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reddieaddict · 7 years ago

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You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me (Part 3/4)

Prequel to Richie’s Eulogy

Official Cast

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: This chapter is when we finally get to see Richie in all his hispanic glory! Haha I hope you all like how I characterized the Losers. I know it’s kinda different than how other people do, but I wanted to spice things up. Bill’s parents are nicer in my fic than in Canon, but I liked to imagine eventually they help and became nicer. Whatever though. I also added a lot more humor into this chapter. I fucking love doing dialogue and really hope you all find it funny. Enjoy.

Pairings: Reddie with a slutty side of Stenbrough and some implied Benverly

Summary: It’s senior year and Eddie has began to notice Richie exhibiting strange behavior. He is worried he might be hiding something, but doesn’t know how to confront Richie about it without setting him off and making matters worse.

December 1994

It was Christmas in Derry, Maine, and just as it’s been since the conception of the club, all seven losers found themselves in the Denbrough’s household, preparing for their annual holiday dinner. Eddie, Mike, Ben, and Bev’s parents preferred to celebrate Christmas Eve as a family, which, coincidentally (and conveniently), allowed the Losers to spend actual Christmas Day with each other. Stan was Jewish as fuck, so he could do whatever the hell he wanted on the Christmas; and Richie’s parents didn’t care what he did any other day of the year, so why would Christmas be any different? For some of the Losers, this was rather poetic; since their friends were more of a family to them than anything their parents could hope or care to be.

Despite having become accustomed to his parent’s active indifference, the holiday season was still an agonizingly difficult time for Richie. This was the time of year when the world seemingly would mock and torture him with imagery of happy families, as if to say “You see this? You will never have this!” Of course, this wasn’t really the case, but it sure felt like it was to Richie. Seeing all these families on TV, in advertisements, and even around town indulging in their pseudo-domestic bliss that came with the yuletide had Richie’s heart set ablaze with jealousy. “How can people be so happy? Why couldn’t he have that? Why did his parents have to be so awful?” These questions loomed over Richie, taunting him.

Unable to make the pessimistic voices in his head dissipate, he figured if he spoke louder and didn’t stop, he could drown them out enough to make the season tolerable. Unfortunately this made him especially intolerable to everyone, except the Losers. Richie has always liked to crack inappropriate jokes and be the center of attention, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Anything and everything out of his trashmouth was either a crass joke or an obscenity, making his nickname even more fitting. The Losers weren’t thrilled about this, but, being aware of his situation, had developed more patience for him throughout the years. This didn’t mean that there weren’t times when Richie crossed thresholds and sent them into a fury.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ASSHOLE!” Having Richie pestering him all day, had Eddie fed up. “I don’t care if there is a mistletoe under every fucking doorframe, I am not making out with you!”

“Baby, don’t be such a prude! Es Navidad! Dame un besito! Andale mi nino lindo! Presioso!” Eddie hated PDA and refused to kiss Richie outside of the privacy of their rooms, but it was their first Christmas as a couple and Richie wanted to make it special. So, he decided to bring out the big guns: talking in Spanish. Whenever Richie spoke in his native language, Eddie would melt and Richie could get him to do almost anything.

Eddie froze in place as fire spread across his cheeks, giving away just how effective his boyfriend’s tactic had been. “Umm. . . uh. . . ahem! NO! Stop it! I know what you’re doing and that is not going to work this time! I have to get back into the kitchen to help Mrs.Denbrough with dinner! You’ve already distracted me long enough!”

“Bebe, no seas asi! Amorsito! Nene!” Richie cooed as he wrapped himself around Eddie’s shoulders. “Solo un besito chiquito! Aaaandaleeee!”

“Fuck off.” Eddie pushed him away and began to make his way back into the kitchen. “If you keep annoying me, I won’t kiss you for the rest of the week.”

“Hijo de tu puta madre!” Richie mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest, and a child-like pout settling on his rosy lips.

“I KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING MEANS, DUMBASS!” Eddie retorted as he disappeared behind the kitchen door.

“Oh shit. . .” This is when Richie knew he fucked up.

“So, what happened? Did you get Eddie to kiss you or what?” Stan smirked as he continued to set the table. All of the Losers had been setting up for dinner, while Richie was on his quest for affection.

“Of course he didn’t! Why do you even bother asking, knowing how Eddie is?” Mike answered, beating Richie to the punch.

“Because then he has to admit to us that he didn’t, making his failure humiliating as well as disappointing.” Stan looked directly into Richie’s eyes with a condescending self-satisfaction.

“Wow! You’re evil. . . and I think it’s making fall in love with you all over again.” Bill placed a delicate kiss onto his boyfriend’s temple as he passed by him with a stack of plates in his hands. Through years of speech therapy his stutter had pretty much disappeared, except in the instances when he found himself inebriated.

Richie was none too pleased with getting ambushed by the people who he was starting to regret calling his friends. “Honestly, I don’t get what you’re being so smug about, Staniel. My Eddie is a classy lady with decorum, which more than I can say for you. Don’t think any of us have forgotten about catching you bobbing for Bill’s apple last Halloween!”

“CAN YOU NOT!?” Bev interjected, disgusted with the memory of Bill and Stan mid-blowjob being forced back into her mind. “How are any of SUPPOSED to forget about it if you keep bringing it up, Richie!?”

“Yeah, and my mom is in the next room, idiot!” Bill’s parents were aware and supportive of his son’s relationship, but that didn’t mean they were interested in knowing the details, especially such graphic ones.

“Buscame y me vas a encontrar! That means come for me and you shall find me, Big Bill. I wouldn’t have to put you on blast like that, if you kept your bitch in check.”

“RICHIE!” Ben was fed up with the conversation. He knew there was no real malice behind any of their words, but this was hardly appropriate banter for Christmas dinner with Bill parents. The Denbroughs knew the Losers had quite the potty mouths, but expected them to cut that shit out on Christmas. “Why don’t you help us finish setting up the table, instead of arguing? Dinner is ready and we need to have everything set up, before Eddie and Mrs.Denbrough bring in the serving dishes!”

“Yeah, I think that is a good idea. God knows the last thing I want to think about during dinner is blowjobs.” Mike was by no means a prude, but was not eager to picture his friends getting it on, either.

“Agreed.” Bev stated as she finished placing the utensils on the table.

They finished setting up and took their seats just as Eddie entered the dinning room with the first platter. He placed it in the open space at the center of the table and took his seat beside his boyfriend. “Hola, mi amor!” he said completely butchering the usually romantic Spanish language, with the thickest accent anyone had ever heard, but Richie didn’t care. The sentiment was sweet nonetheless and he thought it was adorable when Eddie tried to speak Spanish.

“Eddie-Bear! My Love! Why are you sitting there, when there is a perfectly comfortable seat here on daddy’s lap?” Richie knew just how to ruin a cute moment.

“Can you behave!? Bill’s mom worked very hard on this dinner! Don’t be rude and wrangle your trashmouth!” Eddie looked up at Richie, who still comically dwarfed him even when seated.

“Whatever, bitch. Don’t be trippin’ balls, you know I got this shit.” He said with a straight face and not a hint of humor to his voice, knowing this would set Eddie off. God, how he enjoyed teasing his boyfriend!!

“Listen here, motherfuck-“

“Eddie!” just then, at the most incriminating moment, Bill’s parents walked into the room, each with a dish in their grasp. “I am so disappointed in you! You know we don’t allow foul language at the dinner table, especially on Christmas, young man!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Denbrough. It won’t happen again.” Eddie avoided her eyes at all costs, as if to catch them he would cause him spontaneously combust. He reached under the table and gave Richie a hard pinch to the sensitive flesh of his thighs. A vengeance that was subtle, but very much effective.

“OUCH! You dick!” Richie whisper yelled, only audible to Eddie, and Bev who sat beside him. She giggled.

“You deserve that! You got poor little Eddie in trouble!” she teased.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some defenseless creature. I’m a man!” Eddie resented his height, and it infuriated him when anybody made him feel weak because of it. “And, yes, you did deserve that, trashmouth.”

“Whatever you say, my little love-muffin. Ay que lindo mi bebe henanito!” Richie knew Eddie hated when he talked to him like a baby, which is exactly why he did it so often.

“Uuuuuuuugh!” Eddie was exhausted and just wanted to enjoy dinner. “Whatever.” The Losers exchanged amused looks. Eddie and Richie always knew how to put on a show, even if they didn’t mean to. Well, at least Eddie didn’t mean to.

“Alright, everybody! Let’s dig in!” Mr. Denbrough said wanting to change topic. Bill’s parents adored having the Losers over for Christmas, even more so since Georgie’s death. It was a pleasant distraction from his absence, though nothing could ever fully make their pain go away. It was still nice to have a house full of children, even if said children weren’t really kids anymore.

As they all began to enjoy their dinner, the couples segregated into their own individual conversations. Mike, being the eligible bachelor that he is, dipped in from one conversation to another. Mike was so charming and intelligent, and always adapted so well to any crowd, so it was effortless for him to jump from one topic to another. Ben and him had a particularly strong bond and could find themselves lost in conversation for hours. It was probably due to their similar qualities and shared interests. One could say they were Richie and Bev’s counterpart; both platonic, both incredible close.

The evening went on pleasantly, as it did every year. Eddie and Richie, surprisingly, bickered very little. Mostly because no one was paying them any attention, so there was no motivation for Richie to rile him up. Their conversation consisted mostly of cute inside jokes and sweet nothings. It would have been perfect, if not for Richie’s constant glances in Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough’s direction. As the boys spoke, Richie would face Eddie, but his eyes would dart towards the parents and linger just a bit too long. Then he’d catch himself, and snap his attention back to his boyfriend. Richie has always had a short attention span, but this was different. It seemed more like Richie COULDN’T get his eyes off the Denbroughs, rather than being incapable of paying attention to Eddie’s words.

Annoyed with Richie’s behavior, he turned to see what it was that he found so fascinating. What he found was a thing of fairytales. There were Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough, leaned into one another with her hands lovingly enveloped within his, as they engaged in their own conversation. The way he looked into her eyes was that of a man who could see the answers to the universe and find treasures untold within her emerald irises. An incandescent luminance seemed to radiate from them, and it was breathtaking in the most understated way possible.

Eddie was touch by such a display of unconditional love, but couldn’t understand why Richie found it so hypnotizing. It’s not like it was the first time they had seen Bill’s parents being affectionate toward each other. What made this instance so special? Eddie turned back to face Richie, who seemed to realize he had caught on to what he was doing. “You okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Richie responded as he cleared his throat and sat up on his chair making him seem a whole foot taller. Whatever it was that Richie found so engaging about the Denbroughs, it was clear to Eddie that Richie DID NOT want to talk about it. Knowing that asking him anything else about it would just aggravate him and ruin what has been a beautiful night, he relented.

“Okay.” He reached out for Richie’s hand and began to caress his knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. Richie turned to face him again, relaxing into the gesture. Eddie looked into his ebony eyes (noting to himself how much they resembled onyx) with sincere adoration and gifted him with the warmest of smiles. “I love you.”

A smile grew onto Richie’s face; accentuating the creases besides his eyes, a sign Eddie’s words had meant more to him in that moment than they usually would have. And that was saying a something. “I love you, too.”

“Oh my god, I am so stuffed! Eddie you guys did such an amazing job! It was DELICIOUS!” Ben plopped himself on the couch and patted his belly. After dinner everyone had helped out with the dishes, making the whole process much quicker, and they were now ready to enjoy their movie marathon in the living room.

“Thank you, but it was honestly all Mrs. Denbrough. I just did whatever she ordered me to do.” Eddie said humbly, seating himself in his usual spot on the floor, next to Richie.

“Hmmm. . . and what is it I have to do to get you to do the same for me, Eds?” Richie draped his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him closer to him.

“Don’t be fucking gross! I just ate!” Stan cried from his seat on Bill’s lap. “I swear I’m gonna go all exorcist and projectile vomit all over you, if you don’t cut the shit, Richie!”

“Okay now you’re the one being gross.” Bev grimaced at Stan’s words. “I’d rather talk about the film selection, than talk on any bodily functions or fluids.”

“I second that motion!” Mike said as he sprawled out a large selection of VHS’s on the table in the center of the living room. Everyone leaned in to inspect the titles. “What do you guys think about a Christmas movie?”

“Isn’t that a little cliché?” Bill chimed.

“Well when else are you supposed to watch a Christmas movie?” Ben quipped. “It’s not like we would watch A Christmas Story in July. Well, I don’t know about you, Bill, but we wouldn’t.”

“Appropriate or not, I don’t feel like watching a Christmas movie!” Richie interjected.

“What about a scary movie!?” Mike suggested excitedly, as he held up the new Nightmare on Elm Street movie.

“Yes!!!” Bev and Richie cheered in unison, then smiled at each other, proud of just how much they think alike.

“We can’t watch a scary movie! You know how easily Eddie gets scared, you guys!” Bill warned as he directed a concerned look at Eddie.

“Shut the fuck up! I‘m not scared, you twig-bitch!” Bill was taken back by Eddie’s unexpected outburst. There was a reason Richie and Eddie made such a perfect couple. Amongst many other things, they shared the same lighting wit and venomous tongue. “Don’t project your pussy boyfriend’s fears on to me!”

“I love you so fucking much!” Richie beamed with pride as he hugged Eddie with all his might. “I think it’s so fucking HOT when you get snarky like that! Mmh,” he whispered into Eddie ear, only to find himself chastised by the petite spitfire.

“I resent that, Eddie. I am not scared; I just think horror movies are stupid! They are all so predictable and exactly the same.” Stan attempted to defend himself to no avail. Everyone already knew what Eddie said was true.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Stan. It’s not that big of a deal.” Mike assured Stan, sympathetically.

“I’M NOT SCARED! Put on the fucking movie, I don’t care!” Stan was determined to prove his so-called friends wrong!

“Are you sure, babe?” Bill asked, his words laced with uncertainty.

“YES, I’M SURE BILL! WHAT THE HELL!?” Stan was disappointed that his boyfriend, out of everyone, didn’t believe in him enough to watch a horror movie. “Just put on the fucking movie!”

“Okay, people! You heard Curly Sue!” Richie chanted, earning a leer from his ringlet adorned friend and a giggle from Ben. “Let’s get this shit started!”

Mike took the VHS out of it’s plastic case and inserted it into the player. Everyone made themselves comfortable, paring into their respective couples, ready to enjoy the horror flick. Before they could begin, though, Bill’s parents entered to say goodnight, both ready to head to bed. “Alright, kids! We’re gonna go to bed. It was nice having you over again this year. Have a good night.” Mr. Denbrough said with the typical paternal formality one would expect from a father.

“There are plenty of snacks in the pantry, if you kids get hungry. Feel free to scavenge through.” Mrs. Denbrough added.

“WAIT, MRS. DENBROUGH!” Bev yelled, startling Bill’s parents with the sudden exclamation.

“What is it, Bev!?” Concern littered her petite face. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you! Ha! Ha! It’s just that you’re both under the mistletoe.” She answered bashfully.

“Oh, I guess we are, huh?” Mr. Denbrough smiled sweetly at his wife and she mirror his expression.

“KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” Everyone except Richie chanted. His stillness garnered the attention of his boyfriend, but Richie would never have noticed. He was lost; disconnect, but burdened. As the Denbroughs shared a kiss that could not be classified as anything other than a quick peck, Richie stared intensely and Eddie’s heart began to race. Eddie immediately recognized the expression that settled onto his face as the same one that he had on that terrifying September morning. It was unmistakable! It had been so long since he had seen it, but he could never confuse or forget it, even if he tried. It was burned into his memory like a scar.

“Richie. . . “ Eddie whispered warily, forgetting all about the other people in the room, who also seemed to be blissfully unaware of the situation between the two boys, having started to clap and cheer for the Denbroughs.

“Hmm. Yeah, Eds?” This time around reaching Richie was much easier, as he snapped back into the present almost instantly. Again, just as last time, he immediately tried to overcompensate with smiles and kisses. “What’s up, baby boy?” he asked nonchalantly as he leaned in for a kiss, which Eddie did not resist.

“Uh. Nothing.” Eddie learned from his experience last time and decided now was NOT the time to interrogate his boyfriend about what just happened. He would leave it for another time when they could both be alone. Richie just responded with another smile, only this time, the creases besides his eye did not make an appearance.

