#either way this is not a defense i personally don't fuckin like the guy

[kos-mos]

man the more i read abt y'all tryin to turn the mentality w john green, the less I understand what the original beef was

[halfetirosie]

Quincy is Unintentionally Comedy Gold; Edmond Is Fuckin COOL and I LOVE HIM ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

(Prison Cell 08-010 React-os!)

Guys, am I tripping, or are the Part 2 chapters significantly longer than the ones in Part 1 of this event?

1. PFFFFFT (≧∇≦)

Quincy... you sleep all the time, everywhere... Just how stressed were you that YOU couldn't sleep, and turned grumpy about it????

BRUH 🤦‍♀️

2. T....Topper-nese.....Quinglish......

EIDEN, SWEETIE, I LOVE YOU. NEVER CHANGE.

3. Topper is the ULTIMATE HOMIE!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

No, but, for real!!! I think sometimes we forget--since we, too, or not well-versed in Topper-nese--but every time we seen Topper looking out for Eiden and being genuinely concerned for him, it just warms my heart right up!!! What a dude!!!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

4. PFFFFFT (≧∇≦)

QUINCY, YOU'RE KILLING ME!!!

Quincy was literally only trying to talk to that guy, but the poor dude got so scared he immediately shifted into Fight or Flight mode!!!!

Yes, I realize that Quincy is just a Giant Man to people that don't know him, and I realize that they were in prison. BUT. Given the context we have, someone getting SO SPOOKY by just a Casual Quincy is hilarious to me.

I do feel kinda bad for Quincy, tho.... 😅

5. NO FUCKING WAY DUDE

PFFFFFT (≧∇≦)

OLIVINE JUMPSCARE!!!!!

YO. I was NOT expecting to see him here! Like, I started reading the bit with Eiden praying with everyone, and I just thought, "Oh my god, are they--?" And then, POOF! There's our boi, in all his glory! XD

In my defense, since they already pulled the 'ol Surprise Visitors in Part 1 (with the Yakumo Jumpscare), I didn't think they would do it again, okay??

6. I honestly love it when events tackle big societal issues; it happened in the last event, and it's happening again now!

Eiden's got me like:

(I keep finding myself in situations where I just HAVE to use this dumbass meme I made XD)

Nah, but this really is a conversation-starter, ain't it? Eiden does have a point--whether you give lawful justice of vigilante justice, at the end of the day, do either of those do anything to change the corrupt system?

Personally, I think there's a time and a place for either of those, but idk if I want to get into all of that right now... I'M not the one majoring in Philosophy...

7. THIS IS WHY I LOVE EDMOND SO DAMN MUCH!!!!

MY BABE! MY LOVE!!! YOU'RE SUCH A BADASS!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Listen. First in the Character-Ask Meme, then in the Giant Ed-Post for Fanfic Writers, what do I keep saying???? Time and time again?????

ED IS A FUCKING GOOD PERSON, WITH INTEGRITY, THAT GENUINELY CARES. THIS DUDE HAS PRINCIPLES AND HE STICKS TO THEM. HE WORKS GODDAMN HARD, DESPITE DANGEROUS SITUATIONS AND LONG HOURS, TO CHANGE SOCIETY FOR THE BETTER. HE'S DOING HIS FUCKING BEST TO COMBAT RAMPANT CORRUPTION.

THIS MAN IS A GODDAMN HERO!!! AND THIS LITTLE SPEECH HERE IS AN EXCELLENT EXAMPLE OF THAT!!!!

Hell, even Quincy (in his infinite wisdom) knows what's up.

Lord help me, I just can't stop simping for this man.....

♡ End of report ♡

[g0ttal0ve101]

Halloween Special <3

Note: ignore the date that this is posted haha I forgot last night 😓 anywho this is long as hell cause I love aubrie too much so good luck! tw: violence? ig? lol

always forget to tag u but @gh0stface-k1sser

“Mia, I don't wanna go.” Aubrie whined, struggling to unbuckle the car seat Mia stole from one of her clients. “I wanna party with you and Carly.”

Coming around the car to unbuckle her, Mia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You wouldn’t like going. It’s better if you stay over here with Lu and Kai.”

Aubrie shuddered and pouted her lip, clinging to the end of her jacket nervously. Mia took notice of her anxiety upon opening the door.

“What, you scared?”

Aubrie shook her head defensively. “No! I’m not scared! …When are you coming back?”

Realizing her anxiety might’ve been a result of being afraid of being abandoned, Mia took her a little more seriously. “After trick-or-treat tomorrow.”

Aubrie took one look at the front porch littered with gorey Halloween decorations and shuddered again. “You promise?”

“I promise. I bet you won’t even wanna leave anyway,” she teased, grabbing her little arm to give her a steady landing while getting out of the car. Once they stood side by side, they held hands. “You used to love hanging out with them when you were way little. You remember?”

“Yeah. Why do Kai’s teeth look like that?”

“You better not ask that or I’ll beat your ass.” Mia warned her as they approached the porch.

“But you said if I don’t stay in bed at night, Kai would be under there to bite me. Isn’t he a real vampire?”

“Aubrie.”

“That’s what you saaaid! I’m not lying!”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Mia sighed in annoyance. “Okay, okay, just don’t mention it around them.”

Aubrie hid behind Mia as she rang the doorbell an obnoxious amount of times, clearly intrigued by its sound. For a seventeen-year-old, she could definitely be childish sometimes.

When the door and screen door creaked opened, Aubrie nearly had a heart attack. She hid further behind Mia, peeking as though she were a tree to take cover behind.

“Happy Halloween, Mia!” Lucian bubbled, wrapping his arms around her out of instinct. This left Aubrie completely uncovered and at the mercy of Kai’s stare, which burned into her like cigarette cherries against an ashtray. She shuddered and grabbed at Mia’s jacket.

“I forgot how far you guys go with the decorations out here! These are fuckin’ awesome! Where’d you get ‘em?”

Lucian and Kai exchanged glances with a mischievous giggle.

“Well, it depends which ones you’re talking about. We got the pumpkins from the patch down by Evergreen Park—!”

Jumping into the conversation, Kai wrapped his arms around Lucian’s waist and locked eye contact with Mia as if to say ‘mine.’ “Wanna see how I got all the organs? I can show you.”

Mia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What’s up, Kai? You’re just as short as I remember you being.”

“And you’re still a—…”

Lucian tamed his mouth with a singular glance. It was more impressive than funny, though Mia couldn’t stop herself from letting out a sly giggle.

“Anyway, here’s the lil’ jerk.” Mia hummed, pulling her by the hood of her Hello Kitty coat to present her to the two boys. She struggled up until the point where she stood before them. “She’s really excited to go trick-or-treating with you guys.”

Aubrie was too busy having a staring contest with Kai to care about that lie. She couldn’t tell if he was just trying to creep her out or if he genuinely wanted her shot dead. Either way, her gaze was eventually directed toward Lucian as he kneeled down to talk to her.

“Hi, Aubrie!” He gushed with a smile that was sure to bring a shred of light into any darkness. Despite being an obviously physically affectionate person, he kept his hands to himself this time. “Your hair is so long and pretty! Does Mia do it all nice for you like that?”

Aubrie blinked in disbelief by the sudden burst of verbal affection she was receiving, especially from a guy. Aubrie couldn’t remember the last time she really even spoke to a guy who wasn’t related to the Mason family. Lucian was the first in weeks, probably even months. It made her a little uncomfortable. Guys always made her uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I do.” Mia said while patting her head proudly. “I thought I might as well pull it up since she’s gonna be staying the night. It gets tangled otherwise.”

Staying the night. Aubrie sort of wanted to cry even thinking about going one night without Mia being there to keep her safe. Then again, Mia wouldn’t leave her there if she didn’t think these two were safe, right? Her thoughts were spiraling.

“It’s cute! Maybe I can braid your hair later, huh? I like braiding hair.”

“Good, ‘cause I suck ass at it. She always asks for it though. See, Aubrie? You’d be better off with Lu than with me.”

Aubrie spun around and hugged Mia tightly, practically crawling on her and begging to be picked up. “Nuh-uh! I like being with you, Mimi! Don’t leave me here for good!”

Lucian and Mia laughed. Kai rolled his eyes.

“I won’t, muñequita. Okay? Now, go on.”

Her warm tone made Aubrie’s muscles relax involuntarily. It was soothing to the ears and even better for her mind as she released her and took a step toward Lucian all on her own.

“Thank you so much for taking her, you guys. Seriously, I would’ve been fucked if you guys didn’t.”

“Anytime!” Lucian bubbled, standing back up to give Aubrie some room to come in.

Kai interjected before that statement was thrown around so loosely. “Just this time.”

Mia folded her arms with an instinctive pissed-off tongue click. “Eso fue lo que dijo tu mamá cuando tu papá se quitó el condón para concebirte.”

“…What?”

“Love you, Lu. Love you, Aubrie. Byeee.”

They said their farewells and Lucian let Aubrie wave goodbye all the way up until Mia drove off. With her pink duffle bag full over overnight clothes stunting her balance a little, she waddled in alongside the two boys. She walked closer to Lucian than Kai.

“So, what do you wanna be this year, Aubrie?” Lucian asked, speaking in a tone so gentle that even Kai started getting enticed by it.

Blinking while deep in thought, she set her bag down clumsily. “Uhh…a princess!”

“Wrong,” Kai snapped. “That’s not scary.”

“Does it have to be scary?” Aubrie asked shakily, too nervous to even spare a glimpse in Kai’s direction.

Lucian kneeled down again to be eye-level with her and further drive her attention away from the way he was acting. “It can be whatever you want. Anything at all.”

Trying to appease Kai, she thought of the first scary thing that came to mind while looking at him. “…Can I be a vampire princess, then?”

Lucian’s eyes lit up from the mere thought of it. “Yeah! That’s a great idea! What color do you want your costume to be?”

“Black and red!” Aubrie cheered, imagining twirling in a big poofy dress. “All vampires wear black and they drink red blood, so black and red!”

“You’re right! I like the way you think. C’mon, I’ll help you put your stuff away.”

Kai watched as the two walked hand-in-hand up the stairwell and in the direction of their bedroom. Jealousy simmered inside of him. There was a part of him that knew it was wrong to feel so jealous of a little girl, but he couldn’t help it. It was the way Lucian spoke to her, interacted with her, and looked at her with such gentle, calculated eyes. He was wonderful with kids despite having no experience with them at all.

And Kai…

/—/—/—/—/—/—/—\—\—\—\—\—\—\

Aubrie was beyond exhausted from her long night of doing nothing but talking and playing with Lucian as he fixed up the costume for her. And although she wasn’t very scared of staying the night anymore, she still felt mildly uncomfortable while laying in their bed.

When she was first told she’d be sleeping in their bedroom, she was excited. At home, she never really had her own room before, so she believed sleeping by herself would be a big accomplishment. However, after a while of rolling around in their big bed and testing out all their blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals, she started to grow weary. Usually there was some sort of sound at home — Mia’s voice wandering around the house as she spoke to Carl on the phone, or the sound of dishes clinking together from her washing them, or the TV going...

That’s right. Aubrie peered up at the TV stand across the bed. She figured that by finding the remote, she’d be able to switch between the channels and pick a cartoon to fall asleep to. However, she was surprised to see that whenever turned it on, there was already a cassette inside. In other words, the TV was playing one of Lucian and Kai’s home-made videos.

She got nervous about what she might see and desperately hit every button to try to turn it off. Mia always told her to never watch the VHS tapes at home because they were secret “movies” she made with Carl and only for Carl to see. Aubrie didn’t have to ask why — she knew why. All grown-up couples do the same gross things, so she figured Lucian and Kai might fall under that category too.

Her constant button clicking did nothing. The tape began to play out with a low buzzing sound, recorded on a low audio quality camera. It started in the dark. Aubrie couldn’t see much of what was going on, but could hear swift footsteps tapping against a hard surface. Then, a bright light from the bathroom door opening flashed into the lenses.

“Kai, I told you not to bring that in here!” Lucian scolded with his arms tightly wrapped around his chest to hide his indecency. He was sitting in the bathtub with his hair in the shape of a mohawk, held by bubbles and douses of soap.

Kai deliberately held the camera at an angle where nothing personal could be shown. “I’m taking a picture of my masterpiece.”

Upon hearing his reasoning, Lucian dropped his arms, stuck his tongue out playfully, and pretended to headbang as if to mock a hardcore metal band. Kai laughed from behind the camera.

“Aah! Your hair’s splashing me!”

“Hahaha! So, you think I’m cute with a mohawk?” His hair was collapsing from the previous headbanging performance he gave. Sticking it back up into their original spikes, he slid his hands upward to keep them standing. By doing this, his pretty figure was subtly shown off.

“More sexy than cute.”

Lucian lowered his head with a seductive smile, staring right into the camera lense. “Don’t say thaaat…”

They laughed airlessly together as Kai practically smothered him with kisses, holding the camera at an angle to align their faces perfectly. Lucian’s face scrunched up in pure joy as his lips met his skin, playfully pushing him away.

“You’re so sexy, Lu.”

“Stoppp!”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Yeah, I’m not. Lemme do your hair again.”

“But I like it in a mohawk! You said I look sexy!”

“You always look sexy, silly.”

“This is the first time you ever said it out loud though, so the mohawk must be doing something for you.”

Kai practically died laughing. “Shut up! No!”

“You want me to cut my hair into a mohawk, huhhh? The things I do for love.”

Raising his hand, Kai slicked back all his hair back into its original shape. Lucian frowned.

“Lucian, I love you just the way you are.”

A smile reappeared on Lucian’s face from the comment, his cheeks suddenly a rosy pink. “Baby…”

Aubrie, invested in the tape, hadn’t noticed the door creaked open. Standing there to greet her was none other than Kai himself.

“What’re you watching?”

“GAH!” Aubrie screeched, practically throwing the remote at his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I accidentally turned it on…!” She sputtered, unsure of what he’d do once he saw the video playing out.

