesn’t matter, they get two hundred K views per video, we could do something-”

“Come on, Mark,” Anthony drooped back in his chair, rubbing his face, obliterating the chilli cheese with his palm and pushing his curly mop of hair out of the way. His legs slid forwards on the tiles and his heels bumped into Mark’s toes. Mark pulled back and tucked his legs under his chair like a curling bug, hooking both feet tightly around its front legs. “You’ve been doing this the whole weekend, the mobile game people, the wallet people, the deodorant people, the freaking- weird pillow things people-”

“You think we can just wait for someone to come to us? That’s not how it works-”

“This isn’t how it works, Mark,” said Anthony. Now he leaned forwards, pushing his chilli to the side, all earnestness, his freckly face an open book urging Mark to hear him. “I’m just being realistic. We’re a really small channel, we don’t need sponsorships, it’s okay if none of these guys want to work with us yet. Maybe if we get bigger it’ll happen, fine, but you can’t force it, you’re just making-”

“When are we going to get bigger, Anthony? When? How long? When is our first sponsor going to come along and ask us? Another six months?”

“Maybe-”

“A year? Two years? I don’t have-”

“Maybe not at all!”

“-I don’t have that kind of time!”

Mark had almost yelled over his friend, but he’d heard him perfectly well. Although he knew exactly what Anthony meant, although it was only echoing his own thoughts, the words still stopped him dead.

“Maybe never,” said Anthony, quieter. “Look, you know I love our stuff, I love the channel, I’d love it if it got as big as those ASMR guys one day, are you kidding? But I’d be fine if we never got any more subscribers than we already have, I’d do it if we got like three views a video. It’s just supposed to be for fun, Mark! Remember the first time we uploaded and we got like, twenty views? We got pizza to celebrate!”

“That’s… that was different.” Mark did remember, and the memory made his throat tighten and his eyes prickle. It didn’t feel like a long time ago. The summer they started the channel, leapt into making videos as soon as term ended. That summer, back when his dad was only normal-crazy, back when Theo’s acceptance letter was stuck right on the front of the fridge all month, back when the thing that sucked the most in the world was the prospect of having to miss the second half of summer for some stupid family cruise.

That summer. Before everything went to shit.

Anthony pushed a finger against the smeary tabletop, drawing a big invisible circle, tapping a small dot next to it. “We have to think of it like, there’s hundreds and thousands of people here who have a channel, and you know it’s only a tiny, tiny percent of a percent that ever get big enough to get sponsorships and stuff. You know that. We were never doing this for sponsorships. I mean, I’m not, and- we’re on the same page, right? This is like when you wanted to do that video reading negative comments-”

“Okay, that? That stuff works. People love hate-comment videos. We’d easily get twice as many views as our last video, and we wouldn’t even have to write a script-”

“We don’t even get hate-comments- we’ve had like, one! Even if we did get a bunch for some reason, why would we even want to focus on that shit?” That’s just going to make it seem like we don’t care about the people leaving us good comments, and then we’d just look like assholes!”

“We don’t have to wait for real ones.I could make some fake accounts, or- or something. Who cares what we look like-”

“I do,” said Anthony. “And so do you, Mark.”

He sat back, as if he’d made a really good point, and gave Mark his best knowing look, which made him look about as sly and full of deep psychological understanding as a first-grader’s spelling primer.

“I know you, and I know the channel means way too much to you, for you to really want to screw it up like that just for a bunch of views.”

(It’s not about what I WANT!!)

In the real world, where screaming at the top of one’s lungs is unacceptable mealtime behaviour, Mark swallowed and looked down at his lasagna.

“It’s not like that’s why we’re here,” said Anthony. “This was just supposed to be fun. I mean… it was supposed to be.”

His tone of voice made Mark look up, quickly. Anthony was still watching him, and he looked worried. Not just worried, but uncertain, sympathetic. Mark felt his stomach lurch. He knew that look, because he’d found himself on the receiving end of it a lot lately, from a lot of different people, all for mostly the same reason. He hated it. He hated the pity, the pointlessness of it, the unwanted obligation of knowing someone felt bad for him when he never asked them to, wouldn’t ask them to, because they couldn’t do a single thing to help. Seeing it in Anthony’s guileless hazel eyes was worse than seeing it in the face of a stranger, because-

(he could help he just doesn’t want to)

-it cut deeper, somehow. Mark shut his eyes hard for a second. Hard white light, clean surfaces, the pervasive smell of disinfectants and sickness and waiting, and the voice, thin and drowsy and blurry with sleep and painkillers, but the same, the same well-loved voice-

(It sounds great, honey. You two go have a good time. You’ll have fun.)