“Hey you two! Are you ready to watch the movie or do we need to give you some privacy?” Mike asked from the recliner he had made himself comfortable on. Eddie took notice of the Denbrough’s absence, surmising they had probably gone to bed in the middle of their exchange, and now all eyes here on them.

“Ha! Ha! Very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Press play, we’re ready.”

“Okay, but no making out during the movie!” Mike taunted with a sing-song tone one would expect from a child.

“Uh, when have we ever done that around you guys? Why don’t you say that to Stan and Bill!? They’re the ones that are always all over each other!” Eddie complained, in his tenor whine.

“Don’t be a fucking hater, midge.” Stan retorted.

“You know, Staniel, I think I like you better with Bill’s dick in your mouth.” Eddie said glaring into Stan’s eyes, a smile spreading on to his lips. “At least then you’re quiet.”

“Oh fuck! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Ben cackled. “Damn, dude.”

‘Okay! Okay! I’m pressing play now, everyone shut the fuck up!” Bev announced, taking the remote from Mike. She, too, had thought it was funny, but thought Stan had been humiliated enough for one day.

Eddie found himself unable to pay attention through the duration of the movie, still concerned with Richie’s strange behavior. He instinctively wanted to be blunt and forward, but he knew better. If he just came out and asked what was wrong, Richie would just flip out on him again. No, he needed to be smart about this. He settled on dealing with this on their walk home, which wouldn’t be for few more hours. This gave him plenty of time to figure out how to approach the subject. He knew that no matter how much prep time he had, Richie would still end up upset somehow, but it didn’t matter. This was something that had to be addressed. He silently prayed to whatever deity would listen, to bless him with the same resilient determination when he was force to face off with a furious Ricardo Alonzo Tozier.

It was now a little passed midnight as Richie and Eddie trekked their way over to the latter’s house, their gloved hands laced together and swinging between them. It had been a quiet walk for the most part, but not uncomfortably so. Both of them found themselves content in the other’s presence, even if neither spoke a word. It was strange to see the couple so well known for their loud and heated arguments be so serene. As heartwarming as it all was, Eddie knew this was just the calm before the storm. Guilt began to overtake him and he decided to break through the stillness.

“You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, like, about ANYTHING! I am here for you.” He said looking up at his raven-haired, statuesque boyfriend, forcing the calmest tone could possibly muster.

“I know, baby-boy.” Richie responded avoiding eye contact, knowing where this conversation was going and wanting to evade it at all costs.

“So, um. . . what’s going on?” That was EXACTLY what Eddie had promised himself not to ask, and then he fucking went off and asked it anyway. He was so frustrated with himself. “Ahem. . . Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is cool. It was a nice night, right?” Richie asked sullenly.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then, let’s not ruin it. I know where you’re going with this and I appreciate it, babe, but I don’t want to get into it.” Eddie was surprised and slightly hurt by Richie’s bluntness.

“I’m not trying to ruin anything.” Eddie’s eyes darted away from his boyfriend and glued themselves onto the pavement beneath them. “I am just concerned.”

“I know you are, and like I said I appreciate that, but nothing is wrong. If something WERE wrong, I would tell you, Eds.” Richie’s tone was becoming more pointed. “No you wouldn’t.” Eddie said under his breath, which came out as a small cloud due to the freezing temperature of the evening.

“What did you say?” Richie stopped in his tracks and pulled his hand away. “What did you say, Eddie?”

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead say what you’re really thinking! You wanted to talk; well here’s your chance! Talk!” There was no going back now.

“I-I-I . . . um. . . “ Eddie hesitated as he turned back to face Richie, “I said ‘No, you wouldn’t.’”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Eddie?” Richie inched himself closer.

“It’s just that you never talk to me. I mean you do, but only . . .like, only when you . . .”

“Only when I what? When I run to you after my dad kicks my ass? After my mom throws a bottle at my head and tells me to kill myself? Hmm?! Is that what you can’t seem to say?” Richie was not holding back any punches. “It’s funny how you say you want to talk, but here we are and you aren’t even able to finish that sentence!”

“It’s not that I can’t say it! I just have to walk on eggshells for you. If I say the wrong thing you get mad at me!” Eddie was starting to regret having brought the whole thing up.

“Oh, so it’s me!?” Richie widened and narrowed his eyes, pointing towards himself. “So I’m the bad guy!?”

“Richie, stop it! That is not what I said! Why does there always have to be a villain!? It’s just you and me; two people who care about each other! I am just trying to help…” Eddie tried his hardest to pacify Richie, but it seemed to make no difference.

“No, bullshit! I tell you everything is fine! I ask you to trust me and you keep fucking digging, Eddie! Why can’t you just let shit be? Why do you have to keep nagging and bitching!? What the fuck do you want from me? If I don’t want to talk about something, maybe its cause I can’t! Has that ever occurred to you?! No, because you don’t fucking care! No, you just want to martyrize yourself! You want to save me! I don’t need saving Eddie. Just let it fucking go! LET! IT! GO!” Richie was full on shouting now, emphasizing the last three words of his rant by shoving his boyfriend.

Eddie’s amber orbs began to shimmer with tears, but he refused to divert he eyes from Richie’s. “Why . . . Why are you being so mean? I didn’t mean to . . . I- I -I was just-Ugh!” He could find a way to finish a thought, so overwhelmed with hurt and frustration.

“You know what?” Regret had begun to sink in. Hurting Eddie was something Richie never wanted to do, but yet here was his Eds, crying because of him. “I-I-I’m just going to go home.” He turned around to walk back in the direction of his house, but before he could take more than one step he felt a small hand latch onto his arm.

“Wait! Stop!” Eddie began to wipe tear off his face with the hand that was not grasping on to Richie. “No! Don’t leave! Is this what its going be like every time things get difficult? Are you always going to walk away? What’s going to happen when things get to be too hard? When I get to be too annoying? Are you just going to leave me forever?”

“Eddie, I just can’t right now.” Richie pulled away and continued towards him house in wide strides; he needed to get out of there before he made things worse.

Without a second thought, Eddie chased after him and wrapped his small arms around the taller boy’s midsection, “STOP! DON’T LEAVE! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY I MADE YOU MAD; I DIDN’T MEAN TO. I’LL LET IT GO, I PROMISE! JUST- PLEASE DON’T LEAVE!” Eddies sobs tore into Richie’s heart. His body trembled as his tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his voice deteriorating with every word. “Please don’t be mad at me! Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you, Richie. I’ll let it go! . . . I’ll let it go.”

“Eddie. . .” Richie’s voice was tender and free of the malice that had poisoned it minutes ago. He turned to face Eddie, pulling him into his chest and rocking them side to side. “Shh. . . It’s okay, baby-boy. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you mad at me, I swear. I just wanted to help! I’m sorry.” Eddies sobs began to die down, but his face remained buried in Richie’s chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not mad, bebe. I promise I’m not mad.” Peppering kisses all over Eddie’s head, Richie tightened his embrace. “You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m sorry, I just…It’s just hard sometimes.”

Moving his arms from Richie’s midsection and wrapping them around his long pale neck, Eddie nestled his face into it’s nook. “I can understand that. I just want you to know that I care. I’m always going care and worry about you. I love you so much, Ricardo Alonzo Tozier! You never have to feel afraid or ashamed to tell me anything. I will always stand by you.”

Richie pulled Eddie away from him and looked into his eyes tenderly. “I love you too Edward Kaspbrak, so fucking much! I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? I will always stand by you, too!” Eddie’s lips spread into a smile, before leaning in to kiss the taller man.“Your nose is freezing! Let’s go home before you catch pneumonia.”

“Ha! Ha! You’re an idiot, but yeah. I’d really like that.” Just like that, it seemed everything reverted back to normal between them.

“You know what I’d really like, Eddie Spaghetti?” Oh yeah, Richie had definitely gone back to his normal self.

“Don’t even THINK we’re gonna have sexy-fun-time, tonight. I am so tired and you definitely need to shower before you get anywhere near my bed.” Eddie foreboded, as they continued their journey home with Richie’s arm draped over his shoulder.

“Eds, have you learned nothing today? I ALWAYS get my way.” he smirked.

“No, you do not!” Eddie looked up at him with narrow eyes and furrowed brows.

“I got you to kiss me tonight out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t underneath a mistletoe but it still counts as PDA!” Just then, Richie leaned in and stole another kiss from his boyfriend.

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie argued.

“Oh fuck yeah it does! Accept defeat and let me ravage you, Juliet!” Before Eddie could attempt to squirm away, Richie wrapped his arms around his hips and lifted him above him. Tickling Eddie tummy with his nose, Richie began to spin them around, playfully.

Eddie grabbed on to his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize himself as he giggled wildly. “Okay! OKAY! OKAAY!!”

“Does that mean yes sexy-fun-time?!” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he gently returned Eddie onto the pavement.

“Hm, we’ll see,” was all Eddie said as he continued his walk home, leaving Richie behind him.

“Oh, Eds, mi amor! You and I both know what that means.”

Eddie giggled in the distance.

Taglist: @bitchardtozier @bloggingandstruggling @11stayradstaybad11 @breakmyreddieheart @reddieformeerkat @purejaeden @julietissue @greywatertozier

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shadowsandbonerp · 4 years ago

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The Veil of The Mists

Accidentally or intentionally, there will come a point when you reveal your special abilities to others and thereby inadvertently stumble upon the greatest hoax in the City. You will discover, much to your simultaneous relief and dismay, that no-one remembers anything regarding your powers. To say no- one is slightly inaccurate, as you’ll eventually discover, but you will find that the vast majority of city dwellers simply ignore, excuse, or forget any legendary power that you manifest in their presence. Is it that they don’t want to remember or that they cannot remember? This is a philosophical question you may never answer.

This force, responsible for the ignorance of millions of people, is the Mist. Even its name is shrouded, you will never discover it. No-one can know its name; it cannot be spoken in reference to this force anywhere in the City. But you have likely come up with your own term for it: “the Hiding”, “the Brain-wiper”, or simply “this thing that makes people forget”.

In many ways it is a mild, undetectable force. In other ways, its all-encompassing nature is terrify- ing, as your experiments will surely divulge. When- ever the legendary manifests in any way, the Mist ensures that no-one knows about it or recognizes it for what it truly is. You begin to realize that you live in an entire City that is forever in the clutches of this force and that everyone you know and meet is entirely oblivious to what is going on around them. They are “Sleepers”, “groggies”, “fog- heads”; they are unable to see what you can see, no matter how concrete the facts you show them.

This realization alone can tear your psyche apart and indeed countless like you have lost their minds when the gravity of the situation struck them. You are living in a city of sleepwalkers, and that includes the people you love the most. A great chasm opens up between you and those closest to you, a chasm that you can only repress, never bridge. This may drive you to want to know more about the Mist. Even if you survive all this psycho- logical stress, you will face unavoidable questions. “What about me? What am I not seeing? Is there something I too am blind to?” You start, in your own way, to study the Mist. If you continue asking questions, here’s what you’ll find out:

The Mist hides and distracts. Just as one is about to witness the real-life manifestation of your Mythos, something will happen to make them look away or at the very least blur their impression. Fog will roll in, rain will lash at them, steam will blow out from the subway vents, the lights will flicker. Alternatively, their phone will ring just at the right moment, or someone will cry for help, or they will spot their favorite sports player walking down the street. Whatever form it takes, the Mist will make them miss the miraculous display altogether, or at the very least doubt what they saw: “I saw some- thing, but I’m not sure exactly…” If you push them later, most people will respond with disbelief that it ever happened, or even could happen.

As you’ll discover, the Mist is not limited to people’s minds. Its effects are more far-reaching than mind tricks. It can cause interference in electrical devices recording your legendary pow- ers (and Sleepers would claim it’s edited footage, anyway). More worryingly, it seems to be able to orchestrate events with disturbing synchronicity, for example, having your boyfriend arrive at the scene out of the blue just as you’re about to witness the magical powers of a Rift you worked weeks to track down.

You see, the effects of the Mist are not limited to Sleepers. You too, as well as the other Rifts you’ll meet, are subject to its distractions. The difference is that you remember; you know there is something hiding the truth from you. You know that what you didn’t see in a moment of distraction is what really matters, and that if you had seen it, you’d remember it.

The Mist provides excuses and twists perceptions. Sometimes, if you’re lucky or unlucky enough, the Mist will fail momentarily and someone will get to see your legendary power in all its glory. At first, as the unadulterated reality sets in, they may be shocked, eyes glazing over. However, the Mist quickly sweeps up after you. Moments later, the glazed look in their eyes will vanish; if asked about it, they’ll acknowledge everything that happened except its legendary nature. Sleepers will staunchly maintain that there is some mundane explanation to what happened: a freak electrical phenomenon, some kind of scam using movie special effects, whatever. You don’t seriously expect them to believe it was the Big Bad Wolf you just wrestled with, do you?

This normalizing effect also works on a much deeper level. You’ll find that Sleepers subconsciously edit everything they see as it happens. Where you may see a two-headed troll, they will see horribly deformed and obese Siamese twins; when obviously faced with the Queen of the Dead, they’ll remember her as an obnoxious drag queen. The Mist makes it so that Sleepers just cannot see, not even what’s right in front of them. Even you sometimes need an actual display of legendary powers before you can be sure someone else is a Rift. When thus revealed, the magnitude of the power of the Mist over the City’s residents is truly alarming.

The Mist makes you forget. This is possibly the scariest aspect of the Mist. When you experience this effect, you will suddenly grasp how fragile your mundane life is, how in one moment it can all be taken away from you. It seems there is only so much the Mist can cover up at once; sometimes, when it’s stuck for a solution, the Mist will become aggressive and simply wipe out all memory of your Mythos manifestations from people’s minds. For them, and sometimes ‘them’ are very large groups of people, it would be as if the event never happened. “I can’t recall exactly what I did last Thurs- day. I guess I went to Eddie’s, like every Thursday. I might have had one beer too many, though…”

This effect also has a milder but equally impactful aspect, one which affects minds over time. People in the City don’t dwell over mystical and supernatural shenanigans; they forget, they let go, they move on. Their own lives are much more compelling than something weird they can’t understand. Which brings us to the last point.

The Mist exploits the things dearest to you. Your own life is the Mist’s strongest weapon, es- pecially the things you love or hate. If you value your family, the Mist will use them to throw you off. If you like cars or hate rats, you’ll see a flashy ride or a hairy critter crossing the road just as you’re about to witness something important. And since almost everyone either loves or hates themselves, the Mist also employs aspects of your own personality and body against you: a passing thought about your future, an inexplica- ble bad feeling that never leaves you, or a sudden hunger for burritos – all of these can be carefully placed by the Mist at the exact moment some- thing else is happening at the corner of your eye, something legendary, something that will provide answers.

If that’s the way it works on you, imagine how it works on Sleepers. Sleepers are obsessed with their own lives. They don’t care what’s happen- ing around them. Sometimes you think it’s like they wear helmets made of pure noise, constant- ly dealing with “Me, me, me!”. Well, in a way, you’re the same, but at least your eyes are open some of the time.

So while this mysterious force prevents others from seeing you as you are, it also makes it more difficult for you to find the answers you are looking for.

An important fact you will learn is that the Mist does NOT change reality (at least not abruptly enough for you to notice). While trying to get answers from a violent gang of cultists, for example, if you beat them up with your ancient bronze staff and you all end up getting arrested, they’ll report “This freak came at me with some weird metal shaft!” If you do so by turning your arm into stone, they’ll say, “That crazy son of a bitch hit me with a brick!” However, they will still be injured, for real, and forensics may be able to tell if they were hurt by bronze or stone. This is to say the consequences of your Mythos powers are very much real. Just because the Mist covers up all perception of the legendary aspects of your actions doesn’t mean you will not be held responsible for them.

Only the legendary miracles and wonders are forgotten. Some of the ordinary residents of the City are quite sharp and focused: that police detective, that bohemian musician at the jazz club, that kid in the basketball court. They’re not zombies or drones, they’re just under a spell. They can tell you’re up to something, even if they can’t see it for what it is. And there is always the possibility that they too will awaken. .