His eyes fell on the TV before he groaned and snatched the remote. Knowing she was at his mercy, Aubrie trembled. There had only been a handful of times where she found herself alone with Kai in her life and she’d prefer to keep it that way. Kai didn’t seem to particularly like her very much anyhow and she didn’t want to make it any worse by sticking around him.

He looked at her. She prepared herself for the beginning of a lecture about how inconsiderate and rude it was to look through their videos like that. At least, that’s what Mia would’ve done, with a little extra insults too. But Kai only watched her facial expressions vary between scared and confused, picking at her fingernails.

“…He’s cute, isn’t he?” Kai hummed playfully, setting the remote down once he shut the TV off again. “I forgot about that one. Lu must‘ve been watching it earlier.”

Aubrie nervously laughed. “Sorry, I-I thought it would turn onto the cable channels…”

“I don’t care.”

The way those words rolled off his tongue sounded harsh, but Aubrie assumed he meant it in a ‘I don’t care you watched it,’ kind of way rather than a ‘I don’t care what you’re saying’ way. She was still intimidated by either reaction.

“Do you need tucked back in?”

She was caught off guard by the sudden gentle sound to his voice. Blinking in disbelief and locking eye contact with him, she nodded silently and laid back down. Kai grabbed the ends of the blankets and pulled them over her petite figure.

“Thank you,” she squeaked.

Kai looked at her face for a long while, examining every feature she had, before smiling softly. “Are you excited to go trick-or-treating tomorrow?”

She had practically forgotten about it by that point. With so much going on and being unfamiliar to her, she found herself living in the moment ever since Mia dropped her off. And to that recollection of events, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah! Thank you for letting me go…”

Her gratitude clearly hit Kai hard. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he seemingly searched his mind for a response, unprepared for her sweet words.

“I didn’t want you to come, Lulu did. But I can’t say no to him, so that’s why you’re here.” Kai said bluntly.

Aubrie didn’t know if she should’ve felt offended. Telling by how nonchalant he said it, probably not.

“O-Oh…”

“Yeah. He’s the best. Don’t you think he’s the best? And the cutest? And funniest? And sweetest?”

“Um…yeah!”

“So you agree? You like him, then?” His voice suddenly grew intense, his eyes wide.

She started second guessing her answers. Mia told her that if she didn’t want to get in trouble she should always tell the truth, so she racked up her full-fledged opinion on the matter and hoped for the best.

“Mhm. He’s nice to me and…he doesn’t yell at me or call me names,” she murmured with bashful eyes. “I really do like him. Mimi really likes him too. I mean, she doesn’t even let me stay the night at Carly’s house without her, so…so that means she really trusts him to let me stay over now, even if you’re both boys. So, I trust you guys too.”

She cringed at herself. Maybe that was a little too honest.

Kai blinked in disbelief for a while before smiling softly at her. His eyes were less scary than before. “You talk more than I thought you did.”

She frowned. “Is that bad?”

“No.” Kai shifted his attention back toward the TV, perhaps reflecting on their original point of conversation. “You want me to turn cartoons on for you?”

Aubrie almost said no in fear she’d be a nuisance by agreeing, but knew she wouldn’t get sleep any other way. “Yes, please…”

With a click of a few buttons, Kai had it up and running in no time. Aubrie thanked him quietly but to no reply as he watched alongside her. The way he hovered near the bed made her nervous. She scolded herself for being such a baby.

Kai looked back over at her and she tensed up, preparing for another one of his curveballs. Seriously, there was no telling what the guy was going to say or do. Sometimes he looked like he wanted her dead, but other times he was as nice as ever. It was overwhelming for a people-pleaser like Aubrie.

“I’m gonna go back downstairs now, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Aubrie.”

Settling herself down into the blankets, she couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “Goodnight, Kai…”

Their eyes met again.

“I-I mean, goodnight, sir!”

Kai rested his arm against the doorway and looked back one more time before turning the light back off. “I like the first way better.”

—/—/—/—/—/—/—\—\—\—\—\—\—\—

Aubrie had almost forgotten how fun trick-or-treating was until she was back out in the crisp autumn air again. With cold fingertips and nose, she skipped down the sidewalk block to block with her pillowcase of candy gradually filling to the brim throughout the night. At first, she was too scared to go knock on the door by herself and had Lucian hold her hand. But after an hour or so, she was knocking and ringing every doorbell in sight without a care in the world.

All the adults looked at her with wide eyes when they opened their door or approached their table. She figured it was because of how scary her costume was, but failed to realize it was due to the amount of blood Lucian and Kai began to rack up on their costumes, standing close behind her.

“Trick-or-treat!”

“Aw, now aren’t you cute?” The elderly woman lifted her bowl toward Aubrie, showcasing all the goodies inside. As she dug through to find her favorite candy bar, the woman set her sights on the other two. Her smile soon shifted into a frown. “Where in God’s name did you get all of that blood? You look like you were down at the slaughterhouse!”

“Thanks!” Lucian cheekily said. His smile was so genuine that it was hard to be mad at.

But she found a way. “A little much for trick-or-treating, don’t you think?”

“What? Being zombies?”

“I mean, those costumes are just so gorey. We have young eyes around here, y’know.”

“Ohh, really? You think we went too far?”

Lucian’s understanding tone and loving eyes somehow made her more uncomfortable than she would’ve been if he cursed her out. She shuddered and clutched at the cloak draped over her shoulders. “Just a little bit, I suppose.”

Pointing up at his head covered in gooey pink and red slime to represent brains and blood, he giggled. “It’s the brains, isn’t it? I thought it looked cool—!”

“Just keep it in mind for next year, boys.”

Interrupted.

That old bitch just interrupted him.

Lucian laughed it off and dug his hand into the bowl next, looking over his shoulder at Kai. It was impossible to prevent what was going to happen next.

“…You’re so silly, kitty. C’mon.”

Swiping a piece of candy from the bowl, Kai interlocked his eyes with hers. She trembled from the mere thought of what laid behind those dull eyes.

“You wanna see real gore?”

“Kaiii, let’s go!”

Gargling on her own blood, the woman grabbed at the wound across her throat. The crimson color ran down her arms and costume, sprinkling into the candy as though it was sweetener. Just as the life left her eyes, Kai pushed her head back and set the bowl into her lap. The next group of kids thought she was playing pretend.

“…Coming.”

As they approached the end of the street, grabbing as many handfuls of candy they could from each house, Aubrie’s heart began to race. Mia never took her trick-or-treating on the South side. She always said it was for “trashy older kids.” Aubrie assumed she meant teenagers.

Upon crossing the street and walking a few blocks, Aubrie saw the number of kids her age windle out. There were ten, then eight, then six, then three, then one — herself. All the other groups of trick-or-treaters were at least thirteen or older, wearing more gorey and revealing costumes than the kids. Suddenly all the decorations seemed to get more detailed and the sky grew darker and air got colder and the crowds got bigger and bigger.

“I don’t think zombie lovers are really that scary, right? I thought it was cute!” Lucian whined, unwrapping a big cherry lollipop to suck on for the rest of the night. “We even put all those brains on you to make it seem like you ate mine! I guess she just didn’t get it.”

“…If I were a zombie, I’d probably eat your heart first anyway.”

“Aww, stop!”

Aubrie stopped dead in her tracks. The other two followed her lead with confusion written all over their faces.

“I wanna go home.”

. . .

“What?” Kai’s eyes had that same intense flair in them again, shaking the Earth to its core.

Baffled just as much as his boyfriend, Lucian asked the same thing. “What? What’s wrong, honey?”

Aubrie grabbed at his pant leg again, pressing her face against his thigh. “I’m scared!”

Kai and Lucian exchanged glances.

Kneeling to her level with a warm smile, Lucian yet again kept his hands to himself. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know it gets a little creepier over here, but I promise everything’s still the same. Besides, they have much better candy on this side of town! We won’t let anything hurt you, okay?”

Aubrie glanced up at Kai.

“I-I dunno…! I don’t think I—!”

Before she could finish, her feet were swept from off the sidewalk’s pavement. It took her a few seconds to process that Kai picked her up. She tensed. There wasn’t much she could do but stare at him in awe.

Lucian was just as surprised as she was, his mouth agape and his eyes wider than ever. A bright smile flashed on his face. Aubrie wasn’t sure why.

“Stop whining.” Kai said in a tone so cold it could give out frostbite, but his words were warmer than a beautiful summer day. He was trying to comfort her. “Now nothing can get you. Not even Lulu.”

“Aww man! I wanted to get her!” Lucian cried playfully.

Aubrie sniffled and laughed softly, trying to avoid showing her puffy face by wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder.

Lucian’s cheesy smile was impossible to miss. Kai smiled weakly back and rolled his eyes in an attempt to convince him that he didn’t like it.

Both Kai and Lucian were showered his compliments door to door, clearly hitting their target audience on this side of town. (Or maybe everyone was just being nicer because they were drunk.) From what Aubrie saw, she could tell everybody had way cooler outfits than the North side — after all, most people over here didn’t have the money for a store-bought costume and had to make theirs from scratch. She enjoyed taking a good look at their work and seeing how detailed they were, up until she started recognizing people.

Riley was the first she saw and knew. She knocked on the door three times, waited awhile, and began turning away to go to the next house before the door swung open and revealed her. She wasn’t wearing a costume — which was weird because Riley liked Halloween — and her eyes almost looked frantic. She held out a bowl of candy and checked behind her shoulder a few times, completely disregarding Aubrie’s presence.

“Trick-or-treat…?”

“I didn’t know you lived on the South side, Riley!” Lucian bubbled, clearly overlooking the strange behavior she was displaying. “Didn’t you live closer to the school?”

“…This is Sam’s house,” she murmured. Her eyes finally fell onto Aubrie. She smiled weakly. “I didn’t know he had so many trick-or-treaters on this street, haha…”

“I guess it’s sorta off from the main road, but yeah. Where’s Sam?” Lucian peered inside the house.

Riley tensed up. “Uh…he’s sick. Fever and all.”

“Dude, that sucks. We’re supposed to finish our American history project on Monday.”

“He should be fine by then, don’t worry. He’s just sleeping right now.”

“Right.” Kai said. Tension rose almost immediately after his tone hit the conversation.

Riley nudged the bowl toward him. Kai took a handful and shoved it into his bag with a blank stare.

“…Well, I hope he feels better!” Lucian stammered, grabbing at Kai’s arm in order to deescalate the situation. “Here, he can have some of my candy. I feel bad he’s missing out.”

“That’s okay—!”

Lucian shoved the candy into her hands anyway. “Some for you, too!”

She laughed softly and accepted it. “Okay, okay. Um…you should really go up the street some. I heard they’re passing out cake-pops.”

“Cake-pops?!” All three of them exclaimed, exchanging excited glances.

“Yeah. It’s that big house on the hill.”

“Thank you for telling us!” Lucian gushed, hurriedly skipping down the porch steps to get back on the move. “Tell Sam I said hi!”

“Okay…”

“See you Monday!”

“See ya…” Riley rushed to wave goodbye before eagerly closing the door.

Kai continued to stare at the house for a moment or two before turning away and following Lucian’s lead. Aubrie didn’t understand what it was he felt so uneasy about, but trusted his intuition. Kai always had a good instinct.

Happier than ever, Lucian twirled around and skipped down the sidewalk. This could’ve been from the raw excitement building up in his body after hearing the news of the good treats, but it probably had something more to do with all the sugar he’s had so far. He was practically bouncing off the walls.

“What kinda flavors do you think they have? I hope they have chocolate! I love chocolate! Vanilla’s okay too, but I love chocolate the most! How about you, Aubrie? Do you like chocolate or vanilla more? Maybe they have something like strawberry! Dude, imagine they have strawberry…”

Kai shifted Aubrie on his other hip. “I hope they don’t have the nasty corner store cake-pops. Those are gross.”

“No, no, no, Riley said they made ‘em!”

“Did she?”

“She did!”

Aubrie giggled. “Nuh-uh, she just said they had them.”

Walking backwards with his attention fully focused onto the two behind him, Lucian laughed. “Maybe you’re right, but I think she knows the corner store cake-pops are gross, so she wouldn’t have told us to go up there to get ‘em. Right, Kai? Right?”

Laughing at how frantic he was acting, Kai shook his head. “You’re being silly, Lu. How much candy did you eat so far?”

Lucian tapped on his chin and thought about it for a few moments. “Uhh…a lollipop, a chocolate bar, a bag of gummies, some chocolate pretzels, and I think…oh, and bubble gum! See?”

Lucian blew a bright pink bubble from his lips with the gum he was chewing. It popped as soon as he knocked into somebody and fell to the ground.

Candy spilled all over the pavement. Lucian rushed to pick everything up for the individual he knocked into, guilty and embarrassed for being so careless.

“Sorry, that’s my bad! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was—!” He stopped panicking once he saw who it was he knocked into. With a grand smile on his face, Lucian leaped onto him with a huge smile. “Happy Halloween, Max!”

Max, hugging him back while simultaneously bleeding from his nose, smiled wide enough to showcase some of his missing teeth. “Luuu, I didn’t know you were going trick-or-treating down here!”

“Yeah! Me and Kai usually go here last!” he gushed, scooping the candy up and shoving it back into Max’s half-empty bag. “Have you gone up to the big house on the hill?”

Wiping his nose with his sleeve before Lucian could see how bloody it was, he shook his head. “Noo…I can’t get up there with my crutches.”

. . .

“I knocked you over on your crutches?!” Lucian screeched, horrified as to how badly he could’ve hurt him. “Oh my God, I didn’t even realize! Shit, hold on!”

Kai set Aubrie down and helped Lucian lift Max up, who had a full medical boot on his left foot. Aubrie helped grab the crutches.

“Thanks you guys,” Max hummed despite his condition. It was like he was unaffected by any pain he endured — though, he was pretty used to it by then. “Don’t worry, I’m okay. This is the third time I fell tonight.”