“Sure,” said Mark, to his lasagna. “Fun.”

There was a short silence. Anthony clearly wanted to say more, probably to the same purpose, but he knew Mark well enough to recognize when he was being shut down. He shifted uncertainly in his seat, picking at a bit of cracked decal on the front of his t-shirt. Mark picked up his spork again.

“You know,” he said, casually, drawing small deliberate lines across the top layer of his gross lasagna, just like someone might do when they were absolutely unbothered and totally not trying to force the issue, absolutely not so wound up to the point that their usual sharp, smooth-running voice was fracturing into bits and pieces of sentences like grammatical shrapnel, “if you ever felt like- you were kind of done with this whole thing, with the- the channel, I’d completely understand. It’s been a... stressful weekend, right? It hasn’t really worked out like we wanted it to, and I can tell you’re not really into it, I... I wouldn’t be mad.”

He coughed, poking holes in the lasagna like he was trying to seed a miniature lawn. He hadn’t even eaten three bites, but it felt like it was stuck in a big ball in his throat.

“If- if you were feeling like, ‘You know what, I’m over this stupid YouTube thing, but I don’t want to disappoint Mark!’ I’d get it. Really, you wouldn’t be disappointing me, or- letting anybody down, I’d be- I’d be fine with just- running it on my own.”

He looked up, barely daring to hope. “If that’s how you were feeling... you could hundred-percent just tell me.”

Anthony leaned across the table, putting a hand on Mark’s arm, stopping the nervous movement of the spork mid-jab. His face was encouraging, wholly sincere.

“Mark,” he said, with serious emphasis, “I love our channel. I’m never going to be ‘done.’ I’ve got you, buddy. You don’t have to worry about me- I am never gonna just leave you to do it on your own. Okay?”

Mark looked at him, helplessly. Anthony smiled, his beautiful Anthony smile, nothing but sunshine and freckles, a smudge of chilli cheese and a total absence of doubt. He squeezed Mark’s arm, gently.

“We’ve had a long day,” he said. “I’m gonna go back to the room, get some packing done. Take your time, okay?”

And with that, and another quick, reassuring grin, he grabbed his raggedy paper bag and the rest of his chilli, and was gone.

Mark sat there for a little while as if he’d been hit with something heavy around the back of the head, looking at the place where Anthony had been. After a moment or two, he screwed his eyes very tightly shut, jabbed his spork into his lasagna so it stuck there like an upright little sail, put his face down in his hands and made a noise like a high, muffled nearly-silent scream.

#dftm #don't feed the muse #muse arg #alex bale #mark mayhew #anthony williams #my writing #happy christmas eve c:

15 notes · View notes

lunawings · 11 months ago

Text

Animaniacs in Concert, 2/17/24 in Bristol, CT

Or, the story of how I ran into Rob Paulsen and immediately threw up.

Not on him, thankfully.

Where to begin? From the beginning, I guess.

I talk a lot about Japanese voice actors on this blog and I have almost no thoughts about American anime dub voice actors (no offense, I just don't know their work). However, if you asked me my favorite American cartoon voice actor, it's Rob Paulsen. I knew his voice before I even knew he existed, and if you ask me, he's one of the most recognizable male voice actors in Saturday morning cartoons.

He's probably most known as being Yakko on Animaniacs, and "half the Ninja Turtles" as he puts it. ("Maybe if I live to 102 I can voice all of them!") I also personally really liked him in The Mask cartoon, I think it's some of his best work. (Even though he was doing Jim Carey, he kind of wasn't at the same time. He made it his own.) But even beyond his leading roles, he just seems to pop up all sorts of places, and it always makes my day when I recognize him as additional voices.

While Japanese voice actors are often young and excessively beautiful people you're supposed to swoon over, 80s/90s American cartoon voice actors aren't... quite... the same. And yet. I sorta do, in a weird way. I mean I've known Rob Paulsen's voice for as long as my brain has been making memories and that's a pretty huge impact on a person. A few years back, I stumbled upon a few videos of him on YouTube attending cons performing Yakko's World and such, and I just loved his personality and energy so much. So, I added seeing him perform someday to my mental list of goals to accomplish if I ever returned to the US.

Fast forward again to the 2020s, the Animaniacs revival comes out on Hulu (I don't care what anyone says I freakin loved it) and I hear he's touring again with Animaniacs in Concert. I looked up the dates and none of them were remotely near me. As I checked back one day, mourning the possible missed opportunity and debating how far I might go, a new show popped up in Bristol, CT. How random, I thought. I checked if it was doable for me, and it was! It wasn't feasible as a day trip, but still doable. And once I saw there was one FRONT ROW SEAT LEFT, the deal was sealed as I quickly bought the ticket and reserved a room at the only hotel I could find in the area, the Bristol Double Tree.