#siteinfo #shadowsandbone #jcink

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chestshot · 4 years ago

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Creature in the dark love to scare the little children. The grownups say a prayer, and the demons are forced to return to the shadow realm. Never get caught in a blackout. Some never find their way home. Come in as soon as the streetlights illuminate the path of the righteous. The beetles and moths have gathered in a procession, to welcome the night. “Where were you?” “I don’t know” was never the right answer. It is never going to be the right answer. “Stop crying. I’ll give you something to cry about.”

In this house, the belt and extension cords keep the disobedient in line. Sticks leave bruises. No Bueno. Back straight. “This is going to hurt me more than you.” I never understood that logic. “So why can’t I do it to you, like you did it to me?” “Porque yo soy la puta que te pario (because I am the bitch that birthed you). I’m doing this because I love you. Your soul is in danger.” We used to kneel on the bare floor covered in rice. We were made to carry these bags above our head for twenty minute and think about how we were not supposed to fight. She went easy on us this time. “Now kiss your sister and tell her you love her and you’re sorry.”

What is obedience, and what happens when it is forced? Believe in unity. Value brotherhood. Seize any opportunity to join hands. Even as the big hands crush the small hands, like a fist full of lavender flowers. Don’t think so hard. The guardians have done all the thinking for us. Some things do not need an explanation. Guardians discourage the children from scrutinizing every detail. All we need is to believe. Can’t we all just come together as one? If I wanted to find everlasting life, why did I have to lay it down to begin with?

The Knights of Columbus hosted Sunday breakfast every month. It was a fundraiser. As if the crusades did not provide enough funding. As if the parish had not given enough during the second collection. My mother would always hand me a folded dollar bill when the collection basket came by. It was a little secret between our Father and I (Mathew 6:1-4). I was planting a seed for his kingdom, and if we did not fork over the dough, let’s just say there was hell to pay.

I went to Sunday school. I had to. Otherwise I could not get baptized or have my first communion. The instructor told us that Jesus loved us, so he died on the cross for us. If we loved Jesus, too, we had to love each other. We colored the nativity scene and learned a few prayers. We were taught a theology approved by the Roman Catholic Church, and classes were $25 per child. At the baptism, donations were formally encouraged. Those must have been some expensive ass crayons. I was a good boy, but never good enough to be an altar boy.

I had refused to help in the family garden in the front yard one time. The bathroom floor was cold on my cheek. The sweat and tears running down my neck fell on the yellow linoleum. Now a grip on the arm, bent around my back. Too tight on the wrists. Cheeks got so hot that the salt water started to dry up and irritate my skin. Was it worth it? I know it was fucking hot outside, but couldn’t I have just done a shitty job or at least bullshit? Close the door. The neighbors can hear. Plus, the ac is on. I’ve been getting ass beatings since I was alive. If not from the guardians, then from bad decisions. I want to make them happen, but I always keep getting in my own way. Sometimes the floor can become comfortable. Just waiting for the blackouts to swallow me whole.

God helps those that help themselves…. Wait.. That’s not in the bible!

The Sunday breakfast consisted of yellow “just add water” scrambled eggs. I was too young to get hooked on coffee. Pass me the milk. I ate next to a church girl with an intellectual disability. Did God make her like that? I did not know. All I knew was that we were all equally as hungry after service. I felt like all the dark holes in the floor were so much smaller back then. If I stepped on a crack, I could always find my balance, or the guardian would help me till I recuperated.

“Hey guys. Where’s Jesus’s cloths. This is not funny. Oh… you guys hung him like this? Why? He was giving everyone free healthcare and food and shit. He doesn’t deserve this shit! Bring him down! Now!”

Societies fascination for making atonement. Drink and drive? Dui. Tax evasion? Prison time (unless its some shit like a white collar crime). $50 dollar fines for parking in front of a fire hydrant, that one time I moved out of my parents’ house and rented a room from some asshole named Evander. I was not a child anymore. I was learning from experience. If I only learned to come home on time. They say “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” I could have only imagined why, but the dark holes were still manageable. No claws yet. No transformation. The delinquencies of adolescence were not yet ripe. There was not enough blood.

I helped myself to a glass of orange juice. High pulp. Tart. Almost as refreshing as the forgiveness of sins. Dixie paper cups. An old couple. They must have both been in their eighties. With not much time to live, they both enjoyed the pancakes with light butter. No syrup though. Diabetes, you know. He pulled the chair out for her. He took off her sweater and placed it behind the chair. He wiped his head with a towel, then his mouth. He regained his balance. and shuffled to his own seat. He led the prayer and they both sat down to share (maybe their last) Breakfast. Listened to your guardians and maybe you can live as long as them.

One time, Father Manuel unofficially sponsored Mission Tortillas. “Como Dios Manda” literally means “How God Orders” or more precisely “What God Demands of us”. He was calling out the young women who decided club wear for a Sunday mass was appropriate. Father Manuel roasted them. “Esta bien que sea Qinceniera. (it would be cool if this was a Quincenera) Pero esta es la casa de Dios (but this is the house of God).” We were all sinners, but some of us did a better job at hiding it. We were all trying to avoid the transformation. We all needed to love. We just needed time to patch things up.

Mother Theresa believed that suffering was how you got closer to God. She refused to let some children receive treatment, so naturally, they would die. Their souls belonged with the Lord. For a while, I started to believe that I was suffering, and therefore, there was no God. I think we suffer because we think we must, like it’s all part of the greater picture. I also think we suffer because we all have things we conveniently forget about. We should know better.

It’s not normal to stay up all night. It’s not normal to operate a vehicle under the influence of anything. It’s not normal to lie to the person you are with. It’s not normal to wake up at 3 pm every fucking day. It’s not normal to put things up your nose. It’s not normal to get in the car with a complete stranger. It’s not normal to think that you can live with people for free. It’s not normal to pass out at the bar. It’s not normal to constantly burn bridges. It’s not normal to forget what you did the night before. The blackouts swallowed me alive, over and over and over. I couldn’t see the streetlights. There was no one left to pay for my sins.

August 15thth, 2020, 2:30 A.M.-ish

I said I was going to work on it las week, and then the week before. I had checked into the catacomb of wasted ambitions. The creatures of the dark had left. I looked in the mirror and could not accept what I had become. What big claws and teeth.

I had a dream I was filling up one cup with another cup, like an endless water mill. I’m not sure why I always felt this way. An endless repetition that never ends, like new ideas filling old ones, but never quite arriving at a solution, or like fish eating fish eating fish… Like a two gallon hourglass, constantly being flipped on it’s other end, ass up, face down, full of itself. The air bubbles, trying to escape. The lump in the throat of my life, always sinking into my stomach. The transformation was complete. I was living in a blackout.

The beta, or Siamese fighting fish, is native to Thailand and Cambodia. You can pick them up at your local swap meet. I used to love going to the Broadacre swap meet after Sunday mass. I got my hands on everything an eight-year-old should never get their hands on: laser pointers, chained wallets, pocket knifes, fart bombs, shock pens, pet’s I wasn’t able to take care of. I’m not sure what the fish were so angry about. Probably from being confined to a tiny ass sandwich bag.

I got my ass kicked in a bar fight once, in 2018. Three against one. I do not remember. I was asking for something that was not on the menu. I was being annoying. Swings broke out like a Florida coastline and faster than you can say Tallahassee’s televised turnout tremendously terrified pterodactyls. Too small. Smack. Too slow. Smack. I fell to the floor, head between my knees. My jeans ripped. All I could see was stars at that point. I raised a barstool over my head and threw it against the bar, not sure if it landed on anyone. Always bust out the bar stool when you know you are going to get rocked. I ran out through the front entrance and I called 911. I left my bicycle behind. The cops were nice enough to drive it down to me. They told me that the security guard told them I was trying to buy drugs. I told them it was a hate crime. They told me to go home. I told them I would never go back to that bar again.

Pigs in a blanket. I think there was bacon. Bacon or sausage. No. I think there were both. I woke up at 6am to eat this at 10am. 10:15 if you consider waiting in line. Why couldn’t everyone break bread the way we did? People always have to start a fight during a meal, or beer, if you’re a man of culture who would prefer to drink their meals. The indigestion was the worst. I could not eat breakfast too early because my stomach lining was still sensitive from the binge the night before. This did not stop me from killing a whole order of carne asada fries at night. I felt the weight of a bowling ball in my diaphragm when I woke up the next morning. Drinking water felt like swallowing marbles. This wasn’t normal. I’m not going to lie.

Well that’s great news, kind sir, because I can not condone dishonesty. Now please leave the patrons alone or get out of the bar.

My older sister became an usher at church. She showed everyone to their seats. She wore a sash that said “Orden” or literally “Order”. She asked people if they could scoot over. She made room where people were resting their purses or when someone decided that they needed to sit with their legs wide open. Me and my younger sister always got pinches during service if we were joking around or being distracting. How did the people really bring their kids to church like that? We were so rambunctious!

The endless cycle of Life: that our guardians had to beat the shit out of us. So that maybe we could learn. Or so we would avoid the transformation. In the end, we resent their efforts and only make it worse for ourselves. I try to push myself up, but my left arm is too mangled to lift any weight. The dark holes just seem like the better option sometimes. If the blackout won’t take me now, then maybe tomorrow.

The holes are patched up today. I found my way through the dark. My guardians were there all along. I just needed some space. My mind is clear. I can focus again. I can have breakfast again. The nights can be long and dark, but I know the demons have left. My house is in order. My mind is clear. I finally have a clean conscience. I want to go back to the time when I was a child. Back to a time of trusting that the streetlights were guiding me all along. When I could hear my mother’s voice and know in my heart that the night was near, but only to visit.

Drink some water. Jesus fishes. Say a prayer. Missing pieces. Dying wish is - God’s my witness – you just know** * the nighttime* ** only** came to** visit**.

#author #beat #person of color #litterature #publishing #violence #recovery

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deztinywarriors · 7 years ago

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ES Spectre 2.0 Chapter 27

#Playchoices #endless summer #fanfic #fanfiction #choices #pixelberry #adventure

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madminniefics · 7 years ago

Photo

still life

it all started in the stairwell. an art school au ft. skipped classes, wet paint, and finding art in the everyday.

The air whistled through the leaves on the branches above Mirella Santos’ head as she laid under the largest tree on campus. With eyes closed and a hand on the sliver of tan skin peeking from between her tiny pink crop top and even tinier black shorts, she listened to the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling. It was her routine: wake up, drink a glass of coffee spiked with rum, and lay under her tree for an hour before painting. It was reinvigorating and it gave her time to relax while her type-A roommate, Billie Thomas, shuffled papers or switched outfits six times or paced back and forth or whatever else she did before she went to her business classes.

Rey leaned up on her elbows, pressed the home button on her phone, and smiled. It was nine: time to go back to her apartment and work on her newest landscape painting, which was just of the view outside her window. She had ten canvasses stacked in one corner of her room with matching landscapes in different color schemes. Everything from neon to greyscale as she searched for her signature style.

Tossing her tan backpack over her shoulder, Rey walked away, raking a hand through her black hair to dislodge the dry pieces of grass that she knew were stuck in her strands. She took slow, small steps towards her shared apartment ducking through classmates heading in the opposite direction towards campus. She caught a glance of herself in the window of her favorite boutique and smiled. Getting out of that tiny town in Pennsylvania had been the best thing that ever happened to her. Rey had never been as happy as she was since moving to Oxford. Even if her family called at all hours of the night.

Rey’s phone buzzed in her back pocket as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. With keys in hand, she swiped across the screen with the other before placing the phone up to her ear.

“Hi Mami,” she said, smiling as Mami’s voice rang through the speaker. They didn’t talk much due to the time difference and Mami’s busy schedule at the hardware store. That week alone she’d closed, opened, closed, and was opening again that morning. “You getting ready for work?”

“Yeah,” Mami sighed. The sound came in far away, as if Mami had put her on speaker. “I have to go in early today because the fucking alarm went off and you know i’m the only manager they can call.”

Rey could feel Mami roll her eyes from across the Atlantic. Four managers and yet Mami was still the one who ended up with most of the responsibilities on her shoulders. It was unfair but Mami would do anything to help Rey make ends meet. She listened to Mami go off about how shitty her fellow managers were as she walked onto the tiny landing just as one of her new neighbors' guests did, causing her to fall back against the wall and drop her phone as his shoulder clipped hers.

“I’m so sorry,” He huffed as he scrambled to keep his laptop from falling on the floor. Rey swiped her phone off the tile and let out a relieved breath when she saw the screen was intact. She could hear Mami asking what was wrong but couldn’t take her eyes away from the man in front of her. His eyes were the same color as her favorite green tea. She thought of the paint she had upstairs and whether she could replicate his eye color for the pastel landscape she was creating.

“It’s fine.” She smiled, pocketing her phone as she waited for him to move so she could start her day.

“I’m Harry,” He stood on the step below her. She couldn’t help but notice that he was still taller than her. But then again, at just over five feet, everyone seemed to be taller than Rey. Even her baby cousin Edgardo had passed her and he was barely thirteen.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Rey,”

He reached his hand out for her to shake. Rey hid the shiver that raced up her back at the feel of his ice-cold hand in hers. She clasped her hands together in front of her but still felt his hand around hers.

"See you around, Rey," Harry smirked and sent her a mock-salute as he walked down the stairs and out the door. Rey swallowed hard as she watched him leave before reaching into her pocket and placing her phone back up to her ear.

"Mami?" Rey waited for Mami to make a noise before continuing. "Perdon, es que..."

Her voice trailed off as she wracked her brain trying to formulate an excuse for what just happened. If she so much as mentioned a man she knew Mami would go off. Whether she would encourage it or tell Rey to focus on school all depended on Mami's mood. And Rey didn't feel like hearing it either way.

"Tenias alguien en tu apartamento?" Mami said casually. Rey knew better than to take the bait. She could almost see Mami smirking as the gears worked in her mind. She knew damn well Rey had been talking to a man.

"No, I bumped into someone on the stairs again,"

Rey stuck the key in the door as Mami sighed. Pushing the door open, Rey would bet a million dollars that Mami was about to tell her she needed to be careful. It wasn't the first time they'd had the conversation and it wouldn't be the last. Rey had always been clumsy. She'd always blamed it on her inability to focus on more than one thing at a time.

"Tienes que tener cuidado,"

"Si, Mami, yo se,"

"I'm just saying. If you break something Mami can't fly over to take care of you," Mami laughed but her voice was tinged with sadness. Rey frowned at her easel. She hadn't seen her mom in almost a year. Before moving away to university, she saw Mami everyday. She'd drive Rey to and from school whenever she could. On weekends they would go shopping together. When Rey had braces in tenth grade Mami would keep her out of school all day whenever she had orthodontic appointments. They would go to her appointment in the morning and in the afternoon they would see a movie.

They were more like sisters than mother and daughter.

"I'll let you go, baby, so you can work on homework or something. I'll call you tomorrow, it's my day off, finally," Mami laughed, this time more up beat, and Rey smiled. They said their goodbyes quickly before one of them cried. When Rey first left for school, they cried everytime they spoke on the phone. Now? Every once in a while.

Rey fought a yawn as she walked into her room to get her box of paints. Time to work on her eleventh landscape of the month.

•

Ever since running into Harry in the stairwell, Rey could do little other than think of his eyes. Instead of the landscapes that she'd painted almost obsessively for months, she'd taken to painting eyes. Everything she'd painted in the past month was colored in an assortment of greens as she tried, in vain, to recreate the not-quite-mint green color that haunted her every waking moment.

She had to see him again.

Yes. Yes! That was it. Harry was her muse and, without him, she would never be able to release herself from this funk. All she had to do was find him. That would be easy enough.

Right?

•

Turned out that knocking on her neighbors doors' on the weekend of a big midterm—yet another pro to being a visual arts major and not something deathly boring like English or math—was not something her neighbors were particularly into. Most were engaged in their study groups, wearing pajamas that were so dirty they looked like they could stand up by themselves, and sharing flash cards or quizzing each other. Things Billie would do with her fellow business majors. The types that, with no hesitation or provocation, would happily "explain" to Rey why visual arts is a "trash" major and that in "give or take six months after graduation you'll be working for us."

Rey couldn't handle business major ego. They truly believed they were the greatest thing to grace the Earth since...since...since Selena. And, bitch, nobody could touch Selena, Rey's idol, the reason she was following her passion. Even as it took her across an ocean to a country where she was alone.