“I’m so sorry!” Lucian hugged him tightly, practically breaking all the bones in his body by accident. “You can have all my candy, if you want!”

Max shook his head. “Nah, I’m good with what I have. I have more than enough to share with my big brother, sooo…oh! The big house on the hill! Yeah! Are you guys going up there?”

They nodded in unison.

“Well, be careful. That hill’s pretty steep. When I went up there last year, I fell all the way down and broke my right arm and left leg. Yeah, that sucked…but the lady’s nice, though.” Max locked eyes with Aubrie, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Woah, wait! You guys didn’t tell me you had a kid! What the heck! Are you guys gonna elope to France or something, what’s going on?! Are you gonna have more kids?! Like, babies and stuff? Dude, I wanna be an uncle! Lu, can I please be their uncle?”

Lucian laughed. Kai shuddered.

“No, Max. This is Miss Aubrie,” Lucian hummed, presenting her as though she were a princess. “We’re babysitting her!”

“Yeah, don’t say stuff like that…I will never change a diaper again.” Kai looked as though he saw a ghost.

Aubrie was sort of confused why he said ‘again’ until she remembered what Mia told her — Kai had tons of siblings, including a lot of little ones, before he ran from home. He was practically mom-ified at the age of four, taking care of kids that his parents refused to care about.

Suddenly, a whole bunch of things started to make sense. It was no wonder why Kai was hesitant to make an effort toward Aubrie’s stay. He didn’t want the responsibility of another kid.

Lucian wrapped his arm around Kai’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll change them if you end up giving me one.” He pecked his cheek with a flirtatious giggle.

Kai playfully pushed him away. “No, no, no, no, no, not happening, no.”

“Hahaha! Aww, but I think you’d be a good dad…”

“L-Lucian!”

“Whaaat? Am I embarrassing you? Sorry.” Lucian teasingly ruffled his hair. “It’s fine if you don’t wanna kid. I don’t mind having you all to myself…”

Max and Aubrie exchanged horrified looks, in awe by the sudden change in his behavior. Lucian was good at being a flirt. Too good.

In a blink of an eye, Lucian’s behavior returned back to its original form. “Anyhow, it’s so nice to see you, Max! Your costume is adorable! Did you do a pirate ‘cause the boot?”

“M-Mhm. Plus I lost all these teeth, so…”

“Right! How’s your big brother?”

“He’s doing good, but I just remembered he wants me home by eight, so I better get going, haha…”

“Are you gonna be okay walking home by yourself? We could walk you—!”

“No, no, I’ll be fine! See you Monday!”

Clearly shaken up by the flirting session that took place before his eyes, Max turned the corner faster than a guy on crutches probably should. Lucian was oblivious to how good his accidental performance really was, paying no mind to his hurried exit.

It didn’t take long before the trio reached the end of the driveway of the huge house on the hill. Aubrie thought it looked like something from a cheesy 90s horror movie, but nevertheless, it still creeped her out. There weren’t many people around at that point considering the time and how dark the sky was getting. She grabbed a hold of Lucian’s hand as they trekked up the steep hill, almost dragging her bag of candy on the ground because of how heavy it was. Kai helped her by picking it up.

“I’m so excited! I don’t think we’ve ever trick-or-treated here before!” Lucian gushed, despite being out of breath from the long haul. “But after this one, I think it’s about time to head home. It’s getting cold.”

Aubrie could tell he was just saying that because she was cold — his hand was warmer than ever. It felt nice to be able to hold it whenever they were trekking up together, otherwise she would’ve been worried about tripping.

Once they made it to the very top, they took a mini break before stepping onto the front porch. It was decorated with Jack-o-lanterns and candles all around, with one bowl sitting on a table. When they peered inside, however, it was completely empty.

“Damn. We showed up too late.” Kai murmured, clearly disappointed by the way he spoke.

Lucian laughed it off. “Oh, well. It’s okay. At least we burned some calories before we ate all this candy, right?”

Just as they prepared to turn back around, the front door opened. There stood an elderly man, looking at them as though he recognized them from somewhere. He smiled widely and stepped all the way out, showcasing his odd, tall, and frail figure entirely.

“Did she not make enough?” he asked, his voice hoarse as though he hadn’t spoken in months.

Lucian politely replied as always. “Yeah, but that’s alright! There’s always next year.”

“…I have some more inside. C’mon…”

Aubrie remembered what Mia told her at that exact moment — if a stranger were to ever invite her inside their house, she should kick them in the nuts and run. She was prepared to do just that before Lucian’s voice interjected her thoughts.

“No, it’s better we get going. Thank you though.”

His eyes fell onto Aubrie. She felt like he was going to capture her very soul just by his eyes.

“Mmh, a very pretty young lady. What’re you supposed to be?” His words were slurred as he spoke.

Hesitantly, she answered. “A vampire princess…”

“Wow. You’re just sooo pretty…”

He reached for her to see it closer. But before his fingertips could even graze her delicate skin, Lucian grabbed his arm and yanked it away harshly. She could see his fingernails digging deep into his forearm as though he were prepared to break it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not a pedophile. I just wanted to see her costume bett—!”

“You can see it perfectly fine as is.”

“…What’s your problem, kid? Get the hell off me. I’ll call the police.”

“Yeah? You gonna call the police ‘cause you just tried to grab a seven-year-old girl while you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drunk…”

“Oh, yeah you are. I can smell the liquor from here. Now you better get your sorry ass inside that house or I’ll give you a good lesson on how to keep your hands to yourself. Pick.”

“Quit treating me like I’m a pedophile ‘cause I wanted to see that little bitch’s costume better!”

In the blink of an eye, the man stumbled backward and fell on his ass, holding his wrist as though it was coming off. It probably felt like it was. Lucian slit it open right along the vital veins.

“Goddamnit! Shit! God, God, God! What the fuck did you do?!” he screeched as blood poured from the wound nonstop. He rushed into the house faster than a flash of lightning.

Lucian turned towards the two of them with a little bit of blood on his face. He always looked better with blood. Always.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His voice was slow and shaky, coming off of the adrenaline rush. “I didn’t mean to scare you. That guy was just talking so gross that I had to. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, honey. Please don’t be scared.”

Aubrie hugged him without hesitation. He held her close for a moment before lifting her off her feet and stroking her hair back.

“I’m not.”

Kai watched, this time feeling no sense of envy at all. Aubrie was a special little girl. That’s why instead of crying like a normal kid would, she smiled ear-to-ear instead.

/—/—/—/—/—/—\—\—\—\—\—\—\

“Kai, are you a real vampire?” Aubrie asked curiously, sitting on the couch while getting her hair braided.

They immediately started giggling together. She was too damn cute for them to handle. Especially when she sat so politely and seemed so serious.

Playing along, Kai nodded and rested his head on Lucian’s shoulder. “Mhm.”

“Oh…so are those bites on Lulu’s neck real? Is he gonna be a vampire now, too?”

Blush spread across both their faces before the doorbell rang, saving them from the embarrassing moment they almost found themselves in.

Lucian hurriedly finished off the braid while Kai collected all her bags, heading toward the door to answer it. There, he saw Mia and Carl standing side-by-side, smiling like a bunch of idiots. The strong smell of alcohol was not only overwhelming but concerning — Carl could hardly stand up straight.

“Heyyy, pretty kitty.” Mia teased, swaying back and forth with a dopey smile. “Where’s my baby at? Auuubrie! C’mon, we gotta go hooome!”

Lucian brought her over with a bright smile. “She was an angel. Did you guys have fun?”

Mia hummed and waved Aubrie over, evidently too drunk to even remember to reply in a coherent sentence. Lucian laughed nervously.

“Mia…you’ll be okay to drive, right?”

“Yessir, yes, yes, yes. I am very, very good at driving, sir. I will go home safe. Aubrie, please c’mon. Carly’s gonna throw up and prolly piss himself.”

Whining, Aubrie shook her head. “I wanna stay!”

“…Goddamnit, Aubrie. We don’t have time for that. Say bye-bye and let’s go.”

“But—!”

Muttering in Spanish, Mia rubbed her temples. “They need some time alone now, okay? We gotta go.”

On the verge of tears, Aubrie hugged both Lucian and Kai. “Can I come back? Please?”

“Of course, honey.” Lucian hummed.

“Anytime.” Kai added with a soft pat to her head. “Now, go on. Mia missed you.”

That seemed to put her in the mood to go home. Grabbing Carl’s hand and wiping her teary eyes, she waved goodbye and smiled brightly. Mia said thank you a thousand times before they all headed back to the car, driving off slower and safer than usual. At least Mia kept that promise.

After the door shut, Lucian sighed heavily with a sleepy grin.

“That went well.”

“Mhm.”

. . .

“But it’s good to be able to do this again,” Kai hummed as he held Lucian close and kissed on his neck. He giggled and tried to squirm away, but his grip was too strong.

“Aaah! Don’t turn me into a vampire! Nooo!”

“Too late. You’re mine now.”

Lucian sighed lovingly and stopped fighting it. “Forever.”

[tapedsleeves]

What's your favourite position in hockey and who is your favourite on that position?

It would be soooo soooo easy for me to say Goalies. Because goalies are, in the broadest sense, the guys I like and connect to even on teams that I don't particularly like. If I don't know anyone else on the team, there's a good good chance I'll at least know the goalie.

but everyone likes goalies. And I do too! but are they my *favorite?* I don't think so.

And I could tell you the position of my favorite individual players - centers, mostly, or more generally just forwards. Because they're the second most prominent guys on the team, right?

Because Hockey is a game of oppositional forces. Guys trying to score (forwards) and guys trying to stop the puck (goalies). But there's also defensemen. Stoic, enigmatic. What do defensemen even do?

Make me love them, of course.

A bad defenseman is immediately noticeable. A great defenseman is immediately noticeable. A good to mediocre defenseman is - well. Not invisible, but he's just. A guy. A body on the ice to most people. What's he doing there? He must be doing something. And often they are.

That anonymity can go either way.

A bad goalie is going to get pulled, or their defensemen are going to protect him. A forward who can't score can be shored up by other forwards or defensemen.

Who helps defensemen? Other defensemen (and really really good forwards). Most forwards don't have the defensive skills, or the time, or both to help defensemen out all the time. And goalies have to stay in the net.

And so, because I'm bisexual, and because I like things that are sometimes bad and people don't like, and things that do the hard jobs even when it's not glamorous.... Defensemen are probably my favorite.

So - who's my favorite? I don't fuckin know bud. Your guess is as good as mine. It's just as inscrutable and up for debate as to what makes a good defenseman. Scoring? (Karlsson, Hughes, Makar) Blocked shots? (Martinez, McNabb) Skating? (Theodore, Hughes, Makar)

My answer to this is: it's a personality contest and I love Ben Hutton, Barbie Girl. He's a perfectly decent defenseman - in and out of VGK's line up as the 7th defenseman in a line up with 3 excellent d-pairs. Always smiling and good natured. A whole sleeve of tattoos. Birthday: 4/20. Doesn't like chocolate (he's just like me fr fr).

But IS Ben Hutton good? Yes, I say. Unequivocally. He's VGK's floating 7th d-man for a reason. Always ready to fill in, seamless when he's in. Just because he didn't work out in VAN doesn't make him bad. Just because he's not in the full-time line up doesn't make him bad. VGK's system works for him in the same way that it makes Hague and Whitecloud look great (they are), and McNabb and Theodore look even better.

My favorite players of that position would be Theodore, Hamilton, Chabot, Borgen - players all who i genuinely enjoy watching play hockey for hockey's sake.

[pokemedia-text-dump]

teko's uhhhhhh guide to hammer-swinging idiots i think

so i saw a certain @ConcernedRowlet's guide to pokemon care on chatter and i was immediately like "hey this is super good and all but you know what it needs? more memes and affectionate badmouthing of the pokemon in question" so allow me to enlighten you about how to care for these little hammer shitling goblins through the lens of my personal experiences and a shitload of sleep deprivation in the form of a rotumblr post

[ahem] "fuckin' tinkatink line! how do they work?"