Fast forward to yesterday. I arrived in Bristol just after noon following an uber and FOUR different buses. I'd woken up way too early, I was hungry and tired, and not feeling too great. I decided food would be my first plan of action, and since I didn't quite understand how to order room service (the menu wasn't loading on my phone anyway) and there wasn't anything within walking distance, I decided to just head downstairs and eat at the hotel restaurant/bar.

As I was waiting for my impossible burger and fries, I decided to take off the Yakko's World hoodie I'd been wearing.

I bought it specifically to wear to the show, and I'd already spilled a little coffee on it this morning and didn't want to risk having to wash it again. So I tucked it behind me in the booth.

Shortly after that, another group walked in and sat at the table next to me. An older guy and some ladies. I wasn't paying much attention to them as I thought they were maybe a part of the wedding party I heard was at the hotel. My food came and I focused on that.

But then someone else walked in and joined them. Someone I very much DID recognize. "Oh there you are!" "Hi, I'm Rob!"

The next moment is kind of a blur so I'm not exactly sure whether I jumped a little or if I did the dramatic eyes widen slow turn, but I definitely had some kind of a visible reaction as I looked over to the table. It was then that I locked eyes with who at that moment I first realized was Maurice Lamarche, voice of Brain (from Pinky and the Brain) and many MANY Futurama characters (more than I realized as I learned later). He was the older man I mentioned earlier, and had been sitting there the entire time. And at that moment I thought perhaps he knew everything. (Both the fact that I recognized the new person who had just walked in, and the fact that I hadn't recognized Maurice himself until now.)

So I'm pretty sure I have at least mild prosopagnosia (face blindness) so it is hard for me to recognize people right away.

But there was something I could never fail to recognize, and that was the voice of Rob Paulsen, who was the person who had just walked into the room and joined the table with Maurice.

I'm not sure how they knew the women they were dining with, but they were all catching up, asking them if they were going to the show, etc. I listened a bit as Rob happily talked to them about the impact of the show and its fans. Such as how devoted fans would actually fly in to see them and how the average age of the audience was about 40 (hah ha... not yet but I'm getting there). He even mentioned Tress MacNeille at one point! Maurice was right in my view, but Rob was at an angle where I couldn't see him without turning my head but oh lord it was definitely him.

I had no idea what to do at this point. Do I say something? Do I not? Would it be terrible to just say hi and that I'm looking forward to the show??

I've been to a lot of events with voice actors in the past, especially in Japan, but I still just... cannot handle meeting famous people that I admire. Actually seeing them up close is intense enough, but actually TALKING to them? I don't know how anyone can do it.

I'm reminded of Amari in Idol Land PriPara, that episode where she meets Hibiki...

Yeah, basically me. For the people who visualize in their head while they are reading something, just replace whatever you imagine I look like with Amari and this story will fit very well.

All while this is all racing through my mind, I'm still shoveling french fries into my mouth while trying (and probably failing) to stay calm and act normal (even though I'm pretty sure Maurice is onto me) and I soon realize I've got a couple fries stuck in my throat (as often happens when I'm eating without paying attention, as I'm a very fast eater). I exaggerated a little in my previous post when I said I was choking, but it was hard to swallow and I realized I'd have to sneak off to the bathroom to deal with it without causing any more of a scene. I basically threw my credit card on the table and ran, though (which was dumb in hindsight, but I didn't want anyone to think I was dine-dashing).

In the end, after I came back, I decided to just quietly pay the bill and leave without saying anything, scrunching and hiding my Yakko hoodie the best I could. I didn't want to interrupt them during their private time, and for that reason I didn't try to take any photos or videos either. So I have no proof that this happened but it very much did.

And it made sense, I realized later. I already knew that the Double Tree in Bristol was literally the only hotel in the area, where else would they be!!?

After leaving the table I was so worked up I basically walked straight out of the hotel because I didn't know what else to do and headed to the Carosel Museum of New England where I killed at least two whole hours sitting on a bench looking at intricately carved 100+ year old wooden animals while nursing my exhaustion and caffeine cravings. (The museum isn't that big, I just literally did not know what else to do with myself.)

But I learned that most carousel horses are only decorated on the side that faces the customers. And since they were all hand-carved back then, the opposite side would often be carved by a less experienced carver in training or something. ISN'T THAT NEAT?

I thought that was neat.

Anyway.

Eventually I downed an energy drink I bought from a convenience store as I went on my way to the venue of the show.