Snatching the canvas from the easel, she threw the still wet work against the wall. The tear ducts were all wrong. The eyelashes? Even more so. Things that had worked before were suddenly no longer working and Rey didn't know what to do.

Her support system was an ocean away. They were busy with their lives 3,516 miles away from her. She promised them she was going to create a life from scratch in England. That they didn't have to worry about her because she was outgoing, friendly, and brave.

It was easy to say those things with the comfort of your family surrounding you, encouraging you, urging you to follow your dreams so they could live through you.

Didn't you know Titi Milta always wanted to live in England? She’s too old to do so herself, but she would love a postcard or two. Maybe even a letter! She would love a letter. Send Titi letters, Reysita.

Your Abuela Mirella, your namesake, loved to draw. She drew whenever she had a free moment between raising seven kids in a shack in the mountains of Puerto Rico and taking care of your Abuelo Josue when he deigned to show his face after running off with another woman in town until she kicked him out, learning what Abuela Mirella already knew: he was a piece of shit. But he was a piece of shit with a pension, and her children wouldn't starve just because she fell out of love with her husband. Drawing was the only thing that Abuela truly enjoyed doing. Estas cargando un gran legado, Reysita. Do it because Abuela couldn't.

But, perhaps what hurt Rey the most, were the reasons why her own Mami encouraged her.

No quiero que termines como yo, mis ojitos de oro. I want you to be someone. I want you to achieve more than I did. Be more than the girl who became pregnant at seventeen after a five minute, unremarkable, hook up in the back of a car with the captain of the baseball team. The girl who was forced to marry that boy because of the pregnancy. You know all the shit I go through at work, Rey. I don't want that for you. If you want to study in some other country, if that's what will make you happy, I promise I will make it happen.

And Mami never broke her promises.

Rey slumped to the floor in front of the easel. But what if that was too much pressure? What if she didn't want to write letters or draw because it was some legacy passed down from her favorite Abuela or do better because her Mami didn't want her to hate her life?

Scrubbing her face, Rey groaned and plopped on her side in the fetal position. She'd been in university for three years. For three years she'd been keeping up pretenses with her family.

Yes, Titi Milta, I have enough to eat.

Yes, Papi, I'll call you if I need anything.

No, Tio Padrino, you don't need to take time from your busy schedule to visit. Save the money for my prima Adriana's quinceañera. She had big hopes and you'd need that money to fulfill them.

Yes, Mami, I'm happy.

When would Rey do something for herself? Because it made her happy, not because her family expected her to do it so they could live through stories she told during Christmastime.

Pushing herself up with one shaky hand, Rey wiped her brow where beads of sweat had accumulated during her anxiety attack. She was breathing hard and unsure of what to do next. On any other day, she would call Mami. No matter that it was the middle of the night and Mami had closed the store the day before and it was her first day off in two weeks. Rey knew that Mami would answer.

And that's why she didn't call.

She scrambled up instead and retrieved the thrown canvas. Setting it back up on the easel, Rey tilted her head and squinted at the lonely eye. Closing her own, she conjured up Harry's face in her mind and smiled as she picked up a piece of kohl. With eyes closed, she drew what she saw behind them.

When she opened them thirty minutes later, she smiled. She'd actually created something she wouldn't be ashamed to display.

A black and white portrait of Harry, as seen through Rey's perspective.

On the canvas he was all bright, blinding smile and enchanting eyes that, somehow, you knew were heart-stoppingly green in person.

•

The next time she saw Harry it was in her beloved art supply store. The one on the outskirts of campus, where first years and students taking art classes for elective credits rarely ventured, that Rey had discovered her third week on campus when she got lost trying to find her psychology class.

(A required class, otherwise Rey would not be caught dead in a class where you might be made to take a test on a scantron sheet.)

Harry was standing in between the marker and paint aisles as if he couldn't decide which medium to use. A man after Rey's own heart. She'd convinced herself to stop looking for him because, as Mami always said, when you stop looking for something that's when it shows up.

Except.

Except she ducked into the canvas aisle to avoid him. Instead of facing the object of her daydreams, and one really weird dream about talking tootsie rolls, she ran away. The canvasses blurred together in front of her eyes as she took deep breaths. Closing her eyes tight, she breathed through her mouth as she hoped that Harry wouldn't walk down her aisle.

After she heard the ding of the front door three times, she decided it was safe to move to another aisle. Her walk was bouncy, her ponytail swung behind her, as she repeated her mission in her head: paint, and lots of it, in shades of green and peach.

•

Another day, another failed canvas.

This one, at least, had somewhat resembled Harry. It was the coloring that was all wrong. He'd come out looking like a vampire and that just would not do. Where were his rosy cheeks and matching lips? The minty green of his eyes? His skin bronzed from his holiday to the south of Spain (thanks, Billie, for that info)? It was all missing and those were the details that brought a piece, and a person, to life.

Instead of throwing the canvas across the room like she'd wanted, she turned on her reggaeton spotify playlist. Songs that she'd grown up listening to, songs that she remembered Papi rapping along to while they waited for the light to change, songs that Mami had taught her to dance to. The raunchy, not safe for work songs of her childhood that spoke casually and explicitly about sex, drugs, and other illicit things with women moaning in the background all while keeping up a perfect rhyme.

Rey had always wondered if those women were paid well.

The songs, with their strong bass beats, boomed from the speakers attached to Rey's laptop as she stood and began to dance along to the music. It began with her hips. She'd learned at a young age—some would say too young—how to mimic the beat of a song in the swing of her hips. The song began slow, giving Rey a chance to get into the rhythm, before dropping the beat thirty seconds into the song. She shook her hips and tilted her head back, hair dangling past her mid back, with a grin on her face.

When was the last time she'd felt that carefree?

Murmuring the lyrics under her breath, it was all too loud for her to hear the front door open or Billie announcing herself and her guest. It wasn't until a few minutes later, near the end of the song, when Rey turned around and opened her eyes that she realized she had an audience.

And not just any audience. The eyes she'd been trying to perfect for a month, the eyes that were doodled on every scrap of paper and most of the canvasses lining the perimeter of the room, were suddenly right in front of her. There, in her living room, stood her Harry. The man that she swore she would never see again after the failed encounter at the art supply store.

Rey cleared her throat and simultaneously pulled her grey tank top up and the hem of her soft, blue, sleep shorts down. Her cheeks burned as if she'd accidentally fallen asleep on the beach. Billie had one hand over her mouth, like she was trying her hardest not to laugh, while Harry was looking down at his feet. His cheeks matched Rey's.

She scrambled over to her laptop to turn off the music. Without it, the silence echoed in the quiet room until Harry cleared his throat.

"Nice to see you again," He smiled and scratched the back of his neck.

Rocking on the balls of her feet, Rey bit her lips and nodded. Billie looked between the two with furrowed brows.

"I'm missing something," She said. "Why are y'all being weird?"

You could always count on good, old, Southern Billie to be as blunt as possible in any and every situation. If you wanted someone to be subtle, you didn't want Billie. Nothing about the girl was subtle. Not the corkscrew curls in her afro, not her neon colored clothes, and especially not her personality. Billie was trying to keep her 4.0 gpa. She didn't have time to beat around the bush. Rey closed her eyes tight and squeezed the bridge of her nose. Harry laughed. Rey wished she could bottle up the deep hum that was his laugh so she could open it and use it whenever she needed inspiration.

Billie looked from Harry to Rey before shaking her head and walking into the kitchen. When she walked back in, with a glass of water and bag of chips in hand, Rey and Harry were still looking at each other awkwardly. Billie set her snack down on the battered coffee table before clapping her hands together.

"Ready to study finance?"

Harry's eyes dimmed as he nodded and sat beside Billie on the couch. Rey deflated. Finance? So he was a business major?

"I'm done for the day so take your time," Rey smiled and sneakily grabbed at the canvas on the easel. As if it wasn't already awkward, Harry didn't need to spend however long while he studied with his own face staring at him.

"It's only noon," Billie squinted her blue eyes at Rey. "Didn't you say you had a huge project due soon?"

Rey's eyes widened and she almost dropped the canvas in her hand. Shit. The massive, half-of-her-overall-grade project for her photography class that she'd forgotten about was due in two days. She somehow needed to find a subject for her portraits, take pictures, and edit them all in two days.

Slumping down into the bean bag chair on the opposite side of the room, Rey hugged the canvas to her chest. She could feel the wet paint sticking to the front of her already paint splattered pink tee shirt. When she looked up, Billie was looking at her with something nearing pity in her eyes. She knew how much this meant to Rey. Billie was also the first in her family to go to university. She knew, better than anyone, the pressure that Rey was under.

Billie set her notebook on the coffee table and scooted to the edge of the couch. Harry was looking at Rey with a small smile on his face. As if he didn't notice that, at that moment, Rey was going through all the reasons why she would fail out that semester.

"Harry's test isn't for another week. Do you mind if I help Rey with her crisis today instead?" Billie turned slightly towards Harry with a hesitant look on her face.

Harry shook his head. "Let's help Rey. Finance can wait."

Rey perked up at the sound of her name passing his lips. The canvas slipped from her arms as they loosened and slipped to the floor face up. Billie looked down and her eyes widened. Launching herself from the couch, she snatched the canvas from the floor and leaned it against the wall, facing inwards so that Harry wouldn't see. A true friend.

"Ok, so what do you need help with?” He asked.Rey cleared her throat. “I need a model and at least twenty good, useable portraits.”

"Harry can you model? My hair's not done." Billie said with a straight face. Her hair was, in fact, done and looking amazing that morning but nobody would dare argue with Billie. She was a future business lawyer. She had the whole 'I'm-Lying-But-I-Dare-You-To-Say-Otherwise' face down. It was better to stay on Billie's good side.

Without hesitation, Harry agreed. Rey grinned and ran into her room to change into a pair of light wash skinny jeans, a white tank top, and pink cropped bomber jacket. After running a brush through her hair, she grabbed the camera bag from it's place on the floor next to her nightstand and walked out the room.

•

They spent the majority of the afternoon walking from one side of campus to the other trying to find the perfect lighting. Billie kept checking the time on her watch and on her phone, as if the time would be radically different from one medium to the other. Rey was kneeling a few feet away from Harry, camera pointed upwards, as he looked up at a tree stoically when Billie cleared her throat.

"This has been super fun," Billie snorted. "But I have marketing in like twenty minutes. Toodles!"

Harry moved from the position he was in to stretch his neck. Rey bit her lip and looked back through the pictures they’d taken. She needed to submit twenty of her best photos. She’d taken nearly one hundred, so she was sure that she had enough. But she didn’t want the afternoon to end. Billie felt more like a babysitter than a friend that afternoon, in the way that she’d rushed Rey and gave her “pep talks” (which were just Billie reminding Rey that she had no time to be “lollygagging around”). Having some time alone with Harry was exactly what Rey needed.

“Have fun in class!” Rey called as Billie walked off. Turning to face Harry, she bit her lip. “Do you think you could spare another hour?”

He grinned and she felt her world spin. That feeling you get in your stomach when there’s turbulence on an airplane? That’s how Rey felt whenever Harry smiled. It was unsafe but she loved it.

His eyes were especially bright that day. Maybe it was the sun that seemed to come out just for Rey or maybe he was happier that day or maybe…maybe that’s what he looked like and she just didn’t remember. It was plausible. She barely remembered what he looked like that day in the stairwell when they met. She liked to think he just walked around with bright eyes and smile every day. She liked to think of him as happy.

“I’m all yours, Rey,”

If only.

•

By the time the pair finished, it was dark. The streets were full of students getting out of night classes, going to and from dinner, and enjoying the mild temperatures. In a few weeks it would be cold and nobody, not even Rey, would want to lay outside. It was a shame, though, because campus looked beautiful in the winter.

Rey held onto the strap of her camera bag tightly as the crowd jostled her. Harry placed his hands on Rey’s shoulders. She could feel the goosebumps erupt on her arms beneath her jacket. Swallowing hard, she looked up to find him already looking at her with a smirk on his face. He winked and looked forward, guiding her through the crowd so that nobody else would try to take her shoulder with them.

“You don’t have to walk me home,” Rey said when they walked past the crowd. “I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

“I really don’t,” He laughed and shook his head as he fell into step beside Rey. He looked down at her and the wide smile on his face caused his dimples to form. She stuffed her free hand in her pocket to keep from reaching up and poking the one closest to her. “Besides, I had fun today.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thanks again for helping. Not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

“You would’ve had to do a series of selfies or rope Billie into agreeing to model,”

They laughed at just how absurd those suggestions were. Billie? Model? She would never. Rey was certain of that. Shit, she’d asked her many, many times over the past three years and the answer had always been an overwhelming ’NO.’ Eventually Rey stopped asking. She valued her friendship with Billie more than the pictures she knew she would be able to get. When Billie’s afro hit the light? Perfection.

But, Harry had been a good alternative.

Rey stuck her key into the door as Harry waited behind her. She opened the door, took a step inside, and turned to smile at Harry.

“Thanks, again, for today.”

“No problem,” He shrugged. “Anytime you need a model, let me know. I loved it.”

Rey’s eyes sparkled in the low light as she grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Is there any way I can see the finished product?”

“Of course! Here,” Rey handed him her cell phone after unlocking it. “Put your number in and I’ll text you when I finish editing so you can see them.”

“Perfect,” He tapped the screen quickly before calling himself. He handed the phone back. “Now I can send you my horrible iPhone pictures.”

Rey laughed. “I can’t wait to see them.”

“You say that now,” He laughed before backing up. “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” Rey waved as she closed the door and walked up to her apartment where Billie would, no doubt, be waiting for her in the living room to continue their latest binge watch.

•

No, that wasn’t right. The lighting was all off. The layer made Harry’s skin glow but darkened his eyes. Rey rubbed her eyes and deleted the layer. She’d been working on the pictures since that morning—forgoing her usual morning under the tree to get a head start on her project—and it was now nearing ten at night and she was still at it. At least she could see the finish line, now, as she worked on the last picture. The rest were stacked neatly in a folder, printed and ready to go. It was just this last one, Rey’s favorite, that was giving her trouble.

Her phone buzzed on the table in the computer lab. Without looking, she knew it was Harry. He’d been texting her all day beginning with a picture of his yogurt, blueberry, and granola smoothie bowl that morning. Rey still couldn’t figure out why they called it a smoothie if it was really just a parfait, right? She’d sent that thought to Harry, who’d apparently enjoyed a nice laugh, according to all the cry-laughing emoji’s he’d sent back.

Tearing her eyes from the computer screen, she snorted at the message on her phone screen. It was a selfie. Harry’s chin was resting on his fist, his eyes closed tight, with a pouty frown on his face. The text that accompanied it read, ‘when Rey refuses to let you see her pictures even tho you’re the star.’ She shook her head with a grin on her face before snapping her own selfie—a picture of her and the computer, with a tired look on her face that she didn’t have to try too hard on—and replying with a ‘when Rey is a perfectionist and spends all day sitting in a computer chair.’

Barely two seconds passed before her phone buzzed. Harry’s face—courtesy of one of the selfies he’d sent that morning, with his eyes crossed and a smile on his lips—showed up on her screen. She swiped to answer and held the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

“Are you in the lab still?” His voice was strained like he was walking up a hill and couldn’t catch his breath.

“Yeah…”

“Peachy. Byee.” He hung up, leaving Rey staring at her phone screen with an incredulous look on her face. Shaking her head, she placed her phone back on the table before leaning back in her chair to look at the portrait on the screen. Harry was laying in the grass beneath Rey’s favorite tree. His eyes were closed and he had a huge smile on his face, all teeth, that showed off his dimples to full effect. His skin was golden and glowing, his hair windswept, and his clothes perfect for the occasion. You’d be hard pressed to find an occasion on campus where black skinny jeans and a white tee shirt were unacceptable.

Plus, if you looked close enough, you could see Harry’s nipples straining against the threadbare fabric of his shirt. Those were the details that Rey lived for.

Exactly twenty minutes later, as Rey added a layer that accentuated the pink of Harry’s lips, the door swung open hitting the wall behind it and making Rey jump from her seat. Hand on her heart, she turned with a pencil in hand, held in a defensive position as if she was really about to stab someone with it. Rey wasn’t about that life. Unlike Mami, who had once pressed a knife against a stalkers’ throat when he tried to follow her home from work one night. Rey wished she was that badass.