[Image ID: A half-conscious Tinkaton sprawled out on its hammer, covered in grime and food debris. Its tongue is hanging out of its mouth slightly.] yes they truly are the pinnacle of grace, aren't they

these guys are all-female fairy/steel types and they're uhhhh so like you know those inventors in a lot of TV shows the ones who somehow come up with just the thing to save the day and can casually flaunt the rules of science because it's cool for the audience to watch like uhhh professor farnsworth or something ...yeah imagine that, but they're perpetually disheveled and constantly acting like they just did a line of cocaine and pounded back a six-pack of monster immediately after

let's start with tinkatink tiny babey the little rattle thing they hoist around that's supposed to be a hammer due to them not being very strong in this form it's less a "hammer" and more like "heavy-ass monster hunter greatsword" to them their technique with it is less "hit the enemy" and more of a "use the sheer weight and heft of the thing to swing yourself around in the hopes you manage to concuss something" sort of thing it's important to get them accustomed to using it quickly so they're less likely to hurt themselves trying to flail around, especially in battles

they're fiercely protective of their little scrap clump, and for good reason you know how i said they're not very strong well ferrovores (metal eaters like aggron or steelix) often eat their hammer  it's like a little iron-flavored sucker this is bad news for the tinkatink, because having the physical strength of a wet spaghetti noodle doesn't do much for self defense

this is not a wild pokemon exclusive thing, either if you have any ferrovorous pokemon in your squad be sure to establish early on that this thing is friend, not food it's important for the tinkatink too they're perfectionists when it comes to the hammer and will take it pretty hard if it gets eaten what you should do if this happens is assure them it's not their fault, and give them little pieces of scrap metal to help them along

now onto tinkatuff! bigger! stronger! dumber? these guys are sort of like the vigoroth of the line well uh if vigoroth didn't evolve into a fat lazy fuck, at any rate in this form, your buddy gets more of the hyperactive temperament the line is known for

they're also very stupid there i said it i'm sorry but they are dumb as all distortion like, they're not dumb in the sense that there's nothing going on up there like a slowbro or volcarona but they're morons in the same way as a frat boy with ADHD on top of having a ridiculous amount of ideas rattling around in their skulls (most of them poorly thought-out) they think they know everything when they really, really don't and since they have the impulse control of a two year old things can go...badly

[Video ID: A Tinkatuff, gleefully carrying a large fragment of a Copperajah tusk and cackling, while getting chased across the screen by a herd of Cufant. Leading them is a very angry-looking Copperajah with most of its left tusk missing. The trainer holding the Rotom Phone can be heard facepalming, then proceeding to mutter "I told you this was a bad idea, you pink idiot..." He then sends out a Ceruledge and starts running forward in an attempt to protect the Tinkatuff.]

in this form it's imperative for you to put a lot of effort into cleaning them this is because they get...filthy like really filthy here's a fun little experiment: attach a poke doll or other such plush toy to a pokemon's leash and let it drag through the dirt as it runs then briefly dunk it in whatever you're cooking for dinner  congratulations you're now in the ballpark of how dirty they get

in the wild they basically live in huge burrows of scrap metal and food waste they make in their forges they have little to no standards for cleanliness because of this told you they were like frat boys they eventually begrudgingly pick the bare minimum off of their trashpile-mates when their fur becomes super duper matted and stuff it's up to you to keep them from getting to this point by gently scrubbing, cleaning and thoroughly combing their fur on the regular fortunately they don't like, hate baths and stuff: they just really can't be assed to clean themselves in the slightest

ooh right right right the hammer almost forgot about that not long after evolving these guys will seek out any metal they can get their mitts on to beef up their hammer ...the "beefing up" usually consists of just taping on a few pieces of bent metal and lengthening the pole, but still, A for effort

but when i say any metal i mean any metal they can and will get it off of a large appliance, your plumbing, even a steel-type corpse if you leave them to their own devices they can literally smell metal so don't think your plumbing is safe either so as soon as they evolve it's best to get them more materials fortunately many stores in paldea (and a few other places) sell different types of sheet metal for the express purpose of sating their appetite and if not just going to your local hardware place is usually enough to tide them over or if you're really cheap you could just rummage for stuff in local scrapyards take her with you when you do this your partner has a good eye for what they're after, she'll know which kind of metal is right for her the hammer gets juiced up more and more as they get stronger so you're gonna have to provide them with more metal when it finally reaches a certain size and grandiose-ness you can often expect them to evolve not long after

on top of that, being the ADHD-ass little nutjobs that they are, they test their hammer by smashing it against whatever catches their eye they get much physically stronger here, so their swings have a bit of heft to them now unless you want a lot of ventilation in your home take measures to control this immediately fill a punching bag with rocks, let them go nuts with it, and put it back up again whenever they start beefing up their hammer some more this teaches them not to hit random stuff

and finally tinkaton! tinkaton are crafty very crafty they're still not smart by any means but they are crafty so crafty, in fact, that they often use other pokemon as tools

[Video ID: A Tinkaton, holding a Charcadet upside down above a hunk of metal that it's working on. The Charcadet's fire plume is shining brightly as the Tinkaton uses it to weld a handle to its creation like a blowtorch.]

there are close to no limits on what they can find uses for, so if one of your team members finds themselves getting used as a power drill or smth, don't be surprised: this even applies to their battle strategies

they get a lot stronger in this phase and i mean a lot you think some of the stuff fighting types like machamp and conkeldurr can handle are impressive try hurling around a 200lb+ blunt object like it's a long twig and still being able to lift more if they wanted to they could probably swing you around as a hammer too! ....not sure how well that would go, since you'd probably splatter as soon as they hit you against something, but they still could!

their hammer is very large and elaborate now it's almost a miracle that it's still built around the same rattle thing it had as a tinkatink! they don't need beds or blankets or anything because, get this, they just plant the hammer into the ground and pass out i always wonder how their back isn't torn to fucking pieces when they wake up from sleeping on a giant lump of metal if they trust you enough, they'll eventually start lightly bopping you on the head with it as a sign of affection!

in the wild, they live in large clans with other members of their line called "forges" these forges are equal part giant trash and scrap burrows and huge testing grounds for whatever crazy thing they decide to band together and build they also make prosthetics for wounded pokemon out of steel-type carcasses in exchange for scrap metal and berries!

forges typically give roving trainers a wide berth because they know pissing off humans is a bad idea very rarely a stray tinkatuff will ignore this because, again, they're foolhardy dumbasses if they go after you just hit it with a few status moves and it'll typically turn tail and get a stern talking to from the forge's elders or you could just use whirlwind or smth the different forges in paldea are proficient at utilizing different pokemon, and even form sort of partnerships with them for example the asado desert forge teams up with varoom and revavroom to use them as steeds [Image ID: A Tinkaton with a red scrap cloth headband riding a Revavroom, leading a pack of Tinkatuff and Tinkatink riding several Varoom.]

as you'd guess from this they're very social creatures it's important to let them bond with the rest of your team better in this form, as they serve as surrogates for their pack if you want you can also visit your local forge to let your tinkaton screw around with the forge members a bit for funsies

a common misconception is that tinkaton hunt down corviknight by tossing rocks (or sometimes other pokemon, such as falinks troopers) at them in the air with their hammer hence why squawkabilly is used as the flying taxi coach in paldea this is actually a lie and they get hard walled by corviknight (and then they get salty over not being able to do anything useful in the battle) they do it because to them it's funny as shit it's like their equivalent to miltank tipping they don't really do it to other people's corviknight because it's not as funny: they don't get as surprised because they're far closer to the ground

they're also super driven to build stuff what is "stuff?" nobody knows! not even them! sometimes they just get a flash of inspiration and start scribbling out plans for some sort of grandiose scrap metal behemoth and you just have to roll with it if you have a bit of engineering/mechanical know-how, you can feel free to join in the fun!

....unfortunately that's where the burglary sprees start

now i know what you're thinking you little smarty-nipple

"wehhhh but maybe yours is just a bad temperament or you're not raising it right or-"

N O .

i have worked with several of these rattata bastards and i can say with complete certainty that they're all a bunch of kleptomaniacal shitheads seriously if you took one of those Rabbid things from Rayman and gave them a hammer well uh you wouldn't exactly have a tinkaton but you'd be pretty arcdamn close

if they need metal and you don't give it to them they will steal things computer parts refrigerator doors stove hatches engine blocks it does not matter what it is or what it's made of if it ain't nailed down and it's made of metal they're taking that shit this is why it's really, really important to teach them to ask for your aid if they're in the mood to build something

they also need to hunt wild steel-types not often, mind you, kinda like pyroar prides but it's still sometimes tinkaton are hardwired to kill for their materials giving them sheet metal and stuff helps with the urge to build but not the urge to "disassemble" steel types you'll need to get the proper licenses to hunt pokemon and only go after any steel-types that are in season to do this what they're after is metal pokemon with only small bits of metal on their body, or those which have the metal-y bits on the inside, like lucario or togedemaru, are typically off the menu they also need you to help, and possibly your other pokemon remember what i said about them being pack hunters to them, you're the pack's leader, so they look to your guidance for hunting

unfortunately this, along with the stealing part, is why a lot of trainers end up abandoning/releasing them in this phase some people can't bring themselves to be complicit in outright hunting down pokemon, only capturing them, which is understandable being denied part of the enrichment it needs, the tinkaton begins lashing out in other areas to try and vent some of the stress it's built up with no other suitable outlets this can lead to your opponents or even other people getting seriously hurt if you're looking to raise one of these guys, please, look for a suitable alternative unless you're willing to really, really commit that said, give 'em what they need and rein them in here and there and you'll have a loyal (if slightly violent) partner who can come up with some truly amazing things like this [Image ID: A Tinkaton decked out in an imposing suit of armor made from assorted scrap metal and Steel-type hide, posing triumphantly atop its hammer, which is planted into the ground. The armor has a Corviknight's head plating as a helmet, and a segment of a Forretress' shell hanging from the back like a cape.]

finally, a few anecdotes from my own specimen of these dum-dum yokel gremlins

cotton likes eating her food on her hammer as well as sleeping on it, yet she doesn't like it getting cleaned ...she doesn't seem to make the correlation between a dirty hammer and more baths ...nor does she seem to care

she likes listening to "Sweet Release of DEATH - Sugary Spire" before battles because it gets her even more hyper than usual this helps because i like to use her as a support lead/damage dealer hybrid, because, as befitting their crafty nature, they learn a lot of support-oriented moves

anyway yeah that's all i got later nerds

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3568

fun fact about me, i've had a tab open in my browser on my phone for at least seven years that's open to Sansûkh, a hobbit/lotr fic which i have been meaning to read for every one of those years, but i have not yet read it because i am a disaster.

but the gods have smiled upon me and have blessed the world with the beautiful humans who are creating a webcomic of it. if you wish to read it and sob with me as you do, their tumblr account is @sansukhcomic and i have just gotten up to date with what's been posted. it's beautiful and i have been crying the whole time.

delightful.

anyway.

today i slept in but had to close the window in my room bc it's fuckin hot and humid as fuck. 0/10, do not recommend. why am i looking at jobs in warmer humid climates. why can't everything be in alaska.

anyway.

i worked with nancy and the kids today, and we were able to get stuff done, thankfully. it was nice to be able to help them finish things up and get it submitted and all.

got home, had dinner, got ice cream with my dad and listened as he talked about a shitty situation at work where someone misinterpreted what he said and got insulted. my papa gets defensive about stuff a lot, and so i told him he was looking at the situation the wrong way. instead of evidence, i told him he needed to apologize for offending the guy. like of course that wasn't his intention to insult him or whoever, but the guy took it the wrong way and the fact that he then complained makes a big difference. i told papa to send him an email and to apologize for the misunderstanding, to add that he understands where he was coming from and reiterate that it wasn't his intent to offend.

i've gotten a lot of experience talking to people, both neurotypical and neurodiverse, when it comes to apologizing for things. say everything you mean and only and exactly what you mean. no room for discussion, no room for misinterpretation or error. say what you mean and mean what you say. acknowledge how they feel and apologize that what you did made them feel a certain way. state what you did wrong and what you will do to improve/fix the issue. reiterate that they are a person you respect and add why you respect them. then say something like i hope we can still work together or i will make sure that this doesn't happen again or a combo of it or something else equally humble and assumptive of their generosity in forgiving you.

that at least is how i do apologies. or part of how i do apologies. it's formulaic but it works. it's the sandwich thing, kinda.

if anyone has feedback or whatever, lmk, either on the apology letter contents or phrasing or whatever because my dad is so defensive on everything. he takes all comments and criticism as a personal offense from everyone but me and my older brother jared. so im lucky he listens to me, but i don't know everything.

anyway, i gotta ask joel how his conversation with his boss went. asking if he can go full remote instead of being tied to a location.

that's it, i think. not looking forward to sweating all night.

mom goes in for surgery tomorrow morning to get a stent placed in her side for kidney stone removal surgery on friday. i wish i could be home to help take care of her. i know everyone else has to many other things they'd rather do than help someone get better, but im good at taking care of people. and i wish i could pass that on, pass that care and affection on to anyone else in the house. literally anyone else. but i'm the one who has it, but i work the most out of everyone in the house. i work the most and i work the furthest away. so it sucks. mom is considering paying me to stay out of work to take care of her after surgery on friday.

i feel bad. i wish i didn't work so much. i wish my boss hadn't changed the schedule around and make our team shrink. i wish i were able to get time off of work. i wish i could do that. but because of how the schedule is structured now, i can't take any fucking time off. gotta love that. the day i requested off so i could be out of town with joel at the end of the month was denied because we can't get people to fucking cover because we have SEVEN PEOPLE WHO ALL ALREADY WORK MORE THAN 40 HOURS A WEEK. so that's fucking terrible. and it's not fair. i'm pretty sure that breaks some sort of labor law. or something.

maybe if we were unionized like the physical security we could do that. but since we're not we have no say in this shit. and there's four of us who get the weekend shift shaft while the others are fine and work their cushy 40 hours during the week and go home and have a weekend while the rest of us are fucking exhausted as FUCK because we have multiple 12 hour shifts instead of 8 hour shifts ALL IN A ROW so by the end of the week we all want to fucking die. i'm sick of it.

how am i supposed to say this is good "work life balance" if the balance beam they give me is covered in fucking knives.

[thenexusofsouls]

"Woooow. Thanks," Wade said, chuckling a little. "I'll get right on that." He knew this was a conversation neither one of them could ever have with Crenshaw. He wasn't sure what had happened to his friend over the years, but he'd become a very defensive and abrasive person. Even light teasing or jokes directed at him were met with an uncomfortable sort of hostility from him. A comment of, "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" or "What the fuck did you say?" would follow and suddenly it was like the air in the room had changed, and everyone was on edge. Then came the backing off, the apologies, and the hope that it didn't escalate, when all that had been meant was some light, playful teasing among friends.

With Rose, there was never any of that terrible tension or those hurt feelings. Wade never felt uncomfortable or defensive around her. If anything, she put him at ease in a way no one else did. He just wished he'd been the one to make the first move, but... there was no point in thinking about that anymore. He'd missed his chance with her, and that was that. It was weird, because Wade was pretty good with ladies. He'd always been a pretty confident guy and girls always seemed to like him when he was younger, but... with Rose he'd hesitated. Probably because with her, it mattered. He'd gotten nervous, overthought it, waited too long, and now... now she was with Crenshaw. He had some hope when they'd had their little night of fun that she might reconsider, but she didn't, so now he had to respect that. He was trying his best.