I was still super early since I ran out of the hotel super early but there was already a crowd gathered outside. At first I didn't know this was the reason people had gathered, but the first 40 people to line up were eligible to sign up for a "meet-and-greet" with everyone after the show. And when I reached the front of the line, it was still open.

"Sure?" I said, not really fully understanding what I was signing up for. And so I headed inside.

The show opened with Yakko's Universe (SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SONG) and of course closed with Yakko's World as the finale. What came in between was quite random. Despite not being an actual cast member, the real star of the show was composer Randy Rogel. Rob of course voiced Yakko and his other characters, and Randy voiced... almost everyone else haha. Just using his own voice most of the time, but still. He sang as Dot a lot.

And it seemed like he picked the songs they played not necessarily by what songs were popular, but by what songs he and Rob had stories to talk about. For example, they did a bunch of songs from the failed show Histeria when Rob literally broke into tears (he was acting) while talking about how Randy had to actually, physically, go to a library to research the topics he was writing about back in those days. Randy also played an alternate version of the song LA DOT that had sat untouched in a folder for decades.

Rob's voice doesn't sound quite the same as it used to, as anyone who has seen the 2020 Animaniacs series would know, but he can still do it all! And considering he survived throat cancer, and came back to not only work again but sing live!? He sounds amazing!

Maurice Lamarche was also of course a part of the show, and although he only "sang" one song as Brain, his interactions in character as Brain with Rob as Pinky were probably the highlight of the whole show. (They did a whole "Who's on First" sketch talking about what countries to conquer, with Pinky misunderstanding "Hungary", "Turkey" and "Chili".)

Maurice also did a showcase of his voice, including so many other Animaniacs and Futurama characters I had no idea were him, not to mention frikkin Toucan Sam and the narrator of Lexus commercials.

The only thing that disappointed me a little about the show, was they didn't really do anything from the 2020 series, but I guess Randy wasn't as involved with the music in that. So, oh well.

I didn't take many photos/videos during the show, since I wasn't fully sure of the etiquette (still kinda have my Japan brain for these sort of things) and since I was in the front row I wanted to give them my full attention. I think there are plenty of videos online anyway, since at least one segment was one I'd already seen before.

So, after the show ended, people began to line up for the meet-and-greet, and it was then that I fully understood what I had gotten myself into.

Each of us would get about a minute to talk with them individually, get their signature, and get a picture if we wanted. I was really kicking myself for not bringing anything to sign! I really had no idea it would actually be an option! (In the days leading up to the show I had been looking at Rob's website where I noticed he normally charges $60 for an autograph, so I didn't think he would do it for free.)

But more importantly, I realized I was going to have to actually face them. TALK TO THEM. The exact thing I had run away from earlier in the day.

And again, I considered just running away. But I had taken a spot on that list. A spot that could have gone to someone else and it was too late to give away now. So, I told myself, I had to see this through. No matter what.

As the line inched closer I panicked over whether they would recognize me from the hotel or not as I rehearsed in my head over and over again all the things I could say. I was honestly juggling between two or three entire scripts by the time it was finally my turn and when realized... after all that...

I did not need to say anything.

Rob saw my hoodie ("It's me!") so he knew I was there for him, and he knew I was nervous. So he did all the talking. (After all, that is his job. Literally!) He took my hand and complimented my hoodie, my hair, and everything. He said so many nice things about me (I even got a "Hellooooo nurse!") and even broke the ice by introducing me to "his friend the Brain" so I got to shake hands with Maurice as well. (I STILL THINK HE KNEW. So I felt a little awkward then but other than that) it was just such a wonderful interaction. Rob was so nice and kind and I got the impression he really, really cares about his fans.

So I missed out on the autograph, but I did get a picture, and I left the entire experience feeling so warm and fuzzy and oddly complete. Childhood dream achieved.

It took me another four busses and an uber to get home today (I left around 8am, walked into my door after 4...) but it was all very worth it.

I'm mostly at peace with how things turned out, but if I ever get the chance to see them again, at a Comicon or whatever, I'll be sure to bring a Futurama DVD boxset for Maurice to sign and maybe try to acquire an old Animanics or Mask the Animated Series VHS for Rob!

You know, it's pretty ridiculous how easy it is to meet and get signatures from famous voice actors in this country. That almost never happens in Japan. I mean, I'm planning to go to an actual Love Live concert in Japan next month, and here I am oddly depressed I can't fly out to Seattle to see Chiemi and Coco at Sakura-con instead because I might get to actually meet MEET them there haha.

Even though it would be another disaster if I actually did.

Hahah...

#another very long and rambly event/travel story from my life #maybe mostly so i myself can look back on it #but maybe you'll enjoy reading it too #animaniacs #rob paulsen #maurice lamarche

7 notes · View notes