“I come baring food.” Harry grinned and lifted a white plastic bag as if he hadn’t scared Rey half to death.

“Knock next time, bud,” Rey laughed and stood to stretch.

“But then I would’ve missed that cute jump thing you did,” He winked and set the food on an empty table before grabbing Rey by the hand and walking her over. He sat her in one of the chairs before pushing it in towards the table and sitting in the seat across from her. “I made a little something.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Rey said. Her mouth watered as Harry brought two Tupperware bins from the bag. One was filled with white rice and the other with homemade sesame chicken and broccoli. Rey’s stomach rumbled.

“Have you eaten?”

Harry took two plates and two forks from the bag and placed one of each in front of Rey. She shook her head, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but he crossed his arms and raised a brow.

“Really.” He blinked, unamused. “How can you art at the highest level without eating?”

Rey laughed. “You can’t. That’s why I’ve been working on this one picture for almost four hours.”

She nodded her head towards the computer screen and Harry cut his eyes towards the screen for a moment before giving it a second glance. His mouth opened, jaw dropping slightly, before looking at Rey with raised eyebrows.

“That’s amazing.”

She scrunched her nose. “You think so? I can’t get the eyes right.”

“No, it’s perfect,” He said, breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever looked that good in real life.”

“You looked that good yesterday,” Rey giggled. “How else would I have gotten the picture?”

He joined in her laughter. The melodic sound was sweeter than any other Rey had ever heard. If she were only allowed to listen to one sound for the rest of her life, she would choose his laugh. Every time.

“You could have drawn it,” He winked and she knew that he knew. That he’d seen the canvas the day before, somehow, before she and Billie had gotten a chance to hide it.

Rey looked away and cringed. “About that…”

“It’s flattering,” He shrugged one shoulder. “Draw me like one of your French girls and all that.”

She couldn’t keep her laugh from bubbling out. She was glad that she hadn’t taken that moment to sip from the bottle of water that he’d brought her. Could you imagine? Accidentally spitting water on Harry because he knew that she had at least one canvas with his face drawn on it. That would have been the most embarrassing moment of her life. And she lived through her parents chaperoning senior prom.

“Best movie reference ever.” She said through laughter.

“I aim to please,” He winked before tucking into his portion of rice and chicken. They ate in silence for a while, trading glances when the other thought they weren’t looking, and blushing whenever their eyes met. Rey had a permanent smile on her face. By the time they finished eating, she was itching to get back to work on the last portrait. "Can I stay until you finish or do you want me to go so you can focus?"

"No, stay! I'm almost done," She pointed at the bulging folder with the stack of other pictures. "You can look at the other pictures while I finish if you want."

Harry sat in the chair next to Rey and snatched the folder from the desk before leaning back and opening the folder. As she put a few finishing touches on the last picture—which, honestly, looked better than it had before she ate—Harry carefully looked through the fragile prints. Every so often he'd stop and stare at one or gasp when he shuffled to the next one. It made Rey's heart burst.

She clicked print and leaned back in her chair. Exhaling, she turned her head to smile at Harry. He was looking at her incredulously.

"This is amazing," He lifted the folder in the air, careful not to bend the pictures. "You're so good at this."

"Thank you," Rey said softly. She looked away and debated whether she should say what she wanted to or keep it to herself. Before she could overthink it, she looked back at Harry. "This isn't even my preferred medium. I'm more of a canvas and paint kinda gal."

"I'd like to see you work your magic with a paintbrush,"

Rey blushed. "If you're lucky."

"Oh, I hope to be very lucky," He murmured. Leaning into Rey, he smirked as his eyes shifted between her eyes and lips. She licked her lips and all of his attention focused there. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," Rey breathed shakily as Harry leaned closer and closer until their lips barely touched. His were soft, unlike other boys' lips she'd kissed during her time in university, and she was glad for it. Nothing was worse than kissing chapped lips.

He grazed her bottom lip with his teeth and she leaned into him. The feel of his lips on hers was unlike any other. There was a deeper connection there, something bubbling just under the surface, that Rey was eager to discover. She placed her hands on his shoulders and scooted as close as the chair allowed.

Harry sensed that she wanted to be closer and scooped her up into his lap. She maneuvered her legs to straddle his lap as he placed his hands on either side of her face. The kiss had gone from innocent, soft, unsure to rough, primal, passionate. Hands roamed from cheeks to waist to hips to the curves of their backs. Harry held Rey's ass in one hand and her neck in the other. Rey moved closer as if there were any empty space between them.

The only sound in the room were their loud, labored breathing. Harry's lips moved down Rey's jaw to her neck. She squealed when he licked just beneath her ear. She was ticklish.

The doorknob jiggled but the couple couldn't hear it through the haze of lust. Someone cleared their throat and knocked on the door loudly until Harry leaned back from Rey. There was a student worker in the doorway. He didn't look as if he'd just walked in on two people making out.

"Lab's closing," The student worker said in a bored tone before closing the door behind them.

Rey placed her forehead on Harry's as they laughed before gathering up their things and heading home.

•

Rey and Harry walk down the street hand-in-hand as the sun set behind the buildings between them and Harry’s apartment. A month had passed since their first pseudo-date in the computer lab and they’d been inseparable ever since. Sleepovers at each others’ apartments, making out all night, skipping classes to lay tangled in bed talking about everything under the sun. Billie gave them a lecture about responsibility whenever she caught them laying in a makeshift tent in the living room watching movies and sharing sweet, sugary, Reeses’ flavored kisses.

“Billie has people over this weekend,” She murmured.

“Say no more,” He pressed a kiss to her temple as they cut through an alley towards Harry’s apartment. One that he didn’t have to share with any roommates, thanks to his very rich parents. That was the one topic that Rey and Harry hadn’t touched on: her family. She knew that, as soon as he found out that she was struggling, he would try to help her. He would start leaving money around her room or in her backpack or things like that and Rey wasn’t the type of person to accept charity easily. She didn’t want to feel like someone was pitying her.

Especially not if that someone was Harry. He was her boyfriend, not her sugar daddy.

His apartment was bigger than the one she shared with Billie. It was better for creating pillow forts, better for making dinner, and better for painting thanks to the large bay windows in the living room. The appliances were all stainless steel, the cabinets were dark (real) wood, and the countertops were marble. The bathroom matched the kitchen. It also had a rain showered and a bidet, which reminded Rey of her Tia Madrina Norma’s house back in Puerto Rico. The bedroom looked like every minimalistic bedroom picture online. White sheets, white duvet, one picture above the bed (Rey would change that real quick), a leafy, green plant towering in the corner, two silver nightstands, and a matching desk. The warmest room was the living room. A grey couch, dark blue pillows, cream throw blanket, dark wood coffee table sitting atop a dark blue shag carpet, the same silver nightstands from Harry’s room acted as side tables in the living room. Plus, there was a giant tv/video game/sound system on one wall.

Basically it was Rey’s dream apartment, minus the lack of art.

“Pick a movie,” Harry called as he walked into the kitchen.

Rey unzipped her boots and placed them by the front door before taking off her leather jacket and hanging it up on a hook next to the door. Harry’s apartment looked like a Real Adult’s house and it made Rey laugh whenever she thought about it. The first time he brought her over he’d told her that his mom decorated it. It showed. Tucking back into the couch, she tucked the throw blanket around her lap and turned Netflix on.

Their tastes in movies and tv were similar so Rey felt no hesitance in searching for a Nicholas Sparks movie. By the time Harry plopped next to Rey she had the movie on the tv ready for her to press play. He placed a bowl of popcorn in her lap and ripped open a bag of M&M’s before tossing them in with the popcorn.

They’d gone on their fourth date earlier that night. He bought tickets for a local theater performance and then they’d had dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant. All of it felt more like two kids playing house than anything else. But maybe that’s what life was. Everyone just going through, pretending like they knew what they were doing, when in reality nobody knew what was next. What Rey wouldn’t give for a roadmap.

Rey blinked to focus her eyes back on the movie. Twenty minutes had passed, somehow, as she’d thought about the state of her life. Harry placed an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his body. It was strong next to her own and she suddenly felt grounded. More alive than she’d felt in months, since her last visit home.

He turned his head suddenly and caught her staring. A cute blush colored his cheeks as he smiled sweetly. She kneeled on the couch and placed a hand behind his head. With the barest amount of pressure from her fingers, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. Rey leaned back on the couch slowly all the while making sure their lips were connected. He licked her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, her tongue stroking his.

She pressed down on his ass and he laid down on her with most of his weight being supported by one of his arms holding onto the side of the couch. The feel of his hard dick against her thigh made her bite his bottom lip. He grunted against her lips and trailed his other hand over her stomach. That’s when she broke the kiss. Not because she wanted to, but because she was ticklish and he touched one of her weak points.

Harry’s eyes were molten when she looked back up at him. They were darker than she’d ever seen them; nearing the color of the ocean on a stormy day. He flexed his hand and wrapped it around her hip before dragging her body against his. She ground her hips up against his and wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt like she was sixteen again dry humping with her crush in a dark corner of the gym during the Homecoming dance.

“Is this okay?” He murmured against her lips. His hands were on the buttons of her blouse. Rey nodded scared to speak just in case a moan would escape. God. All they were doing was dry humping and she was already gone.

His long fingers grazed her skin as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt. She squirmed beneath him wishing he would just hurry up and take her clothes off. There was no need to take three minutes to take someone’s shirt off like, no.

As soon as her shirt was unbuttoned, she sat up and reached her hands underneath Harry’s white tee-shirt to whip it up over his body and toss to the side. Biting her lip, she grazed her fingers down his torso. Leaning closer, she reached her tongue out to lick the planes of his stomach. He shuddered and unbuttoned his jeans so fast. While he stood to remove them, Rey did the same. Within moments they were tangled on the couch again hands and lips roaming.

“Oh,” She groaned, feeling him lick his way from her neck up to her ear. She gripped onto his side before pushing him away. “Condom.”

Without so much as a reply, Harry hopped off the couch and ran back into his room. When he walked back into the living room, in all his naked splendor, he had a fist full of condoms and a cocky smile on his face.

“Are we doing a sex marathon?” Rey nodded at his hand and laughed.

“That’s up to you,” He winked, opened one of the packages, and rolled the condom over his hard dick. Rey’s mouth watered but there would be time for blowjobs later.

Harry laid on top of Rey and they continued their make out session. Before long, it was all biting and licking and touching. When he placed his fingers against her clit for the first time, Rey gasped. She’d been so distracted by his tongue licking around her nipples that she hadn’t thought to pay attention to what his hands were doing.

Reaching out to return the favor, Rey pumped his dick in her hand and felt as his body shuddered. He reached down and moved her hand away from his dick to position it in front of her entrance. Neither of them could wait any longer.

The first feeling of his dick against her pussy was like nothing she’d ever felt. With her past boyfriends, sex had just been something for their benefit. With Harry, he already had her careening towards orgasm and they’d barely gotten started. He held onto her hips as he slid slowly inside her. Rey’s head tipped back as Harry’s dick filled her up perfectly.

It was when he licked his fingers and rubbed them against her clit that she lost it. Completely. Lost. It. She moaned without a care or thought to Harry’s neighbors—a lovely older lady next door and a family of four upstairs. The only thing Rey cared about was the way his fingers felt against her skin.

He pulled out slightly before pushing back in a little rougher. With each thrust he began going faster and faster. It drove Rey wild. She pulled on his neck because she needed to feel his lips on hers. The combination of the kisses, his fingers on her clit, and his dick inside her took her over the edge. She screamed out loud before Harry could cover her mouth with his to stifle the noise. Moments later, his head tilted back and he grunted as he came.

“Let me take a nap before round two,” Rey said through a yawn. Harry giggled as Rey pressed her back to his front. He held her close to his body and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Rey couldn’t believe Harry was still half-hard, poking against the back of her thigh. She tingled between her legs and, without thinking, turned in his arms and stole a kiss. Harry’s hands reached down to her ass and brought her as close as possible to his body. His dick twitched against her pussy as Harry kissed down the column of her neck.

They did, in fact, use all of those condoms that night.

•

If Billie thought Harry and Rey were inseparable before, after that day? Well, they may as well have been conjoined twins. Harry waited outside of Rey’s classes with her favorite coffee. Rey sat outside Harry’s lectures as she completed the homework that didn’t require extensive supplies. And that was on days where they even went to class.

At the moment, Rey was taking advantage of Harry sleeping in her bed to continue her final project for her visual arts class. It was, unsurprisingly, a portrait of Harry. She was barely beginning the work, she’d just finished drawing it on the canvas, but she already knew it would be her favorite of the Harry Series, as the man himself had taken to calling them. Rey smiled. She couldn’t have asked for someone better to enter her life. He understood her completely and encouraged her. It’s what she needed.

She sat with a canvas atop a tarp on the floor. After opening the paints, she took her time mixing the greens to the perfect color. She knew that green by heart, now. She decided to start with the base color of the eyes and work her way out.

By the time Harry woke, she’d been working for nearly thirty minutes. The base of his face was complete but she’d stopped since she couldn’t decide if she wanted him to be clothed or naked. Should she share the intimate knowledge she had of his tattoos with the world (ok, it was just her class but) or should she keep it to herself? He yawned drawing her from her thoughts.

“That’s one good looking dude.” He laughed.

Rey joined in on his laughter before looking from the canvas to Harry.

"Wanna help?" She smirked as she dragged her eyes over the exposed skin of his torso that peeked out from under the thin blanket on her bed. Just knowing that he was naked underneath made her mouth water. Knowing how perfectly her lips fit around his dick…the thought seemed to go straight from her mind to between her legs.

He stood, in all his naked glory, and his dick ended up nearly in Rey’s face. Biting her lip, she sat up on her knees and licked up the underside.

“Fuck,” The word was ripped from his throat as he almost fell backwards onto the mattress. She pressed a hand to his thigh, squeezing it to feel the muscle beneath, and sucked the tip of his dick before sitting back on her feet. He looked down, dazed, before leaning the canvas against the wall. When he came back, he grabbed Rey’s hand and led her to lay on the tarp. The leftover paint was cold against her skin but she didn’t care.

All she knew was she needed him, now.

•

When Rey woke that cold, foggy morning in November it was to Harry sliding a finger up and down her spine. Goosebumps erupted on her arms as she registered the feeling. The clock read eleven thirty nine am. She’d missed an art history lecture and Harry missed a finance lecture. But both knew the powerpoint information was already on the class’ website. She stretched and nuzzled towards Harry’s shoulder. The freezing tip of her nose pressed against the warm skin of Harry’s shoulder made him shiver.

“Morning, beautiful,” Harry whispered. He pressed a kiss to the top of Rey’s head. She wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. Everything about the past few months since they started dating felt like a dream. With Harry by her side Rey no longer struggled to paint. In fact, she was knocking out between three and five large canvas paintings a week, depending on how busy she and Harry were in their extracurricular activities.

“Morning,” She said. Rey lifted her head to press a kiss to Harry’s chin. He ducked his head down to graze her lips with his. Before long Rey was straddling his hips with her hands in his hair. He brushed his lips across her cheek, on her jaw, and down her neck making her giggle. The sound disappeared as soon as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the spot directly below her ear. She leaned her head back in pleasure as he sucked on her neck. He enjoyed giving hickeys and she enjoyed receiving them.

A moan burst from her throat as one of Harry’s hands snuck back to grip her ass while he nibbled on her ear. That was Rey’s new routine. Wake up beside Harry, have sex, and then paint. Sometimes she’d even make it to her afternoon classes. She placed her hands on the back of his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. It was silky and she couldn’t get enough of running her hands through it.

Harry set a foot on the bed and rolled so that he was on top of Rey. She bit her lip and looked at him with a smirk. Before she could register what was going on, he was pressing kisses down her body. Her breath left her body in an abnormal rhythm as she arched her back and moaned. Harry got to her thighs and paused. She leaned up on her elbows after registering the loss of contact.