"I know. I will, just as soon as my work's done and... you know, you stop botherin' me," he joked. She wasn't bothering him at all, except for maybe making him hot and bothered. As the conversation turned to Crenshaw, though, Wade found himself getting annoyed at the universe. If Rose didn't want to be with him, that was fine, but why did she have to be with Crenshaw? She deserved better, and he wished he could make that happen for her. "Yeah, well... He's not gonna find anyone better than you, so I just don't get why he's gotta be lookin' elsewhere all the time. It's like he's goin' out for fuckin' one dollar chicken nuggets when he's got a whole filet mignon at home, like what the fuck is he thinkin'?" Wade said with a shrug.

It bothered him even more, though, that Rose was staying with Crenshaw to... not cause problems in the group? Wade shook his head. "Don't worry about the group. You need to do what you need to do for yourself. Stay with him because you love him and you wanna make it work, not because you don't wanna disrupt the team. Whatever you decide, we'll work with it, around it, whatever we need to do, so don't worry about that, okay?" If she was gonna stay with him, Wade wanted it to be for the right reasons, not because she was afraid of breaking up the team. That wasn't a good reason to stay with someone or not.

The shots were starting to hit him, though. Tequila was always one of those drinks that hit him hard, though he couldn't say he was sorry that was happening. Just as long as he behaved his damn self around Rose. That was easier said than done, because every time he looked at her, all he could think about was the mind-blowing sex they'd had. Stop thinkin' about it! He felt his face flushing hot. At least I can blame it on the booze.

"Geez," Wade said with another chuckle. "You're like the most badass chick I've ever known, you know that?" At her assumption that he'd fall into his stride after a couple more shots, Wade laughed out loud. "Yeah, or I'll faceplant onto the floor, either way, right?" he said, lifting his next shot. "Here we go." He held it up to clink against her glass before downing it. Another little cough followed. "God damn..." he strained. "I'm gonna be good for nothin' tomorrow, I can tell already," he said.

“I’ve missed you. So much.” (Rose for Wade; @mxrvelouscreations

@mxrvelouscreations

"You've been on my mind too," Wade said. He knew he shouldn't be saying things like that to Rose, but it was hard not to. He'd fallen hard for her, despite her wanting to officially stay with Crenshaw. Honestly, he didn't fault her for that. They were together first, after all. It hurt, but it was ultimately her decision. But any time she did pay him the kind of attention he ached for, he accepted it graciously, even against his better judgement.

He really didn't expect Rose to want to keep seeing him this way, not after that one time they were together. As much as he couldn't get her off his mind, he forced himself to accept that it was just a one-time thing. Except that ended up not being true. "How are you? Everything okay?" he asked, knowing there were a lot of fights and drama between her and Crenshaw, and that it weighed on her. Wade just loved Rose. He genuinely loved her. All he wanted was to be there for her, even if she never ended up wanting him in any official sense.

[drabbles-mc]

Could you do a HC on how the Mayans men would react to a girl getting hit on at a bar and the guy not taking no for an answer, like they don't know her or anything. I feel like they all respect women enough to at least do something about it; ya know?

All of the Mayans men wake up every day and drink a full pitcher of Respect Women Juice. They will not tolerate disrespect in their house. HC’s under the cut!

(I couldn’t decide if i wanted to do third person or reader insert for these but I settled on reader insert. Hopefully it works alright)

Bishop:

-Senses the tension immediately 

-My man sits back and watches the entire clubhouse all night. He knows everything that’s going on. And when he notices that some guy is refusing to leave you alone, he instantly gets up and goes to intervene.

-He’s not hot-headed about it. He doesn’t have the time or the energy for that anymore. But he places himself between the two of you, looking back and forth, “Everything alright here?”

-The guy would try to brush it off and reassure him that yea, of course everything is okay you can leave now. But Bishop wouldn’t have any of that. He’d cut him off mid-sentence, “I wasn’t fucking asking you.”

-He’d turn to you and ask again if you’re alright. You’d give a slight shake of her head no, not wanting to stir up drama but also not wanting to deal with this dude anymore. And that’s all it would take.

-”I think you should leave,” he wouldn’t yell. Just state it as a fact. But when the guy would try to argue that’s when he would get a little more heated. He’d step in closer to the dude’s face, but not putting hands on him, “I said you should fucking leave.”

-Bishop only uses yelling and brute force as a last resort. Very rarely does it ever come to that. He would follow the guy all the way to the clubhouse door, making sure that he actually leaves before going back to check on the poor girl that he was harassing. He 100% lingers close for the rest of the night to make sure no one bothers you.

Angel:

-King of being the Fake Boyfriend.

-My tall boy might be emotionally illiterate sometimes but he can read a social situation. When he sees a girl scrambling to try and come up with excuses to make a guy leave her alone, he has no problem inserting himself into the situation. 

-Smooth as fuck walking up to you, greeting you while resting a protective hand on your shoulder. Instantly setting the tone to whoever is talking to you that this was a useless endeavor.

- "Hey, querida,” he’d wait for you to look at him, “Sorry, didn’t see you walk in. You get a drink already? Want me to get you something?”

-The look in his eyes would let you know that he’s offering you an out to the uncomfortable situation that you’re in. He’s not trying to flirt--he’s just trying to drive away whatever asshole wasn’t catching the hint that you didn’t want to talk.

- "Who the fuck are you?” this is a problem that the guy did not see coming.

-Angel would look at him, eyes narrow, “I’m her boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?”

- The question is rhetorical. It doesn’t matter who the guy is. Angel doesn’t give him a chance to answer. He steps closer to the guy, towering over him. He looks down at him and is practically begging the guy to say something stupid so he has an excuse to physically throw him out the front door.

- He doesn’t get the chance, though. The guy reads the cue, knows that it’s a fight that he will not win, and walks away.

- Angel would turn back to you, “You good? Sorry about that. Didn’t seem like he was getting the hint.”

- You’d shake your head, “He wasn’t. Thank you, I appreciate the assist.”

- “No problem,” he’d pause, “But forreal did you get a drink already? First round on me.”

Ezekiel:

- Y’all remember the casino scenes with the cops? That’s how he handles shit.

- Master of keeping his cool in frustrating situations. Completely follows your lead. He sees a lot of weird interactions being on the serving side of the bar, always clocking what’s happening in front of him in case he has to step in.

-He’d notice you rolling your eyes and giving short answers. He’d also notice that the guy either isn’t picking up the cues, or is willfully ignoring them. EZ catches your eyes a few times, silently asking if you want him to step in. You shake your head--the guy is annoying but harmless for the time being.

- Then he tries to touch you. Casually reaching for your shoulder, trying to rest his hand on your knee. You recoil, trying to create more space between the two of you. He doesn't care though.

- That’s when EZ can’t keep it to himself anymore. He’d sigh, not looking up from the glasses that he’s cleaning, “I don’t think she’s into you, man.”

- You and the man would both turn to look at him, each of you with a surprised expression on your faces. You’d stay quiet, wanting to see how the situation was going to play out. The man next to you would scoff, “I don’t remember you being part of this fucking conversation.”

- “I might as well be if I have to sit here and watch it. You’re the only one out of the three of us not suffering from how uncomfortable this is.”

- His commentary would ruffle some feathers. The man next to you would get defensive, “No one asked for your fucking opin--”

- Knowing that EZ had your back would give you a little extra confidence, “You should listen to him,” you nod, “He’s right. We’re suffering.”

- He’d be caught off-guard by the two of you teaming up on him. Realizing it wouldn't be worth the fight, he’d huff and walk away. EZ would watch him and chuckle, calling after him, “Least you could do is pay your fucking tab!”

- You’d laugh, glad to be done with the uncomfortable situation, “His drink and whatever you want are all on me tonight. As a thank you.”

- He’d give you that little smirk, “Don’t mention it.”

Coco:

- Zero tolerance policy.

- Not coy or polite about it at all.

-Instantly uses himself as a barrier between you and whatever guy it is that’s not leaving you alone. He might not be the biggest guy in the MC, but he sure as hell carries himself like he is when the situation calls for it.

-Will not hesitate to get nose-to-nose with whoever is bothering you. If someone wants to invade your space, he’ll invade theirs. Fair is fair.

- “You really can’t take a fuckin’ hint, huh?” he’d shake his head.

- “What’s your problem?” the man’s voice would sound confident but the look in his eyes would show that he really didn't want a problem with whoever this guy was getting in his face.

- “You. Fuckin’ beat it,” he’d jerk his head towards the door, “Don’t come back, either.”

- Coco carries himself with the confidence of a man that will make someone pay dearly for coming back uninvited. Confrontational situations usually resolve themselves quickly. People tend to not want to mess with him if they can avoid it.

-When the guy inevitably leaves not just you, but the clubhouse altogether, Coco finally turns back to you, “You good, ma?”

- You nod, watching him light up a cigarette, “Uh, yea. I’m good. Thanks for that.”

- He nods, blowing out a puff of smoke, “We’ll make sure that fucker never comes back.”

Hank:

- The only thing that Hank Loza drinks is Respect Women Juice. When he runs across someone that doesn’t, it gets out of hand really quickly.

-Bull in a china shop.

- The same man who is usually calm and cool and collected, physically removes whoever it is that is causing a problem. The guys have tried to teach him deescalation skills but it never sticks. It’s the only thing that Hank gets heated about so they all let it go at this point.

- Hank isn’t a small dude. When he steps toe-to-toe with someone he almost always out-sizes them. They get about 5 seconds to hear what he says and leave on their own before he removes them on his own.

- “You should leave her alone,” the friendly suggestion is really anything but.

- The guys are almost always cocky, not thinking that anything is actually going to happen to them, “Or what, tough guy?”

- They ignored their first and only warning. What happens next is all on them. Hank grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the ground. His voice is quiet, which is way more terrifying than yelling, “Let’s find out.”

- Hank lifts and carries the guy out, on the brink of dragging him like a caveman. The guy is yelling in protest, trying to swing, but Hank is unfazed.

- He throws the guy down the steps of the clubhouse, giving a final warning not to come back. No longer in an agumentative mood, the man takes off in a desperate attempt to avoid getting further tossed around.

- When he goes back into the clubhouse, the rest of the guys have moved on from the situaiton--to them it was business as usual for Hank. You, on the other hand, didn't see the situation unfolding that way at all. He walked back up to you, the anger gone from his face, a gentle smile there instead.

- “Are you alright?” he looks you over as if to make sure you didn't get hurt in the midst of it all.

- “Yea,” you nod, “I’m...I’m fine. Thanks. You...you didn’t have to do all that.”

- He’d chuckle, knowing that for him it was the only course of action, “Of course I did,” he’d gently rest his hand on the outside of your arm, “Let me know if anyone else gives you any trouble.”

Creeper:

- The smaller version of Hank, tbh. Constantly out here Respecting Women.

- Remember that scene where he catches a shotgun that’s tossed to him and immediately starts shooting on the highway?? That’s the energy he has when dealing with men who disrespect women.

- Cannot easily lift and remove men the same way Hank does, but he will throw hands without hesitation.

- The guys told him no more threatening with guns in the clubhouse. So fists will have to suffice.

- Does not offer a warning to the guy. If someone is being pushy or rude, they don’t deserve a heads-up. He will try to get your attention in some way first, to make sure that you want him to intervene. If he thinks that it’s going to get out of hand, or if you let him know with a pleading look that you could use the assist, he is instantly throwing himself into the middle of it.

- He’d catch your eye, motioning back and forth between you and the man in front of you to ask if you need an out. You’d give him a slight nod and that’s all it would take.

- Walking up, he grabs the guy by his shoulder and turns him around, “Hey, motherfucker,” he’d shove him towards the door of the clubhouse, “Leave.”

- Caught off-guard, the man would shove him back. Fully-bruised ego shining through, “Keep your hands off me.”

- That’s when you’d hear the first crack of a fist colliding with someone’s jaw. Your eyes would go wide, not ever having seen Creeper get like this. His focus would be completely on the man stumbling towards the ground in front of him, “I said get the fuck out.”

- It usually doesn’t take more than one punch to get his point across. HIs muscles aren’t just for show--getting clocked by him fucking hurts. They’re lucky that he’s not big on wearing rings.

- Once the threat is neutralized, he instantly shifts back into his quiet, gentler self to check in with you. He sees the surprise in your face at how things unfolded and he holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m done, promise.”

- It’d get you to laugh. You can see it in his expression that it’s almost like a switch he can flip on and off. “Um. Thank you. That...isn’t what I was expecting. But thank you.”

- “Are you alright?” he’d sit down next to you, mindful to give you some space.

- “Yea, I’m good. How’s your hand?”

- He’d chuckle, “All good. Nothing new.”

Okay this was a lot of fun. I love all these dorks. Hope you enjoyed! xo

[bakedcrispers]

Show Me How To Love You

seasons 6-7

warnings: implied smut, slight angst, big crossbow man hormones 😔✌

[ gif's not mine! ]

--

Gray smoke danced around the porch of the house as Daryl sat idle on its oak stairs, his eyes snaking aimlessly around the streets as he spiraled deep in his thoughts. He remembers every bit of detail that happened, and he couldn't seem to keep his mind out of it.

It just kept coming back.

His hands travel feverishly along warming glistening flesh, tender skin sliding smoothly among his palms and lips as he took his time in exploring a pulchritudinous figure. His head was fogged and hazed, completely under the spell of the melodic sounds bouncing through the thin walls of the room. He felt full. The buzzing of his chest drummed and pounded throughout his torso the more he bit, leaving purple marks along those lips he adored so damn much.

His mouth dragged and dragged, exhaling through the unforgiving breeze as he tried desperately hard not to shift around his spot. He could feel his body slacking the more he stared, the tiredness gradually getting to him as he sat. God, he was so worn out; yet at the same time, he didn't have the courage to go back in there, lay down, and dream about it again.

He'd go crazy.

Nails scratched his back roughly, piercing up and down at a constant painful pace. He scrutinized every move and bounce, traveling down the deliciously pinned body underneath his figure as he treated you as gently as he could. Hair sprawled, face wet, lips apart and heaving; your euphoria was greatly highlighted under the hues of the moon, and all he could do was gawk at it. Daryl couldn't help but admire it.