He was looking at her pussy like it was the last morsel of food on Earth and he was starving. Like it held all the answers in the universe. Like it was the only thing keeping Harry afloat. Rey watched as he lowered his head to blow on her clit. The air on her slick skin made her shiver with anticipation. He pressed a hand to her lower stomach, knowing that she was more than just a little ticklish, before lowering his mouth to press a kiss just above where she wanted it most.

A whine sounded from Rey’s throat and Harry chuckled. His laugh sounded rough, gravelly, and it only made her want him more. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re taking too lon…” Rey’s voice trailed off as Harry pressed his mouth to her clit. Her arms gave out a moment later and she plopped back down into the pillows. “Oh, God.”

Harry laughed against her sensitive skin, the vibrations giving another dimension to the sensation, and Rey gasped. She felt like she was wound too tight, like all she needed was for Harry to stick a finger inside her, to fill her so she could come undone.

As if he could read her mind, he thrust one finger, and then a second, inside her as he sucked harder on her clit. Squealing, Rey squirmed beneath the hand that was holding her against the bed. If it wasn’t there she may have twisted and turned until she fell off the bed. The sensation was too strong and she couldn’t handle it for much longer.

“Fuck me,” She whispered. Grabbing Harry’s shoulder, she tried to pull him up her body but he resisted. He pumped his fingers inside her faster and faster and sucked on her clit until she screamed. Her orgasm came as a full body reaction. Toes curled, head thrown back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, hand covering her mouth to muffle the moans, back arched.

When she opened her eyes again a few moments later, stars floated on the ceiling as she struggled to catch her breath.

Harry’s arrogant smirk was the first thing she saw when she ripped her eyes away from the ceiling. She glared.

“Don’t be like that,” He caressed down her cheek. She could smell herself on his hand. Reaching a hand up, she gripped the back of his neck and brought his face to hers. The kiss was rough. Rey bit Harry’s bottom lip and dragged it with her as she leaned back. He retaliated by licking in her mouth, making sure she could taste herself on his tongue, before sucking on her bottom lip. When she had enough of the teasing, she reached back and handed him a condom from the nightstand. After quickly rolling it on, he tossed the package somewhere behind him.

They looked at the apex of her thighs, the space Harry kneeled between, his dick just inches from the place they both desperately wanted it to be. Rey licked her lips and reached a hand up to her chest. Tweaking one of her nipples, she moaned to urge Harry on. He placed his hands on her hips and dragged the tip of his dick up and down her folds. The warmth encouraging him to enter.

Tired of the games, Rey placed a hand on Harry’s ass and squeezed. His hips jerked forward unintentionally and Rey gasped as he slowly entered her. So that’s how he wanted to play. He wanted slow, Rey could do slow.

Reaching a hand up to his face, she smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple. Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he laid his head on her shoulder and took a long, shuddering breath before moving his hips again. Slowly, a rhythm slower than they’d ever attempted during sex before, and it hit Rey as she stared into Harry’s beautiful, bright green eyes.

This was love.

When people spoke about making love, this is what they meant. Feeling like you could spend all day, all night—the rest of your life, even—stuck in this embrace. Knowing that the person you were sharing that moment with could be the person you would share the rest of your life with. Realizing that everyone that had come before Harry had just been practice for this. Trial and error that led her to the love of her life.

A tortured gasp wrenched itself from deep in Rey’s throat. Harry leaned forward to press his lips to hers in the softest kiss they’d shared. His breath was erratic against her lips. She ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the shorter pieces at the bottom, and pressed a kiss to his chin. Harry growled and started thrusting faster.

“Yes,” The word passed Rey’s lips without her even realizing it. She grit her teeth and reached a hand out to grip the sheets. Harry hitched one of her legs over his hip to reach deeper within her. The noise Rey made next couldn’t be described. It was a moan, but it was also a scream. It was a growl, but it was also a whine. It was something altogether new that neither had ever heard before.

The sound of skin meeting skin echoed throughout Harry’s apartment.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry chanted as he tried to angle Rey’s hips in the perfect way. He was close. She could see the glint in his eye and feel his dick twitching inside her. She wanted them to come together. A symbolic gesture of their love.

She wasn’t ready, but she would be. Reaching a hand down to her clit, she quickly brought herself to the edge. When Harry noticed what she was doing, he replaced her hand with his. His steady rhythm turned erratic as his hips and hand struggled to continue while he held off his orgasm until he heard her first gasp. Her head shook from side to side as the feeling took over her entire body. It was like a wave crashing. The beginning, as the wave grew tall, was the build up: the tingling, kisses in unexpected places, and soft moans. The wave racing towards the shoreline was the middle: erratic, loud, impatient. And the end, when the wave finally crashed against your feet, was the best part: the back arching, screaming, tingles that gave way to pulsing sensations deep in Rey’s core. It was those sensations that finally brought Harry over the edge, too, as he came with a roar before his elbow gave out and he fell half on Rey’s body, half on the bed.

They stared in each others’ eyes for a long time. Rey debated whether it was the right time to confess her feelings. Should she tell Harry that she loved him after only four months? Was she in love with him? It could have been a heat of the moment feeling. Was it love or did he just give good dick?

But then he smiled and she knew. She loved him.

•

They stayed in bed all day talking. They’d covered favorite superheroes, movies, childhood cartoons, and books before falling into a comfortable silence. Rey had a leg hiked over Harry’s torso while he kept one arm around her back the other on his stomach, lazily running his fingers up and down her arm.

“Tell me about your family,” He whispered.

Rey hid her face in his chest and shook her head. He leaned back to look in her eyes.

“I want to know everything about you,”

She took a moment to consider what to do. She thought about what they’d just shared, the knowledge that she loved him already, and knew that telling him about her baggage was the least she could do. Even if she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide bitterness that came when she spoke about her family.

“My family isn’t…like yours,” Rey sighed and sat up. The blanket slid down her torso exposing her bare breasts. She ran a hand through her hair before turning slightly to face Harry. “We don’t vacation in the south of Spain or buy three hundred dollar jeans or go out for dinner every day. We struggle. We’ve struggled as far as I can remember.”

Harry placed a hand on Rey’s knee but stayed silent. She was glad. For so long she’d ignored the realities of her family and the situation they have been in for decades—centuries, even—and it felt cathartic to just let it all out. To talk to someone who wasn’t family or Billie, who was technically family at this point, because they would just tell Rey that things would get better. Don’t worry, Rey, once you’re a big time artist we’ll be fine. Don’t worry, amor, we’re hard workers and we’ll make it.

But what if they didn’t? What if, despite how hard they worked, it didn’t get better? Nothing was promised. And that whole ‘pick-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps’ mentality was bullshit. Mami had worked three jobs until getting a full time position when Rey was ten and they were still poor. So fuck your bootstraps.

“My mom works nearly sixty hours a week. She goes two weeks without a day off, sometimes more, just so that I can be here.” Rey took a deep, shuddering breath. Her voice broke and chin wobbled as she fought the tears. “This isn’t just the beginning of the rest of my life. It’s the beginning of the rest of my families’ lives.”

“I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under.”

She sniffled and turned to face him head on, her legs crossed and hands in her lap, she never thought she’d be comfortable sitting naked with someone. But there Harry was. And not only was she comfortable with him, he knew exactly what to say to comfort her. Like he’d been built especially for her.

Looking down at her lap, she smiled. Harry sat up and mimicked her position.

“I wouldn’t trade them for the world, though. Despite the pressure, and the expectations, I wouldn’t be who I am without them.”

He leaned forward, placed a hand behind her neck, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes and exhaled. With it left all of the tension from her body.

“Tell me more about them. What is your mum like?”

“Mami is a loose cannon. Sometimes she’ll say things that are kind of…off the wall but she’s the most loyal person I know. She’s so friendly, too. She can walk into an elevator and walk out two minutes later with three new friends.” Rey grinned. “She’s my best friend.”

From there, the pair spent hours talking about Rey’s family members. She told Harry about Titi Milta’s glass eye, playing dominos with her Tio Luis, and all about the food that her family came together to make during the holidays. Rey nuzzled Harry’s shoulder while he ran a hand over her hair before laying it on the small of her back.

“You should visit for Christmas,” Rey yawned. “I can get you drunk off coquito and we can watch my cousins light fireworks and…”

Harry looked down at Rey when she didn’t continue speaking only to find that she’d fallen asleep. Silly girl. She was always falling asleep on him. He pressed a long kiss to her temple before looking down at her.

“I love you, Rey,” He whispered.

#1dff #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfction #this is like 90% smut but #i love it lmao it was so much fun to write #something something art school au

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pojkflata · 7 years ago

Note

all of them for embla!

I’m skipping questions that aren’t applicable

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Embla Blomqvist. Embla means elm tree, and it’s also the name of the first woman in Norse mythology. It might not have an apparent meaning at the surface, but who knows? Maybe it’ll be significant at some point?

Blomqvist means flower-twig, continuing the plant theme. And with such a strong plant theme in her name, her personality and the fact that she’s a changeling, you’d think she’d be a log changeling, but she is in fact a troll changeling with a somewhat ironic name. Part of why I chose it was because rhytmically, it flows pretty well because of the two ‘bl’-sounds, at least if u ask me

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Her childhood was… decent. She grew up somewhat detached from people, and not always by choice, but she also didn’t have anything to compare with, so she didn’t actively suffer either. Things got better when she met Berri, tho

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

This is where things get… complicated. Berri kind of acts like a parental figure, but aside from him, the closest thing Embla has to a parent is her adoptive mother who is not ideal. The mother is married to her job and constantly overachieves even though money is not an issue at all, so she usually leaves Embla to her own devices and has done so on a regular basis from a very young age.

Embla never met her biological parents and they are kind of an enigma. It’s hard for even me to pin them down, so let’s just say they’re kind of all over the place morally speaking

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

During the events of TFTF, Embla has just graduated 8th grade. Again, she’s not super good unfortunately. She does pick up a lot of facts and trivia, but she’s bad at contextualizing it in a lot of situations, meaning her school performance suffers. Her grades hover around Es and Ds depending on the subject, maybe a few Cs sometimes. Not sure what her fave subject is but she dislikes math and science in particular

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

She doesn’t have a lot of friends but she likes it that way. She’s kind of a loner and people around her respect that without ignoring her (god I wish that were me). But at the beginning of TFTF, she has two close friends in Aminah and Berri, and she befriends more in the Faelands.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

It probably doesn’t count but with some good will, you can consider Berri to be a pet. She does like animals, dogs in particular.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

It’s a 50/50 thing. Some animals like her, but some are frightened by her.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

She’s not super fond of infants, but she definitely likes older kids and she’d probably like to have kids in the future!

12. What is their favourite food?

Okay so under normal circumstances, Embla usually eats very simple foods that somebody her age can easily cook, she is fond of anything fancy since those foods are kinda rare in her life

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

When Embla first met Tristan, one of the first things he did was offer her a freshly killed rabbit bc well, Tristan’s quirky like that. Embla initially declined but then reluctantly accepted the rabbit

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

She’s decent, as I said she cooks on a regular basis. She doesn’t really cook for others, tho

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

She likes anything that’s engaging honestly, no matter the genre

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

If she’s in the mood, yeah? But since she’s rather stoic, she doesn’t do much more than just bob her head to a song she likes

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

She’s p patient, but if she’s pushed enough, her usual reaction involves rambling and yelling

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

Embla is p feisty actually! If you annoy her or do something she doesn’t think makes sense, she will make jokes at your expense and snark at u

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Her memory is okay in most ways except faces, she can be awful at faces.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

She’s average I guess, she doesn’t usually remember her dreams, she doesn’t snore and she prefers soft mattresses

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

She thinks it’s fun to make fun of ppl, not in a malicious way, but when she thinks they need to be taken down a notch. So some think her humor is a lil mean spirited

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

She might hum sometimes, but as I said before, she’s p stoic. Not that she hides emotion, but she just doesn’t show clear signs of emotion all the time

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

She’ll usually just stay quiet when she’s particularily sad

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

She was initially pretty scared of the idea of going to the Faelands because yeah, her life may not be perfect, but she didn’t know what’d await her in the Faelands and she didn’t like the idea of giving up everything she’d known and stuff

She doesn’t really fear a lot after coming over it though

She gets kinda shaky and talks fast if she’s scared

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

Okay that kinda depends

Tristan is scared of corvids because valravn are a thing in the Faelands. Embla understands why somebody would be wary of murder ravens, but when Tristan’s fear gets the best of him and he jumps at the slightest sign of corvid activity with no way to prove it’s caused by valravn, Embla will tease him

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

She might take a stroll sometimes, and that’s so light of an exercise that she doesn’t have any special preparations or aftercare for it

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

She’s a minor, so nah

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

She wears p casual, plain clothing, usually in muted dull colors since bright colors tend to hurt her eyes.

She usually just wears her underwear to bed, she doesn’t wear makeup except on special occasions. Her hair is elbow-length and she usually doesn’t do anything special with it

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Lacey, most of the time. Also sport bras

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

She’s 173cm/5′8′’ and kind of average body type wise. She does have a soft tum though! Her self image fluctuates but it’s not bad, she might be a little insecure over her tum from time to time but she usually recovers quickly

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

She’s like. Real good physically speaking. Not that she’s athletic or anything, but in the Faelands she has to take some punches and she takes them alright, and learns to dish some out as well

Her hobbies involve the kinda stuff you’d see a contemporary teen enjoy, stuff like movies and video games, sometimes she likes casually enjoying nature.

She can sing, she’s average, she doesn’t really enjoy singing a lot.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

She’s a p slow reader, and she is inclined to fictional stuff.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

She absolutely admires Aminah’s intelligence and she wishes she were closer to her level.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

She prefers emails and IMs

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

She’ll usually just go for a soda for her caffeine fix.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Embla is bi. She doesn’t have any real preferences physically, but she does like people with soft fluffy hair. Mentally, she’s attracted to kind, brave people, and she 100% needs a partner who makes her feel loved and cared for that poor baby girl

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Her main goal is to find Aminah, since she’s gotten lost in the Faelands. She does get involved with helping others reach their goals too. She’s super loyal and her devotion to her friends can reach shonen protagonist levels sometimes

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

She’s not religious per se, and her opinions on religion boil down to “one of my best friends is a talking winged cat-dragon, this world can be so fucking weird that I can see why somebody would want to contextualize it with faith, you do you”

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

She doesn’t have any strong preferences, as long as it’s not sunny she’s happy. Sunlight doesn’t hurt her per se, but she gets sunburns p easily and it can make her somewhat sluggish.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

People will usually see Embla as a loner, sometimes they think of her as hostile due to her wit, but she believes herself to just be an average joe

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

Again, her wit might leave a bad taste in some people’s mouths, that or they might think of her as a stick in the mud. Yeah, those impressions aren’t too accurate

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

God she avoids formal stuff like the plague

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

If she’s in the mood, yeah she might, but she’s still an introvert at heart and might just hang out on the sides with friends she already knows, and that still applies if she was forced to tag along.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

She did this in canon! She packed clothes, basic hygiene equipment, a water bottle and a knife

#sorry this took so long lol #oc stuff #tftf #long post -#nboy

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putaloadintrucks · 8 years ago

Text

From hell to paradise

“You’re no son of mine”

Shayne winced softly. It hadn’t been a good week so far for him. After being fired from his last job farther up state, he had been pulled over in V8 Valley for speeding. Lucky for him, the cop there had given a very different and…pleasurable… way to avoid the ticket. The cop had even given him the address to the station afterwards when he had told him about his job situation. It had been.. nice of him to do so and Shayne had really appreciated that he been thoughtful enough of a stranger to do so (Of course, just the thought of the cop made Shayne’s engine flutter, but that was something else entirely) Afterwards he had rushed to make it home, tired from everything that had happened and just wanting a chance to relax before plunging back into the job markets. Of course, it had even gone further down hill from there, as his mom had not been pleased to see him. Not that she was ever pleased to see him it seemed, but she had been really not happy at all when he had come home. It never ended well for him when she was really pissed.

“But mom” he started to say, earning a hard smack on his hood from the older mustang, an angry glare in her eyes as she growled at the Mustang

“Don’t mom me, you disgusting piece of shit” threatened his mom, the sound of a tire hitting a fender sounded again, a whimper escaping from Shayne as he eyes his caved in Fender. That was gonna suck later to get out, if his mom didn’t kill him right here and now. “You have failed me as a child. Not only getting yourself fired, but I have been hearing certain things from around town. About how a certain fox body has been getting awfully close to the men of this town. You have anything to say, faggot?” she growled, pushing Shayne up against the wall, a whimper escaping from him as his moms blue eyes narrowed at him.

“Mom I swear, I didn’t-“he tried to say, push a rough shove and the sound of a mirror snapping of his body quickly shut him up.

“You are not allowed to speak; I’ve had it up to here with your antics. You are a lazy fucker who can’t seem to hold a job to save your pathetic life, BUT now it seems you are a faggot as well. Do you enjoy sucking their cocks huh? I bet you are selling yourself on the streets at this point” she uttered, earning a whimper from Shayne as he felt his fenders slowly push in on themselves, the force against the wall causing his body to softly creak under the pressure. He wanted it to stop, all of it. His mom had never been this angry before, and now he was generally worried he might die here.

“Mo-om, please, You-u’re hurting me” whined Shayne, tears forming in his eyes as his mom gave another shunt, the dry wall behind him cracking as a result.

“You don’t get to call me that, I want you out of this house” she said angrily, pushing the fox body towards the door with a hard shunt, his grill bending inwards from the impact as he whimpered.

“But But” he whined, the glare being given off from his mom just making him whimper as he slowly rolled backwards to the door

“OUT!” She screamed chucking a lamp at Shayne, the lamp bouncing off his hood with a loud clang as tears flowed from his eyes. He barreled himself through the door as his mother continued to throw things at him, screaming and yelling coming from the home as he barreled down the road. His motor rumbled widely as he drove down the road, tears freely flowing from his eyes at this point as tried to get as far away from his house as possible. His dented and abused body rattling softly as panels loosed in the abuse rattled in the fast wind speeds.

He just wanted to get as far as away as possible.

After a certain period, He pulled to the side off the road, away from the eyes of passing motorists as he whimpered. It just wasn’t fair, it had never been fair to the little car for as long as he could remember. Job from job, boyfriend to boyfriend, nothing had ever managed to stick with him. No matter what he tried, it seemed like giving his all just led to more and more failure. He was tired, oh so very tired of all of it, from the abuse to the failings, and he did not know how much more he could do with it anymore it seemed.

His tires softly unfolded the paper the cop had given him, a crudely written address starring back at him. Maybe a change of scenery was best in order, somewhere with fewer cars to judge him and his attitude. Plus the cop had been cute. His engine rumbled softly at the thought of him, his oil fuel pump pumping as he thought more of him.

Yes, Maybe a Scenery change was exactly in order.

---

“Dodger, tell me the truth, how many this time?”

“Well, I mean Vic, there wasn’t- Okay stop glaring at me, It was like three. They wanted a good time, I gave it to them”

The Inline Fuel stop and Café was busy during this type of day, the season in full gear for tourists as they came all over the country to see the beautiful peaks and trees of the surrounding lands. Trees and flowers where flourishing in the beautiful landscape and many a vehicle where taking pictures or camping along the hiking trails that crisscrossed the land scape. The sky made the valley even more perfect at the time, No a cloud in sight and the rich clear blue of the sky settled the scenery nicely. Over all it was a beautiful day, and many vehicles, from the tiniest beetle to the largest Helicopter where buzzing around, taking full advantage of the gorgeous opportunity.

With the increase of vehicles, came an increased workload for the limited stations around the valley, and two cops from a nearby station where currently on break, after having to deal with a rather large accident earlier.

“God damnit Dodger, How is this station gonna make money if you keep fucking and letting go the speeders” grumbled a larger vehicle, a Suburban to be more precise. The white, blue, and red of his body framed him nicely, with the words Sheriff painted clearly on his hood and sides near his police stripes.

“Hey now Vic, I don’t fuck all of them.. Just a lot of them. ”mused the other cop known as Dodger. His smaller form, that of a Caprice, was decked out in the colors of a deputy, the black and white color scheme softly shining in the sunlight.

“You fuck enough of them that I am getting worried, sometimes I wonder why I hired you” grumbled Vic, nursing a cold can of Grape oil as Dodger cackled.

“Cause you hired my brother, and when you hire one, you get the other” stated Dodger, grinning as his sipped his warm can of Cherry oil, all the while cheekily grinning up at his boss.

“Don’t remind me” Vic mused, mumbling softly about deviant behavior as Dodger blew a Raspberry at him. The sat in silence for a few minutes, nursing their drinks as the traffic coming in and out of the café grew larger, the afternoon crowd coming in for the day.

“Any luck on finding a dispatcher? I know ya have been having issues finding one since the last one quit” asked Dodger, earning a grumble from Vic as he pushed away his drink.

“No , No one’s applied since that thieving bitch left. I swear, it’s like cars are avoiding applying here like the plague or something “growled Vic as he stomped down on his empty can, the metal crushing easily under his weight.

“Maybe our luck will change? I mean the city is thinking of sending a officer up here during the season to help with all the bullshit, maybe will get a dispatcher as well?” mused Dodger as Vic shook his hood.

“Honestly, I doubt we will see that officer. Apparently the head honcho down at their police department is being a prick about it” he said, sighing softly as a waitress removed the can, sliding a new one towards Vic before moving onto other customers.

“Eh you never know, someone could come right now from that road and ask for the dispatcher job” said Dodger, giggling softly as Vic gave a sigh and went to his new drink. Both went back to their drinks, not noticing Shayne slowly pulling into the café, spotting the two cops as he did so. He slowly drove towards them, his mind racing as he pulled up to them. Vic was the first one to notice, eyeing the fresh dents and broken grill, raising an eye ridge in the process.

“You look like shit kid” he muttered as Dodger looked over the Fox Body, his eyes lighting up in recognition as Shayne gave a soft smile towards Dodger.

“ Nice too see ya back, you know when you are not speeding through here like a Plymouth outta hell” stated Dodger, earning a soft giggle from the Mustang as Vic looked at Dodger with a puzzled look.

“Th-hanks, I gu-uess?” Shayne said, stuttering softly as he pulled out the piece of paper. “ Im, uh, here about the j-job you told me about?” he said softly, earning a cackle as Dodger nudged Vic.

“Told ya” he said simply, earning a sigh from Vic as he softly rubbed at his eyes.

“God damnit Dodger” muttered Vic as he looked over the Mustang, Shayne wiggling softly under the much larger Vehicles gaze as he sank himself towards the ground, nervous as all hell as the Suburban looked him over. “You applying to be a dispatcher?” he asked, earning a quick Nod from the Mustang

“ Ye-es Sir!” he stated, giving the Suburban a quick salute with his antenna, earning himself a giggle from Dodger and an eye roll from Vic.

“Fuck, Guess beggars can’t be chooser I suppose. You’re hired kid, head down to the station so we can start the bullshit that is paperwork” grumbled Vic as he crushed the second can flat and drove away from the two, leaving Dodger and Shayne at the café.

“Welcome to hell kid” grinned Dodger, giving Shayne’s grill a lick as the Stang sputtered. “Get yourself patched up, than I can show you the ropes~” he said with a smirk and a wink, Shayne’s hood turning an even deeper red from the blush that was quickly engulfing it. Dodger cackled, reversing away and back onto the road, leaving the Mustang to sit there, a wild blush on his body as the cars around him chuckled at the scene. All the while, He had the biggest and goofiest grin on his bumper. That had been surprisingly easier than he thought and he couldn’t wait till start as soon as possible. An added bonus was that he was gonna be close to the Caprice, which made his fuel plump flutter at the thought.

It was gonna be good here, and he know it deep down in his engine that he was gonna enjoy himself in this beautiful valley.

#OC: Shayne #Backstory #Cars #Cars Fandom #Pixar Cars

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jibootaes · 8 years ago

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hello i am here for the *cough cough* bts ask shit-thing :)))) so um like 2, 4, 6❗❗❗❗❗, 8, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16❗❗❗❗ (i enjoy to see you suffer cc: ), 21, 23❗❗❗, 24, 25❗❗, 26, 28❗, and 29 - love you, aoibheee

kassy i know for a fact that you’ve given me hard questions i sware,,,, anyWAY THANK U BABE HERE WE GO

2. describe is detail the moment where you fell in love with your bias(es)?

wHOOO so here we go lads strap yourselves in this is gonna be a wild ride. sooo, as u maybe know kass i was v deeply in love with the piece of food we call googie (jungkook that lil shit) @ first bc this boy was my first introduction to bangtan. he was the first person that caught my attention (the first vid i watched was dope so yeah he was in a police uniform and he just looked so good i literally pointed @ the screen and was like “YOU”) he was just go good-looking and charismatic an d fuck the slut was cute ok. the first pics i saw of him did not help with my utter infatuation like seriously look how could u not fall in love:

so yeah my infatuation with jungkook was not short lived but dUN DUN DUN HELLO BIAS WRECKER

taehyung slid into my dms abt two months after i had discovered bangtan anD THEN THE FATEFUL SHIP TAEKOOK,,, he was literally not there one second and i was having a peaceful relationship w kookie and then fuckiNG BAM here’s this cute lil peach with the prettiest smile ive ever seen and a laugh i would like to be played @ my funeral and literally the best personality and voice ive ever seen or heard like please taehyung if you’re reading this pls marry me bb

so yeah now taehyung is my ultimate bias of all of kpop im just so in love with him. everything abt him just makes me want to pick him up and eat him like please taehyung jUST I LOVE U. i hope this answers the question lol im just all over the place bc i love him sm :(((( well the moment i fell in love w him was p much when i was rewatching the boy in luv and war of hormone mvs and i just stared rlly hard @ him and was like?? yes thank u?? ill explain more in the next question lmaO

4. the moment you knew you wanted to commit to them

anYWAY yeah i had a brief tussle between jk and tae, many arguments in my head but like i specifically remember the moment i decided taehyung was my bias- i was sitting up in my bed and it was abt 11 pm and i was looking @ the boy in luv music mv for like probably the seven hundredth time and he just appeared w his cute orange hair and his deep voice and i just snapped inside and everything inside me melted idk i jUST LOVE MY BOY TAEHYUNG KASS U KNOW THIS

all his awkward and endearing moments definitely made me fall for him even more, especially in the early days of knowing bangtan. i watched all the “v vs. awkward moments” like over and over and i just new that i was head over heels for him even tho i was trying to deny it bc i was adamant for jk to be my ult bias for a while lol

one of the moments specifically!! the one where they’ve won a cruise ship and the presenters are trying to tell him whats happened and hes just so confused and blank anD SO FUCKING CUTE and hes just like?? u wot m8?? and like the presenter’s like “cruise.. travel.. hAPPY” anD HE’S JUST LIKE “WOW” o my god i love him so much dont evennnnn

6. favourite kimdaily and why?

GIRL WHAT YOU TRYNA DO THIS IS HARD,,, so ummmmmmmm dear god whICH ONE

probs this one?? its just his outfit is so cute and i love those trousers on him and namjoon!! in!! beanies!! and a pink one @ that!! i fucking agree!! and wow hes so pretty in shirts like that and just everything in this pic = perfection,, im probably missing so many kimdailys but this is the one that came to mind so ye!! i love namjoon!! whatta boY!!

(this one’s also iconic,, minions who? i only know namjoon. legends only.)

8. favourite eatjin moment and why?

oml def that time jk joined in and they were making noises and doing “interpretive dance” to say how the “food made them feel” and they just went so insane that namjoon heard them and like came into the room and they stopped immediately and sat there lookin innocent while namjoon was like “what’s going on?” and jin was like “nothin dear go away ur hearing things” i sWARE THESE BOYS IM SO :’)

9. how did you feel when yoongi released his mixtape?

does this explain? but no seriously that boy set me on fire that shit was so gooD and he deserved all the praise he got for his hard work and perseverance!! i love min yoongi :(

10. when did you realise that you’re in too deep?

i think it was the moment i watched bangtan bombs and interviews with no eng subs and just smiled so wide and laughed my ass off with them even though i had no idea what the hell they were talking abt?? and also when anyone asked me what i would want for christmas for for my birthday or anything like that and it was literally just like “buy me bangtan merch please”. o and when i forced my my mum and my grandpa to watch three whole episodes of eatjin. i loved it.

14. top 5 ‘you’re lame but i love you anyway’ moments?

1. uhhhh so basically all of american hustle life lol but specifically that one moment where taehyung is trying to get across the room while namjoon is having an interview on one side of it, and he just fucking fails @ everything and breaks lights and trips and when he tries to slide back across the room on a fucking skateboard he falls of too and trips again and just namjoon was sO DONE i loved it even tho tae is the lamest person i swear

2. the interview where jin confirmed namjin by telling everyone that namjoon was his celebrity crush, resulting in an awkward dude hug :’)

3. when jin said he rapped just like jay-z and yoongi just fUCKING LOST IT LMAO

4. “win. lose. at the end of the day i still have this face so who’s the real winner here?”

5. when jk sang to that dude on american hustle life and the guy said “i like your voice” and jk replied “yeah, i like you” and the rest of bangtan reacted like it was the fucking best thing in the world oml i lov my idiots

15. the very first moment where you felt their sincere passion for music?

i mean, i always knew they really did love what they were doing, it was apparent just through how they express themselves and how invested they are in getting the music and performances just right.. but i guess it was really during the start of the wings era when i realised how much effort and time and heart that namjoon and yoongi and all of the members put into the lyrics and the whole album. what really hit me was how namjoon told us abt how they all just sat with jk and cried, and how the lyrics of begin really showed his feelings. along with all the lyrics from the wings album, especially their solo songs. it really gave me that feeling of knowing that they completely loved what they were doing and loved it enough to write about their own heartfelt experiences.

16. when was the moment when you felt ‘aw, kook is all grown up now~’?

KASSANDRA I SWEA-

?? why would u make me do this

21. what was the reason the you believed that they would make it big one day?

i think it’s always just their sincerity and hard work and pure talent that got them where they are. they’ve worked and grafted so hard to get to this level, but it was clear to see at the start of their career how much raw talent there was there, either with their fucking lit dancing and different style of music, there’s just something so attractive abt bangtan that you just can’t deny. they are DIFFERENT and i think that’s why so many people love them. also they’re huge dorks and i love them sm :(( also!! their music videos.. damn son. if you want just one reason out of many, there’s one. captivating storylines, amazing music, beautiful boys, beautiful dancing. need i say much more?

23. how did they impact on your life positively?

um, where do i begin??? ok so, first off, i’ve made new friends since discovering bangtan, interent and irl! they have such a huge fanbase its hard not to run into a few people you connect with. also, they have always, ALWAYS made me smile everyday since i found them around a year ago… yes hello i am that sappy stan trademark but like!! my boys!! sunshines of my life!! their music always makes me feel better, i love listening to it until i can sleep at night,, i have found my soulmate too?? mr. kim taehyung?? whatta man?? also a certain min yoongi has made my cry thoughtful, sincere tears with a lot of his lyrics.. i find this positive bc he opened my eyes up to a lot actually? his and namjoon’s lyrics are always hard hitting on a lot of down-to-earth, normal subjects like school and everyday problems. also i’ve found many more posters to fill up my walls with so thats good!! they make me feel all fuzzy ok, i love them :’)

24. were their negatives in stanning them? if there was/were, what were they?

well, there are no negatives that affect me personally really.. i mean i’ve gotten some teasing and stick @ school for like something that’s not essentially “normal”. i mean, i’m from a tiny, tiny town in rural ireland so?? please fourteen year old white boys?? give me your opinions?? bc i need them so much?? tell me how weird it is to listen to korean songs and how i dont know what they’re saying and how shit they are even tho you have never even layed eyes upon them?? :/ it’s really nothing tho, my love for bangtan outshines any hate that i’ve ever received lol

25. what kind of role do you wish to see taehyung act as?

BITCH DONT GET ME STARTED I,,,, so i really want to see him a modern day, possibly bad boy, moterbike riding, leather jacket wearing, cocky ass motherfucker,, please i dont care what type of drama it is really i just need to live out my biker!tae fantasies,, just give me a tae that i can make head canons out of with amazing gifs for backup!! just let my baby boy act his heart out :(((((((((((((((( WITHOUT GETTING MURDERED IM LOOKING @ U HWARANG U FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING I SWEAR IM STILL SO UPSET ???