"Goddamnit." He could feel his cheeks heating up at the thought, and he couldn't seem to rid it of his brain. It had been preserved exclusively to torment him out his mind later on, and he fucking hates it. "Stupid attractive nurse and her stupid fuckin' smile." Daryl grumbles in vexation, but a part of him knew he didn't exactly mind it - he didn't mind the thought of you being implanted permanently inside his restless brain, residing in his mind rent-free.

Feelings have never been so hard to control.

"Can't sleep?" The tender timbre of your voice abruptly wakes him up from the intrusive images in his head, and almost instantly he sat up straight, his drowsiness disappearing altogether; though, your presence provided not an ounce of aid to his ever-lingering issues.

"I'm a'ight." Daryl grunts his usual reply, avoiding any type of eye-contact towards you. It took everything of his strength not to twist his body to face you fully, nor even look at your face right now. He just couldn't bring himself to talk to you when all he could think of was.. those nights.

And much to his fucking luck, you shuffled your way to him, making yourself comfy on the empty space beside him. "You always say that when you aren't." You snarked, a knowing grin illuminated on your face, staring at him for a little longer than he anticipated as you talked. You already had him read.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Daryl found himself snorting quietly at your little quip, his dark tresses swaying along as he shook his head in disbelief. He wouldn't trade his thoughts even for a goddamn gold bar. He'd rather die than to expose the explicitness of his head out to you, of all people.

"You can keep yer goddamn penny, I ain't thinkin' o' nothin', sunshine." He didn't mean to snap, but the way his head felt a sudden haziness definitely contributed something to his sudden outburst.

Nonetheless, you didn't budge; instead, you pressed on with much vigor, a light expression on your face as you did so. "Are you thinking of a person?" Your eyes soften, and Daryl didn’t know whether to relax his shoulder at the sight of your face or tense them at your question. 

You wistfully continued, "Like.. you think of them so much that it just starts to be a real problem?"

Exactly his fucking problem.

"Nah. I ain't' ever think of people like tha'." He answers almost too quickly, the lie slipping down a little too smoothly to his absolute horror. Daryl, however, was completely aware of what he was experiencing — completely present on his stupid issues, and he hated that you somehow wriggled your way to be the main root of all his dilemmas. Even so, Daryl was curious.

"Who're ya thinkin' about?" He diverts the topic towards you, trying not to let his discomfort fly into view, even though it’s probably already so obvious.

You chuckle, eyes crinkling at him. "I didn't say I was thinking about someone, Daryl." You lightheartedly taunted, and he fought back the heat that rushed up to his face, caught up with words as he struggled to gather a reply. You got him tongue-tied: again. Before he could retort his defense, you were quick to cut him off, placing a hand on his thigh with a playful shake of your head.

"I was just kidding, Daryl. I was thinking about someone." The soft grin on your lips encourages Daryl to relax beside you, but his heart continues to hammer in harsh beats, surely causing a tinge of pain throughout his chest.

It sure did.

All he could do was vocalize a grunt, wanting you to continue without explicitly voicing his words out of his throat. He felt embarrassed to ask, feeling like he was being pushy about the topic — intruding, even; but fortunately for him, you follow right after, as casual as you were.

"Been thinking about this amazing guy recently."

Daryl's brows unknowingly furrowed, a swirl of discomfort residing inside his stomach. "A guy?"

"Yeah? What? I can't dream of love?" You joke with a face full of blithe, shining almost as bright as the goddamn stars in his perspective.

He snorts a reply, "Nah, ain't sayin' that." The archer then sheepishly shrugged. "Just - just didn't think you'd get worried 'bout som'n like that, 'is'all." He finishes gently, catching your eye for a second before looking back down on the ground, lips pursed and his fingers laced together.

"Really?" You raised your brow at him in an amused manner, another chuckle bubbling out of you as you playfully jabbed his side with your elbow. "Would've never thought you'd take me as a responsible and sensible type, Dixon."

He could only roll his eyes, but his lips quirked up to a tiny grin, his baby blues shining in mirth as your energy radiated even under the cold of the night. "Never said that either."

"But you hinted at it." You sang with a grin, childishly wiggling your brows at him as you swing your legs back and forth. “Ya’ big softie.“

How could he even resist the urge to fucking smile?

You were just so infectious to Daryl, and everything about you was amazing to him — a huge enigma that he wants to explore all over and over again. He’d never get tired of you; he could never.

Sure, there was a part of Daryl that screamed, cursed, and tore apart whoever this guy was that you were dazed over in the jealous corners of his mind, but he refrained himself from doing any physical reaction; for the sake of his dignity and sanity, especially when he’s in front of you.

"Wanna talk about it?" Daryl broke his silence with a quiet exhale, releasing more of the smoke to color the air around him, without much of a care in the world.

You didn't spare him a glance and continued to stare straight ahead, your lips twisting up to a content smile. The archer rose a brow, trying to figure you out, but nothing in his mind was deemed helpful to scan your thoughts; all of them ending up to be a loud meaningless static, one that he couldn't quite figure out yet.

"Ya' deaf or som'n?" He grumbles, impatient, and nervous. It took Daryl some self-control not to practically bite his nails off his hands while you just beamed at him like some damn gorgeous nymph. He felt vulnerable, and he didn't know how to feel about it. He certainly felt attacked though. 

"Not deaf, silly. I’m just surprised you don't know him yet." You finally say, your eyes glowing in mischief as you laughed. "I thought it was pretty obvious. I mean all those nights, those talks, those.." You trailed off, and Daryl almost regretted catching sight of the look that you just gave him, breath stuck in his throat as he watched your tongue swipe across your bottom lip. 

Daryl shivered as he could feel your eyes dangle from his lips down to his exposed neck, drinking every change of pigment along his skin, where all your points were made and proudly done. He could tell by the look on your face that you were seething with pride; but at the same time, you were looking at him so lovingly. Daryl didn’t know what to do, sweating and freezing under your deep scrutiny. “Those… wha’?“ He gulps the courage to return your gaze, almost immediately feeling his throat grow even drier with each second he stared at your adoring hues that maintained strong contact with his.

You huff at him, brows furrowed but your lips were quirked up. “Playing dumb, huh?“ You whistled, gently bumping your shoulders against his, electricity coursing through him as your bare skin clashed with his cold ones. “From how frozen you are right now, I’m guessing you don’t really want me to dive deep into it?“

"It’s a mistake, Y/N.“ Daryl finally takes the courage to speak up, face beet red as he looks at anything but your face. “We didn’t know the hell we’re doin’.” He grumbled, his voice drenched with every ounce of regret and shame he could ever carry from that night alone. He just didn’t think it felt right to him. Those nights were only used to pour those unwanted feelings and emotions out, Daryl thought, It didn’t mean shit.

It shouldn’t.

With shoulders slacked, the archer completely isolates himself away from you in an attempt of just shutting down from the conversation altogether. He never even thought of talking about it with you, thinking you’d just pass over him and forget about it over time; that you’d just drown out his existence after you were done using him as some fucking stress outlet.

Not that he had complaints in the first place.

“It wasn’t a mistake, Daryl.“ You murmured sincerely, your eyes maintaining that soft, adoring look that you’ve reserved for him since the beginning. “At least for me it wasn’t.“ You follow with a wholehearted grin that immediately sent his heart beating and hammering against his searing chest. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me.“

“Ya’ don’ know what yer talkin’ ‘bout, sunshine.“ Daryl scoffed, perilous eyes snapping at you with a mix of disbelief and distrust. “Yer delirious.“ He didn’t want to believe it; he refused to. You deserved more than just some filthy, asshole of a feral redneck in your life. You deserved men like Rick;

A part of him wanted to believe you — to tell you what he really felt, but as always:

He doesn’t know how.

Slightly shaking the hair out of his face, he continues in defeat, "Look, ya’ deserve someone better, Y/N.“ His words were filled with nothing but bitterness, but he knew it was true. “I ain’ tha’ someone, an’—“ He pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before fixating his eyes down the ground under him. “I ain’ any better.“

Daryl took a long drag of his smoke before standing up, not entirely wanting to be in this conversation anymore. He didn't want to hear you spew out any more words that would just draw him back in; make him believe that he'd ever had that honor to just call you his for the rest of his life. "You should get some rest, Y/N." He spoke softly, hating to have to shut you down so quickly, but it was for the best. Daryl couldn't bring himself to be with you after all he's been through.

"What's stopping you?"

He doesn't deserve you.

Your words were left hanging around an air of tension, the archer completely still on his track as your soft tone struck him like a rain of bricks. He nervously chewed on his lips, fighting the urge to just blurt everything out to you in one go — to tell you everything racing in his damn head.

"Stopping.. what..?" His voice was quiet and unsure, almost as if he was scared to hear what you were about to say next.

More silence came from your part, and Daryl could hear his heart moving wilder and wilder the more you remained unresponsive to his reply. Nothing but your quiet shuffles rustling through the crisp air of the night was to be heard while Daryl tries to distract himself by fiddling with the tips of his gnawed out fingers. He knew he wanted to settle back with you — be close to you even, but his brain was holding him back from even trying to; afraid that he'd end up as nothing more but a piece of meat.

You were better than that, and he knows, but a tiny part of him was doubtful of your future, and he had every right to be. With winter coming along and scarcity of resources following painfully behind, there were many more things to be worried about than his stupid high school feelings.

"What's stopping you from loving me?"

Daryl pursed his lips into a thin line. This was something that you've also asked him the night before, your bare body pressed against his chest while you snuggled under the late sky. He could barely get any word out to give you a proper answer. But even during times like those, Daryl could never tear his eyes off of you. You were drowsy, tired from the night’s activities, but you never seem to get restless of his scattered thoughts and feelings; you always tried your best to understand and communicate with him, but as always, Daryl remained nonchalant — almost as if he couldn't hear you amongst everything.

He was being unfair.

Eyes squeezed shut, knuckles white, jaws clenched — He's gotta drop and let you know.

"I.. I don' know how to love ya', Y/N." He confessed softly; ashamed that he couldn't give you the love that he wanted you to have — love that only people who weren't broken can give. "I.. I don' know how to love ya' like.. like how Glenn or Rick does." He croaks weakly. "They do it so easy, but I just fuckin'.. can't."

His frustration was evident, yet his head was facing the ground, not wanting to have you catch the longing and bitter look that he had on his stormy blue eyes.

"Daryl." His eyes slowly snaps towards the direction of your voice, lips trembling slightly as your cold palms brushed and settled on his reddened cheeks.

"I didn't follow you everywhere with the hopes of finding the same love that men like Rick or Glenn can give in you. I didn't go out of my way to be your run partner just to seduce you and jump on your lap. I'm with you because you make me happy, and you make me feel loved in the warmest way possible."

He watched your lips effortlessly mouth the words out to him as if you were reciting a ballad specially made only for his ears to reach.

"You don't have to show me or the others that you love me, Dixon, because I already know that you do." Your hold on his face tightens, and so did Daryl's heart as he watched you send a loving smile up at him. "You don't have to hide from me, Daryl. You don't have to be scared about not being able to compete with others because no matter what, you're the only damn thing I see."

It may take some time, but your words truly have impacted him more than he anticipated. There were moments where he'd thoroughly savor and indulge himself on your touch and with your words, letting himself loose within the security of your arms; this was one of those times.

"Damn it, sunshine." He curses quietly, breathless over how something as enchanting as you could ever be real — how even did he manage to capture you in his life?

He builds the courage to meet you in the eye, his heart singing at the sight of your eyes holding adoration only for him. "Hitting me with the cheesy shit again, huh."

Your grin widens, prompting his own smile to stretch along with yours. "Want to know how to love, Dixon?"

Even when his surroundings dim, you continue being a light above all things cynical in his life. You were his guide; an angel sent to him by whatever fate exist in the world. You were surreal, and if he could wish for more of you, he would do so in a heartbeat.

"Show me."

You're the only thing he sees.

--

a/n: OMG?? HI?? ITS BEEN A WHILE?MNDJEJE IM SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY! schoolwork has been catching up and i have also been sick for the past few days! have this lil oneshot friends 💞💖 all you'll ever see in this blog is longing and yearning so kekeke prepare urself >:D

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[toasty-bat]

Ok this was going on too long to be put in replies so here we are. Tramp Stamp, the "pop rock" "band".

Okay so. The members. Marissa Maino, has released a few EPs in the past, as has the guitarist Caroline Baker. The drummer, Paige Blue, is a songwriter with a couple of published songs.

However, for each member their former music and style was COMPLETELY different to how they make music now. Sure, styles can change, but this much this quickly? They each apparently spontaneously dyed their hair similarly neon colours at around the same time, before even forming the band.

Their music is also weird. It's like Blink-182 of it was modernized and then diluted down to buzzwords only. It's also clearly supposed to be the sort of "riot girl feminist" stuff seen in pop punk in the early 2000s - except again, it's diluted and "off". Their lyrics all sound like something specifically crafted to appeal to Tumblr users and young people on TikTok, and it seems to bank on the idea that because the target is young, they won't really remember late-90s to early-2000s pop rock and so won't know why they sound "off".

The band has barely started existing, but despite having no sold songs or EPs or albums under their belt, they already have stan accounts, a well-established website, and well-designed merchandise at high prices. Not something a brand new normal band does.

They're VERY defensive whenever they're criticized for anything. Recently they were called out for stealing their name from another band, @/thetrampstamps-blog (these guys are real), to which they responded "we don't like white cis men!!". It was quickly pointed out that every member of their ""band"" is cis, and white.

Everything about them seems manufactured. Their brand-new instagram is full of clearly professionally taken shots in studio lighting with full professional makeup and hair (not necessarily weird for a band....unless that band was created less than a month ago and hasn't even released a debut EP yet). They regularly use outdated slang and act like when old people write teenage characters - for example, one of their TikTok songs contains lines like "Tumblr girl, sk8ter boy", "I'd rather die than hook up with a straight white guy" (????) and "it's some major fuckin tea".

Their lyrics and captions may sound plausible when they're separate, but when it's all put together it reads like an AI-generated Buzzfeed article about current youth trends.

Their website claims their music is "the kind of stuff women talk about with their friends, but no one has ever put it into this kind of music before" (this is apparently a quote from one of the band members.) I'm sorry, nobody has ever done this before? Doesn't your band claim to take direct influence from early-2000s feminist punk scenes?? Have you ever listened to a feminist punk band before, ms "definitely in a feminist punk band"???

As for the "we hate straight white men" stuff, one of the members is openly married to a straight white guy. Not saying you can't be married and also be a feminist pop punk icon, but..their entire thing is that they're "a brilliant voice on white-boy privilege and fragile masculinity". (That's supposedly another quote from one of the band members. Definitely a real human person thing to say).

The band claims to be emo as well, but couldn't recognize MCR music when asked to name MCRs most popular songs. Not that it's impossible, but how likely is it that an emo/pop-punk band taking influence from the 2000s and early 2010s doesn't know what MCR is???

(TW: Sexual assault, alcohol for this bit)

One of their songs describes raping a man by getting him drunk and pressuring him into sex. Whether this is industry-plant related or not, this clearly isn't some "voice for the youth" shit that anyone Gen Z is interested in.

The irony is that they're also connected to Dr. Luke, a cishet white male who owns their publishing house... and who has multiple SA accusations against women (notably Kesha)

(TW over)

Also, they claim to be Queer Punk, but 2 of them are openly cishet. Now, I don't believe you should pressure public figures into coming out, but I can say as someone who enjoys the queer punk scene, I've never seen a Queer Pop Punk band made up of 2/3 cishet people.

On one of Marissa (the singer's) tumblr accounts before it was deactivated, the DNI said "-Phobic against any sexuality, including straight!"

(...what about the whole "we hate straight men and we're queer punk"... thing...)

Tldr: Everything from their social media presence to the way they dress to their song lyrics/style sounds like something old people in suits would imagine appeals to the young generation. They specifically targeted punk and queer spaces and appear to exploit them, and in response to criticism they either explode at whoever is criticizing them, or they delete accounts and immediately recreate new ones.

At first it seems plausible that they're just weird, but the further down the rabbit hole you go, the less and less real it all is. It reaches a point where you see them post and it feels like you're watching an AI that was fed information on Gen Z and is randomly generating content based on that information.

(don't judge me I fell down the rabbit hole HARD ok lmao)

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Nine

Words: 4.1k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, explicit sexual situations, substance abuse, mentions of assault

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I hum along to the Christmas music softly playing over the speakers of the grocery store as I walk down the aisles, pushing my buggy, looking at the different types of cereal. 

Nikki doesn't like sweet cereals aside from Captain Crunch, so I just grab a box of it before heading to grab toilet paper and paper towels, along with some eggs, and head to the checkout line, my attention stalling on a tabloid on display. 

"Nikki Sixx & Vanity: Their 'Friendship' Timeline," it reads, a picture of Vanity and Nikki plastered on the front...I exhale sharply.

I can't believe it's been four months since Vanity aired out their dirty laundry on TV. 

That means Duff and I have been together for three and a half months...

I'm quickly backing up and walking to the sexual health section, examining the many brands of pregnancy tests. 

I grab the cheapest and go back to the line. 

"I told them not to put those out," my cashier states to me when it's my turn, as she sees me give another glance to the magazine with my husband and his mistress on the front.

When she gets to the pregnancy test, she clears her throat. 

"Celebratory or...?" She asks, swiping the test. 

I pretend I don't hear her. 

I shut my trunk, my arms wrapped around grocery bags as I step to the front door, of the house, the sun setting through the neighborhood, and I sigh heavily as I grab my key. 

I haven't been home in a couple days, avoiding Nikki as much as I can, but I know we need groceries in the house and I know he hasn't left to get any, and even though I'm done with him, I don't want him to starve or something. 

Opening the front door, the house is a wreck just from a glance, and I quietly shut the door in case he's asleep, and head to the kitchen.

I quickly stop in my tracks when I see through the dim light, coming from the single lamp in the foyer, figures moving in the living room, a light littering of giggles flittering through the air…

I turn the lights on, nearly dropping the groceries to see eight girls in lingerie, girls at least in their late teens, piled on Nikki—and Steven—lips swollen from making out with each other and euphoric glows casting over all of them. 

I'm at a loss for words. 

Nikki and Steven just look at me, Steven looking like a guilty kid. 

"Is that your wife?" One of the girls straddling Nikki asks, looking at me, wide eyed. 

"Ex-wife." I correct her. 

This is where the story tends to get misconstrued. If you ask Nikki or Steven what happened, they'll tell you it went down like this…

"Vivian put the fuckin' gun down!" Nikki yells at me as I hold his shotgun, the girls screaming and scattering like roaches while he and Steven run to the backyard as I pump a bullet into the chamber and fire off, missing them by a couple inches as our wall by the back door is blown to hell, chasing after them and emptying the gun in our backyard whilst trying to shoot them. 

What actually happened…

"Get out of my house." I tell the girls harshly and they look at me, pissy. 

"If I want them here, they can be here." Nikki argues. 

"They're babies, Nikki!" I shout, and the girls all defensively simultaneously let out their ages, ranging between 18 to 20, but I honestly don't see how some of them are over 17. "Then let me see your ID." I tell them. 

"We came to hook up, we didn't come to get interrogated." One of them states. 

"Okay, well, you've had your fifteen minutes with Nikki Sixx so you can get out of my house." I repeat.

"Fuck off!" She exclaims to me and I raise my brows. 

Fuck it. 

I go to our bedroom and grab what I need, and I don't give anybody a warning before firing off shotgun shrapnel into our glass ceiling, shards of mirror raining down as I hear the girls holler and cry out in fear, scampering to the door in their heels, and once the gun is unloaded, I look in the living room and see fluffy black and blonde hair peek up from behind the couch, their eyes bugging, pupils taking up most of their eye.

When the cops showed up, I said I accidentally fired into the ceiling while trying to clean the gun. They were fans of Nikki so they didn't give us a fine for public disturbance, and they didn't ask why eight girls were in our lawn in lingerie, either.

"I cannot believe you." I grit through my teeth when Steven blocks my entrance into their rehearsal studio, his heavy panting clouding the words trying to come from his mouth. "Did you run here?!" I exclaim and he nods, still trying to catch his breath, still trying to get his apology out that I can't even hear because he's talking but not saying a word due to his breathing. "Moron." I hiss, shoving him out of my way to get inside. 

"Viv, wait!" He musters out, following me. 

"Fuck you!" I shout. 

"Vivian, please, let me—" he gasps for breath some more. 

"—I hope you're having an asthma attack or something, I really do, dumbass, I really do." I march away from him and he grabs my wrist, a pathetic look on his face. 

"Look—"

"—No, you 'look,' I refuse to be the little bitch that just lays on her back and let's everybody fuck her to hell with their bullshit. It's gross and it's disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself for even being apart of it, Steven, because I thought you wouldn't do that shit to me. Just 'haha it's so hot to do stupid shit that'll hurt Vivian,'" I mock his voice, and he tries to talk again, "No, just shut up and go suck on Nikki's balls some more because I don't think those teenage girls did it enough!" I turn on my heel go to find the guys. 

"You're not mad about their age, you're mad Nikki didn't give a fuck." He gets out, taking deep breaths and I stop and turn to look at him, rolling my jaw. "You're jealous, and you know you are, and it's okay and normal to be, Viv, I know you still—"

"—Know I still what, Steven? Hmm? Love him?" I furrow my brows, stepping to him, my heels clicking on the floor when I get face to face to him, our nose nearly touching, my voice shaking with anger as I say, "He could die tomorrow and I wouldn't give a single fuck because he's been dead to me for months. And as of right now, you are to. So don't come at with me trying to strike up some empathy for a person I feel absolutely apathetic about." I sneer quietly, turning. "And stay away from teenagers. I don't care if they're eighteen or nineteen, they're still fucking kids."

I grind my teeth together as I leave him standing in the hallway before I try to go into the girls bathroom, only for it to be locked. 

"Damn it." I mumble, holding back tears, glancing at the door of the boys bathroom. 

Without shit given, I open the door and walk in, seeing Izzy standing over the toilet, cigarette in his mouth, peeing. 

He glances over his shoulder and looks at me. 

"Viv." He says the best he can, smoke puffing past his lips. 

"Izzy." I reply, sitting my purse on the sink, digging through it. "Sorry, the girls bathroom was taken." I mumble. 

"No problem." He replies. "Not like you haven't seen it before." He adds and I roll my eyes. 

"Unfortunately." I sigh out, grabbing the box with the pregnancy test in it. "Hurry up, please." 

He looks at me to say something smart back, but looks at the box and his face falls. 

"Jesus fuck, Viv, what do you have that for?" He asks me. 

"Okay, I know you went to high school in Indiana and their version of Sex Education was just ways to stick your dick in a pickup truck's tail pipe without getting carbon monoxide poisoning, but when a man and woman have sex, they have a risk of procreation." I tell him. 

"With Duff? " He asks me with a confused face. 

"No, I got Bret Michaels and Willie Nelson to cum in a cup and I mixed it together and went from there." I sarcastically hiss.

"Fuck you, smart ass, I was asking a legitimate question." He zips his pants back up and steps aside for me. 

"Yes, with Duff. I haven't had sex with Nikki in months." I tell him. 

"Sorry, I didn't know if you were doing them both or what." He shrugs and I glare at him. 

"No. I'm not." I inform him, pulling my dress up and my panties down. 

"Okay, that's my cue." He says, turning away from me, in reference to my naked bottom half. 

"Not like you haven't seen it before." I repeat what he said earlier and he chuckles, going to open the door. "You're leaving?" I ask him, quickly, and he looks at me.

"Yeah?"

"I need support." I tell him, honestly sounding scared and he leans his head back and rubs his eyes. 

"Vivian, babe, I can just go get Duff—"

"—No, no, he doesn't need to know I even think I'm pregnant." I state, panicked. "Look, it'll take a few minutes but I can't wait for the result by myself, it'll drive me up the wall." I plead with him. 

"Well, what if you are pregnant, are you gonna tell him, then?" 

"I-I don't know." I admit. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there just, please, stay in here with me."

He lets out a heavy breath before nodding, rubbing his forehead. 

"Alright, alright. Just piss on the stick because I'm missing rehearsal for this." 

It was an agonizing wait, but once Izzy glanced at his watch and said, "alright, it's been long enough," I felt like it had only been a few seconds. 

"Maybe we should a wait a little bit more." I suggest.

"Viv, it's been ten minutes. You already put it off once before, come on, now. Cowgirl up." He tells me. 

"Okay." I breathe out, anxious, rubbing my lips together and shakily reaching for the test before quickly snatching away. "I can't do it." I say to him, shaking my head. "You look at it and tell me." 

"Vivian—"

"—Please?" I beg, giving him my best puppy dog eyes and he lets out a breath and reaches for the test, looking at it, nodding a little. 

"Well, Stripey, we're at the bridge, how're you gonna cross it?" He asks me, handing me the test, and I see a perfectly shaped "+" on it. 

I started to panic, and think irrationally, as I do when I'm backed into a corner. So in my panicked state, the best thing I saw for me to do, was...

"You are fucking insane." He tells me sharply, leaning against the sink. "Like evil insane." 

"Izzy, I don't know what else to do aside from just get rid of it or hope and pray I miscarry, and that's kinda fucked." I explain, holding back tears. 

"You want to fuck Nikki and just play it off as his—that's more fucked up than praying the damn thing away!" He whipser yells. "And what about Duff? What the hell happens to him when you pull that shit?" 

"I don't know, Izzy, alright? But he doesn't need a kid to worry about when he's just starting to get a taste of what he's wanted for years, now, and I don't want to—"

"—He's going to be fucked up with the idea of you still screwing Nikki when he's under the impression that you two are gonna be this magical little fairytale of unicorns and sparkles and love and shit, Vivian!" 

"I know, but I don't know what else to do!" I reply in the same tone. 

"Oh, my God." Izzy exhales smoke from his fresh cigarette. "You can't tell me this shit. You shouldn't have even let me know about this because now I'm a fucking accomplice to your batshit crazy scheme." He scolds me. 

"Izzy—"

"—You are the fucking devil, Vivian. Axl was right. You are the actual devil." 

"Well, you tell me what to do, Izzy, because that's the only thing I can come up with!" 

"Why does it matter if the child is Nikki's or not, you two are getting divorced anyway, so why does it matter if it's somebody else's?" He questions, and I stay quiet. "You are filing for divorce, right?" 

More silence. 

"Oh. My. God."

"Izz—"

"—Will you quit incriminating me with you when you do stupid shit?!" He lets out, slightly panicking. "Now im gonna be fucked sideways if they find out I knew and never said anythi--why the fuck were you even screwing Duff if you weren't a thousand percent sure you were gonna leave Nikki?!" 

"Because I thought I was but no—"

"—Izz, you alright?!" 

"Duff." Izzy  mouths to me. "Shhhit." 

"Answer him." I mouth back. 

"Yeah, man, I'm good...just really, um, fucked on that pizza from earlier!" He lies as I shove the pregnancy test box back in my purse along with the test, and zip it up. 

"Okay, dude, just making sure!" Duff replies, the sound of him walking away letting us know the coast is clear. 

Just to make sure Izzy sticks his head out of the door, and glances at me. 

"Go," he motions and I do. "Last door on the left of that hall." He adds and I go in that direction, opening the door and seeing Axl, Duff, Slash and even Steven has joined them. 

"Hey," Duff's face lights up when he sees me, and be puts his bass down as I walk to him. 

He wraps an arm around my waist and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. 

"Hi," I smile when he pulls away, looking into his eyes, while I can see Izzy staring at me from the corner of my eye, taking a drink from his cup with this look on his face like I've just killed his best friend. 

I honestly might if I'm not careful. 

Once their rehearsal is over, it's around 5:00pm, and my stomach is killing me. 

"Can we get food?" I ask him, my hand in his as we step to the parkinglot. 

"No, I'm just gonna let you starve." He sarcastically lets out and I cut my eyes up at him. "Where do you wanna eat?" He asks next, letting my hand go so he can grab his pack of Marlboros and settle one between his lips, lighting it, before grabbing my hand again. 

"I don't know." I shrug. 

"I thought you said you're hungry." He says next. 

"I am—that doesn't mean I know what I want to eat." I add and he just looks at me. 

"Do you want a burger?" He suggests and I wrinkle my nose. "Okay...chicken?" Again, I don't look pleased. "Dennys?"

"That's fine with me." I nod. 

"Thank God." He sighs. "My car or yours?" He asks next. 

"Doesn't matter." I tell him. 

"Alright, we'll take mine." He says, stepping to the passenger side, opening the door for me without a second thought. 

"Aww," Slash says as he comes out of the building, teasing Duff from behind his shades and his own cigarette. 

Duff just smiles and flips him off, walking to the driver's side. 

"I'll see you later tonight, man!" Slash calls. 

"Alright!" Duff says back, shutting the door, fumbling for his keys to put them into the ignition. 

"You guys are going out tonight?" I ask him as he cranks the car. 

"Yeah, you can come." He offers and I shake my head a little. 

"Um, I was actually gonna go visit with Sharise and Skylar for a few hours, tonight." I tell him. 

(Pt. 79 CONT.)

[princebugs]

A meeting with Niles.

Quivering digits rub and scratch at the back of his own neck, goosebumps rising as his eyes shift from corner to corner. He swallows, the nervous lump in his throat dissipating for only mere moments before quickly arising once more. His movements remain shaky, and shifty. He feels nervosa creeping up his spine leisurely, causing his hyperactivity to skyrocket. Remaining still is no easy task.

The male can almost discern a feeling of eyes on the back of his brunette tresses, watching him from the shadowed corner of the room. Perhaps a figure is awaiting the perfect time to pounce on the human and rip his throat out, at a pace fast enough that he wouldn't scream--- no one would hear his death. He whips his head in that direction, his heart pounding against his chest.

Cue a sigh of relief.

It's just dust. It's just dust, Gavin. Can't hurt you. Maybe fuck with your allergies a bit, but it won't hurt you. You're probably just crazy, like your uncle Kevin--- he still lives in that shed, right? Still talking about those damned 'creatures of the night', hiding in there with a shotgun with hopes that he'll be the one to kill 'em.

Maybe you'll be like that soon, if these delusions go any farther.

A sound of a doorknob clicking interrupts his thoughts and causes the male to jump in his seat, right forearm raising in a defensive manner before realizing that it was only his new therapist, clad in a black turtleneck and black pants.

When did he get here?

Gavin briefly takes a glance down at himself, and is just a slight bit pissed at himself for not dressing nicer.

If this was anything but a therapy session where Gavin would have to speak openly about his mental problems, he would have dressed better. He didn't see the point of wearing something appealing when it was just therapy, and his therapist was most likely going to be some old man or young female that he didn't need to impress.

Sadly for him, the male was definitely not an old man. He looked, roughly, around Gavin's age--- yet he had the sort of timeless face that could pass for a nineteen-year-old. The turtleneck's sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. Gavin usually considers turtlenecks "phckin' ugly" but this guy has changed the definition for him.

And he was overwhelmingly pale. Did he never go outside?

Lesson learned. Wear cute clothes EVERYWHERE.

“Mr. Reed?“ A voice brings Gavin out of his train of thought, and he notices that the male is no longer standing, and is, in fact, sitting right in the position ahead of him, with his head tilted in slight concern as well as confusion.

Dammit.

“Shit, ah,“ Gavin struggles to push away his thoughts for the time being, his nails scratching at the back of his neck as he awkwardly laughs half-heartedly. “Yeah, yeah. That's me, alright.“

The therapist merely emits a soft chuckle, though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He doesn't know for sure, but he thinks that he's making a mental note of some sort--- probably from his behavior. This feels almost like a job interview, and that makes Gavin straighten out his back and lock eye-contact with the male across from him, his cerulean optics now gazing into steel hues. This, however, prompts another brief snicker from him.

“This isn't a professional setting, Mr. Reed. You can sit however you see fit; it is better that you feel comfortable while we converse with one another.“

Gavin's brows furrow together in exiguous uncertainty--- this man spoke like he was reading from a college art essay. Though he said it wasn't professional, it almost felt like it was; like Gavin was being judged for every single movement he followed through with.

It was almost as if he was being ordered to feel more comfortable, which is the most awkward thing ever. It puts on pressure, and makes the situation even more uncomfortable. Nonetheless, Gavin leans back, slouching a modest amount whilst placing his elbows on the back of the couch he sat upon. He stared ahead with half-lidded eyes, and his therapist was studying his body language the entire time.

Gavin would consider this creepy, but it's alright because it's his therapist.

“I'm Dr. Anderson, but you can just refer to me as Niles,“ His therapist--Niles-- begins, his nimble fingers picking up a set of reading glasses and placing them on his visage for a few moments to seemingly read Gavin's file, then setting both the glasses and the file down on the table in front of him. “How about you tell me why you set this urgent appointment with me, hm?“

His voice was smooth, like velvet draped across pale skin. It brought chills down Gavin's back. Compared to how coarse and rough Gavin's voice was, Niles' voice was soothing.

Calm down, dude. This isn't a therapy session for questioning your sexuality. Reply to his question, fucknut!

“Yeah, sure, sure. Uh, where do I fuckin' start?“ Again, Gavin laughs to release some tension, and when the room is silent, he coughs. And continues. “Hah, erm... well, I've been having these weird delusions and feelings of someone watching me. Paranoia, or whatever. I can't sleep, either.“

The concept of therapy wasn't really Gavin's thing; the idea of sharing all of his thoughts with another person was just plain idiotic, in his opinion. He'd much rather keep his feelings to himself, but since his mother called him out of the blue and informed him that she had scheduled an appointment with an "experienced therapist with good reviews" (which sounded shady as hell) because she was worried.

Truth is, he couldn't blame her for being worried. He had shut himself in his apartment, and wasn't even going to work the majority of the time. And when he did go to work, he only got sent home because he continuously kept falling asleep at his desk. Probably because he doesn't feel the eyes on him as he sleeps at work.

“Interesting,“ Niles bobbed his cranium in confirmation, his weight now leaning back as he crosses his arms over one another. He always seems like he is analyzing Gavin in some way.

Weird as fuck.

“So, perhaps you could be having some sort of stalker, or PTSD from something happening to you in the pa--“

“No, no. It's not like that.“

Niles seems suddenly interested and more inclined to listen, his head once again now tilted to the side in curiosity as his brows raise upwards. “Oh?“

Gavin gulped--- the aura that this guy gave off was intimidating as hell, and it was difficult to trust him. “Yeah, like... if it was something like that, then wouldn't I feel some sort of recognition kind of thing? Stalkers are usually people that the person knows personally or knew personally, and PTSD... don't think that's applicable to this situation. I don't think it's that.“

“Elaborate.“

“If it was PTSD, then it wouldn't feel so... so...“ He struggled to search and find the correct vocabulary, the right words-- it was on the tip of his tongue. His eyebrows knit together in comprehension, irises looking down at the couch as he--

“Real?“

Niles' tone is almost demanding in generality; it causes Gavin to shudder and almost cower in fear. Momentarily, he remembers how stern his father's voice was, how it terrified him to his core. Fear can make anyone curl in on themselves.

Gavin nods his head, his grey-blue hues now gazing out the large-sized window located directly to his left, watching as doves fly away. “Y-- yeah. Real. I've experienced PTSD before, and it's nothing like that, at least not this time. It's inhuman, almost. Like... like someone, some thing is going to pounce on me at any second. I don't feel safe in my apartment by myself. Hah, I even had a little moment in here before you got here--- thought something was in the corner.“

His therapist only stares, bobbing his head every now and then as a way to show that he was listening. Though, it didn't seem like it. It was as if he already knew everything that Gavin was saying. He identifies a sudden feeling of recognition--- one that chills Gavin to his very core.

“I, uh--- have I met you before?“ The detective leans forward now, setting his elbows on his knees. He can feel the shadows under his eyes growing deeper-- is that normal? How long had it been since he had slept? Gavin's calloused phalanges weave through his brunette locks, then gripping them tightly. “God, I must be going crazy. Of course, I haven't seen you anywhere--- what am I thinking? Turnin' into Uncle Kev-- I've been seein' shit that just isn't there. It's probably just sleep deprivation, and this therapy session won't do anything, I'm just wastin' my ti--“

“Here, walk with me outside,“ His incoherent rambling is cut short by Niles' request.

Gavin's pate raises upwards, catching sight of the therapist's outstretched palm, reaching for him. Motioning for Gavin to take his hand. His eyes lock with Niles.

“Wowza! Hand-holding? At least take me out to dinner first, eh?“ Gavin internally slaps himself. Meanwhile, Niles just rolls his eyes. Not in an annoyed way--- in an amused manner. Phew, Gavin didn't scare away his therapist.

“Come on, you said that being in here made you have a little 'fit' as well, right? Perhaps being out instead of holed inside your apartment will make you feel better, in some fashion?“

Gavin ponders about his next move, though it didn't seem much like a request at this point. Niles just seemed like he was politely ordering him to go outside. Reluctantly, he places his tan-colored hand in Niles' pale palm, letting his hand envelop over Gavin's and pull him up to his feet abruptly.

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

They meandered around the perimeter of the building for several moments, neither of them uttering a single word the duration of their walk. Gavin wasn't particularly skilled at breaking the ice when it came to long periods of silence similar to this; he would usually make it worse, actually. Saying something that would be so unexpected that it catches the recipient off-guard, or something that just makes the air between them extremely awkward all of the sudden.

Eventually, Gavin can't stand it anymore. He coughs to clear his throat up, his hand clenching into a fist for him to cough into for a few moments before scratching at the back of his neck again, and again.

“So, like, you have any family around this area, or are you new to Detroit?“

Greaaat question, Gavin. What if he has no family, and you just brought up shitty memories? GOOD GOIN', PRICK.

Niles hums. “I am relatively new here, but my brother lives here with me. You probably saw him whilst walking around the building, yes? Shorter than me, brown eyes?“

Gavin recalls seeing someone who fit that description. “Yeah, that's your brother?“

“Indeed, he is. He's... a little brat sometimes, prefers to do his own thing, but he's still family. We had to move rather abruptly due to some... sudden consequences of our actions, I suppose. Nothing for you to worry about.“

That bewildered Gavin, but he decided not to press further.

Luckily, Niles kept the conversation going. If the silence began once more, Gavin thought he could die.

“You mentioned an uncle earlier?“

Right, during his ramble.

“Yeah, hahah--- Uncle Kevin. He's like, the weird family member, y'know? The one who lives in a shed with a shotgun--- claiming that he'll prevent the apocalypse by killing the bloodsuckers, or something like that,“ Gavin laughs at this, yet Niles is silent.

“How peculiar. Bloodsuckers, you say?“ Niles inclines his head towards Gavin, his arms remaining behind his back as he walked. “What do you think of that?“

Gavin's face scrunches up, emitting a confused noise before sighing softly, remembering that this was a therapy session after all. “I dunno, man. Frankly, I think the idea of vampires existing is stupid as fuck, actually. Like, wasn't it just a myth, or fairytale? Or something like that. Nonetheless, it's hella dumb, and I don't believe in it one bit. If I ever saw a vampire in front of my face, I'd probably call it ugly and scream.“

Niles does laugh at this. “Be careful about what you say, Mr. Reed, you never know who, or what, might be listening.“

The way he said this caused shivers to go down Gavin's back. He sneered at Niles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and emitting a disgruntled huff. “Don't even joke about that shit, man. I mean, I may find it funny, but the way you say that shit just makes me feel hella uneasy.“

“What if I told you that you should be feeling uneasy right now, Gavin?“ Niles' tone is almost playful, like a cat playing with its prey before chomping down on it.

Gavin just emits a confused noise in return. “Huh?“ He should be feeling uneasy? Why is that such a... weird statement to make?

“I'm just messing with you-- a mere jest. Everyone feels uneasy with their new therapist; that's a sign that you're normal, Gavin.“

Exhaling a soft suspire of relief. “See, when you're all serious like that all the time, I can't even tell the difference between the real seriousness and the fake. That's what makes me feel uneasy.“

“That's how life really is, though. No one can distinguish reality from dream, but we believe that we can. How sure are you right now that you are in reality? At this exact moment, do you know if I am real, or a figment of your imagination?“ The taller male stops in his tracks, and Gavin struggles to stammer out his reply.

Gavin turns his head to Niles.

“I-- I'm totally freaked right now, dude. You're gettin' all... weird. How the fuck did we go from talkin' about vampires to--- this??“

“Gavin. Keep your windows unlocked at night, okay? It's extremely difficult for someone to break a window in a quiet manner. And it just becomes a hassle to clean up later on...“

What the fuck?

Gavin has no time to respond, Niles speeds up and just walks away with a mere wink and a smirk with relatively sharp canine teeth for a human. Remarkably, Niles had no shadow. Weird, weird, weird. Everything about Niles was weird and unexplainable.

Gavin is left on the pavement outside the building with no one around him, awkwardly standing there. He didn't know where to go. Should he follow Niles? No, no--- Gavin didn't want to be around him anymore.

He must look pathetic, wanting to run away and cry to his mother about what had just occurred--- but he'll do it nonetheless.

There was only one thing that Gavin knew from his first and last encounter with his therapist.

He's locking the windows.

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