26. a song of your choice that you wish for any of them to cover?

im sorry im a sinning man but i want to hear taehyung sing strange love by halsey in his sultry, deep voice so i can die peacefully. also?? tae singing death of a bachelor by panic! at the disco?? kill me??

28. most touching/sentimental moment of them

i think just the whole mama 2016 awards? bc they won artist of the year and jk and yoongi and jin just broke down in tears and all i could think abt was how hard they’ve worked and all they’ve been through and how they’ve been dreaming and hoping abt a day like this… and backstage, when namjoon pulled yoongi into that hug… dont even…

29. the proudest moment of them so far

um??? when they fucking literally blasted through the charts with spring day and the whole ynwa album?? stan legends only please?? they’ve gotten so far, everything just makes me proud :(( MY BBY GOOGIE GRADUATED TOO IM

ok dude that’s everything thank u for reading this long monster ;) LOVE YOU TOO KASSY

#thank u babe!!#text #bts ask

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artist-x-j-roman-cain · 8 years ago

Text

Joker’s Wild

My name is super-unknown so I will shoot for the dome Aim through the window pane; leave two frames blown I am not Strange. But I will not change tones Proclaim Roman Reigns in any home Entertain through tomes Enter veins then splinter brains Highest on this sinner plane Center plain or inner sane? No. A soul so cold not even So Co Could help warm; dealt thorns Some have sworn tales, yelling “He’s loco!” “Si y yo soy el lobo feroz” Ferocious flows; ojos rojo Toke and choke on top rank dodo Coca blows? Mi es cabron? Oh no! Blow Coca? Por dinero? Best go hoe! Yo soy Joe Schmoe? Asi-asi? Si puto derecho! Direct foes, “vete a la mierda, conos”! Artista X es el Rey de todos los Reyes Sooth-sayer and smooth player Granuja de platas de lengua Ladies spreading legs, begging me to say yes. Weigh less than many but don’t call me mini Not one to waste pennies Immobile blades, not choppin’ on 20’s Mobile stays paid; minutes got plenty No cash in the bank; gas tank close to empty Yet more retail sells in smells than Scentsy My girl is a fine dime that OG’s envy Eyes green, hairs red plus always wet and sticky Ever leaving; burning and hitting like a heathen But she keeps returning Even after pimping her out for earnings Yearning for touch; by lips or finger tips She’ll learn you quick; bi so no bias when she unzips She flips all day but still chills at night Herb Knight in hempen armor Helping get over bored again Charming prints, used to disarm alarms Prince Charmin to soft; armaments’ armed Minced off the first cut; rinsed off like shit stuck to shoes In truth, I like going overboard and harming Like Carmen, no one knows where to find me Moving timely; double check nobody’s behind me Grinding to shine even when it isn’t Vision remastered after seeing how biz went? To guzzle gents jizz for cents Rather stick a muzzle in my mouth Than ever be asked where my fizz went Dissident miscreant because of medicinal Treants Gorgon like stoning; after all spinach is full of nutrients Beautifully bent; fine line between genius and insanity Underhandedly taking the lead; never mistakenly Make me your nemesis; own worst enemy to y’all I am limitless Illogically break chronological fate with paradoxical Genisys Forget Quicksilver; Wells wished in inventing this Luxury Mercury? Have H.G. mad as a hatter for penning this In lieu of Carrol; songs full of apparel Only autos should be tuned Putting hair pulling bitches on alert Better be careful Have them pissing; scared to twist up fisticuffs Baring tools; afraid to get face to face But I’m very cool; only thing up my sleeve is an Ace Thumping with my trump; then use the same spade to bury fools Joker’s wild; and I’ve been told the same Smoker’s smile plus a laugh cold and insane Broken stiles; never hold a flame to gain change Opening Styles all about showing up the Game At the Helm with a death wish like I’m hunting a hearse DRAC is the realm’s realest; still instilling hurts Curt versus legends or virgins; using perverse verses to abuse With no aversion to cursing this rough draft also the final version Shaft tough? Yes, when driven by me Not black enough to say I’m the bad-dest “shut your mouth…”, you see Keep it juicy; not goosing Lucy Truthfully I’m a prick spelt with a capital D Biggest you’ll meet; and above average in meat No need for lies; I know I satisfy Don’t believe me honey then come and see Relieve your cunny, have you cum a sea Endless returns like it’s my company Charge your Chakra; currently cum for free Currency for free milk? Then you can go ahead and get stepping permanently Ash into your urn Every sentence further sentencing eternity Hurting disconcertingly Adverting attacks; not possible when concerning me Genuine article Smashing particles like the Hadron at CERN discerning Emcees Splitting atoms While batting back at’em; scat’em like a cat. Kill every vermin I see Shivering cowards While stylishly delivering streets sermons for fees River of power That is, a strong flow with undertow current; currently Amped up Have them clammed shut; in bomb shelters like the emergency Is national But it’s natural to run urgently when faced by the beast from the murky deep Heard of me? Or been hurt by me? Try me when unworthy and meet A brief defeat By these feet. So take a seat or be beat down vertically Post mortem surgery Quicker to dig six one by ones; bury you very dirtily Curtly asserting Your curtains but far from my encore that’s a certainty Unmercifully Murdering psyches with words alone. Spurring the weak To purr back meek Lying while trying this Lion; King of Zion. Tired of burping these Babies and toddlers Going crazy searching for grown talent; licking talons and fangs thirstily Unnerving these Kids; knowing their lids will get peeled. Villain killing purposely Have curs cursing me Speaking cursively, curbing cohorts. Quit if your nursing teats Hyperbole Not when measured in pen; sink non-thinkers with ink poisoning Vent venom vehemently; little girls and boys playing with alloys Should quit banging noise My thoughts and voice concise Eyes on the prize; ions spliced off and thrown at my enemy’s head Radically rendering your ending; lending the term walking dead Stocking meds by the O-z From North of the O.C. Only importing the best, from Valleys’ in Cali to Co-towns alley’s G-13 and Maui Wowie The Doctor’s in Get re-T.A.R.D.I.S.; needing starting? Got Diesel too if you need to rally Tally the score Weighed straight, bud and not shake with proper tear drops; plus, I don’t dilly dally True wild card; evolved in being involved in anything called sin My balls’ in court never Alcohol in blood no more; instead soar above but feet still on the floor Claws in the ground This is my town. Come down sounding hard and I will leave you scarred With the loss of your crown Scalpel scalping. And if the laws in the Mudd come around? Still won’t be found. Proper noun; capital Artist using absurdly sharp wit for getting capital Known for ripping sharks to bits Sparks will arc; marked by X then know next your neck Will be stretched regardless Of your guards. I'll march right through your gardens. Embrace mayday Because by melee I have been hardened Leave them marveling at my carvings which cause starving Hungry but not eating beef; these freaking vegans are retarded Believe it’s better to give than receive Seas get wetter from here; forever in gear Achieving whatever I can perceive Seize vets ahead of my years; too clever for peers Deceiving none, yet some sectors still don’t bet on me Sieges settled in letters; vendettas never feared Easing at leisure; proceeding on with no etcetera Seasons become bygone; seasoning legions of chickens so long live Cain, King of Weird Erecting a dynasty Weapon selection is free form daggers called forth from the Nether Injecting arsenic Martial arsenal; impartial to arson. Coolly pulling the lever Irreverent to me Intellectual elephant and elegantly eloquent. Resisting transistors Close circuit Verdict shows consequences for the inoffensive; tethered to weather through endeavors On attack like a shredder Chipper sure as this plot runs redder Splendor found in splinters Cheddar made grating big cheeses Donning black and green Stripping clubs; beating pussies together Surrendering before being engulfed in embers Hand over your tender or be berated by Poetry, mixed with soul of the street Wholly complete when competing against the elite Never miss a beat; a capella teller Fellas that think they can swell up; one hell of whale tail Shelling out pain on the jealous Overzealous never. Well prepared with an umbrella Real life, not a telenovela Jotting rotten embellishments; relishing propellers developing yellows Punks pissing themselves when warships need worshipping Blood, sweat and oil mix Until the ill contents become flammable And all the malcontents Bow out; knowing good and well I’ll damn a fool Or a damsel If you think you can lay hands on me; your delusions are fanciful Panty puller Revealing fraudulent broads; inflict wounds that will require some gauze from the gods At odds with society Believe working a desk is a probity And I’m a writer Some consider a prodigy My odyssey cementing my property Foundation laid in Don't play pretend; make fake men Or women Shed their linens. Hollering no apologies; now follow me Make a joke out of any lesser F-5 force like Lesnar. Why so serious? Uncrowned underground jester Bound to pound the pavement With your cranium; straining some with that statement One truth inevitable Julian sliced in way that was absolutely unforgettable Unintelligible Little bulls should quit being foolish before getting whipped cool and made edible Cannibal but not named Hannibal Mechanically distributing electrically compressed waves To enslave your ladies Into behaving like a cowgirl; riding this bull and craving these testicles Undressing tools Cunning tongue; expelling fantasies for sensational pull Lessons blessing illiterate fools Honeys’ dribbling from touch so much they create literal pools In Sin City I rule Will not pity the drooling class; passionately fashioning Jewels Fastening dull blades To this mental lathe to gain edge; allegedly dredging up the typical Satirical lyrics searing spirits Phantom fandoms abandoning idols idling when I crash tidally Spiritually binding Ritual sacrifice; decisively knifing as if practiced on the habitual Basis. Run races never. Pace to slow. Basics way below. Spacing pros with tasteful prose Also slaying joes Embracing complacency only stagnates; changing notes lead to growth Flaying bros even Must stay on toes or fade; daily dough made by not taking a doze I only dose With Mary. Quite contrary to hoes bickering about which nose I’ll be sniffed through Some into inducing rushes via sphincter Keep your stinker away Couldn’t be helped with a bleaching tincture Suffering puncturing For lunch bringing nothing but punch and knuckle sandwiches Damn bitches. My hands twitching, itching to do ditch digging for snitches with no steel brandished Have no advantages Loose leaf my canvases. Not afraid to get scandalous; know y’all cannot handle this Gargantuan tarantulas Manhandled like tea candles as I dismantle men easier than destroying a mandolin Banding in Only amplifies the likelihood of meeting a random end Ranting and rambling Gambling when I'm done that you won't be able to keep ambling Knock you out in your sandals when my spit hits like an Ambien Watch me trample them; sampled but never sampling Entranced with sin Dancing in and out after romance ends Lancing them then off to the stands again Slanted bantering Can offend but also bend inhibitions; renditions of wishful visions and being the one granting them Dammed if dim Stranded in damages; can't get cantering, this Cancer managing Standards that can spin Rabidly rapid; static shock and awe. Addict not dropping off. Elaborate pens Radically pin backstabbing bastards; infinitely outlasting Simultaneously lashing Latching on with a firm grasp. Grabbing and toe tagging then afterward bagging them Meet my jagged friend Egging on until calm is Gone with the Wind On to win That is, magic tactics Exacting backward grins as in upside-down frowns Should I explain that again Batting bad men with a racquet like it’s badminton The raconteur bracket designed for the rhymer in his prime; letterman jacket Personally fitted Custom colors; clique unaffiliated but true Paid dues for these suede shoes Ensue wrath, crossing paths with me. Be phased through. Displace you Vibrate at a rate that frequently frequencies disintegration Blazing you with phazers set to stun Yep son, better run because here I come to erase you Each and every angle will be tangled with Break both ankles Then add in the mad tendency to strangle Take your Angel and go Jangle out the last bit of blood. Lots of love for being painful. But just be thankful Only got your bank; sank like the Titanic. Hitting like an ice cold tank; you're a lukewarm row boat frozen exposing you're shameful Wordsmith, perfectly working an anvil Not a man to steal; but guarantee I can and will Drop your body in a landfill Stop talking, get to walking; gawking awkwardly At the oddity who stands steel Resolute in Will; if looks could kill Mine would; shooting villain’s long as I am still in Adrenaline pumping; dumping loads of shit. Here’s the damn deal Entrepreneur Grade A manure; never has there been a truer Entrees pure Bade losers farewell; after a push down the stairwell Never been surer Any assurances weren’t accounting for me and my allure Got your cure For being average; lock you in a fridge and drop you off a bridge. Got the top rung secure And I haven’t been on tour Demure nature? No. Bigger ego than Troy McClure Stopping simpletons, pop them like pimples Catching them in the temple; listen as the song of a fat minstrel ends Stenciling by pencil Lengthy dismissal brought about by drizzling In a million missiles These difficult insults leave individuals’ pissed; the gist is: their coined phrases aren’t worth a single nickel Series: X Sin-to-Mint Artist: Artist X (Justin Roman Cain)

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throwingideasatthewall · 4 years ago

Text

Clone Wars Episode 10

Lair of Grievous

An interesting episode title

For sure

[Quote]

Most powerful is he who controls his own power

I really Like This Quote

Being a fan of ... accountability

Notably

“Vice Gunroy

Escapes,”

Ahhhhh

I mean?

The Episode Before Was (Marginally) Better ....

To It’s Pre de cessor

Why do I Get The Feeling This Is Gonna Be A Long Run..?

Any way

That’s Going

Only that one Guy

No... -Body Else

Uhm

Kit Fisto

What?!

Okay

Guess

His design Looks Neat

And No Ahsoka! (The Bad Parts.)

“Gun-”

“And Return Him Just-”

Ena bling! Where he’ll be put in a cell with other inmates that don’t deserve that

And a distraction from reckoning with the consequences of his actions

(And the hope of getting out)

“ I know we’re in the middle of nowhere,”

I like this guy

He sounds cool

Has a personality

(An over involved one?”

But generally good

This might help my nerves after last episode

Very chill

Nice

- Oh spoke too soon

So has your old Padawan Dolved

???

Seriously, does everyone keep track of everyone else’s Padawan

Obi-Wan, it made sense because he’s an over involved dick

But, seriously

Shouldn’t that be left To Yoda as the grand high Jedi?

He is the guy that okay’s these requests, right?

It’ll be great to see Nadar again

Dude, he’s busy

“ i’ll transmit the coordinates for the ren dez vous point,”

Hey they got Ahsoka right!

Maybe this episode won’t be a headache

(Also they just casually help him stalk his apprentice?

Like, that should be his choice

Like yeah two heads are better than one but that doesn’t mean he agrees to be a two- headed dragon

Dick move

And- It’s Gone (to be fair, it’s only slightly too much Tone Than Ne cess ary

“Yet,”

“Good hunting”

NO!

Well.... It’s Over,

Okay....

Nice backgrounds,

This is a really neat land

Oh, now they’re landing

Oh, cool

Fog -gy

Neat

Po -or Be -epy Ro -bot

He can’t see any -thing

“you’ll be fine R6,”

You have legs

Not pleas ed

Hav ing A Good Time

“Nadar,”

*Bows*

Dear frick who invited him here?

Like, Dude

Even if the Gen shares the same inspiration as you, you still have to obey by the rules of tox

Aka you don’t get to be a dick just because it’s a differ ent gen

You get kicked to the accoun -t- ability curve, just as well

Walk Ing into Some’s bus -i ness un warrant ed And un -ask- ed For Is Tox

And then, to follow it up, with hey you did well on the test we make you take!”

To prove we can’t assume authority over you

[Jedi master ship I believe]

I’m surprised dude doesn’t say ‘yeah your stupid club sucks,”

“ i’m sorry the war pre -vented me from seeing your train ing through to the end”]

wait dude’s Mentor bitched out and he still had to take the test?!

Murder is now on the table!*

Note; this is a joke

I never advocate death over account ability

But, geez Dude got screwed over

You were missed master

How old is he?

I’m going with adult-

Knight Ok he has enthusiasm

We’re all good!

Then let’s have a look

Allow me to show the way

Trans lation; Stop ass um ing

au tho rity

Good for him

Pretty pow.

Also yeah just casually found

“Charming,”

That’s a back -handed compliment

Like calling something “quaint”

Dude if you’re going to be on this Quest, Be Nice,

Look after the ships

Oh those poor guys

What happens to them?

[Also ships?]

Okay

So, Sith mon astery

No Guards

It’s a Sith mon as tery surrounded by fog

Clearly they were going for stealth

[And it Is pretty re mote]

The ent rance looks sealed

Yeah It’s Old

Possibly -came in the back entrance

And hoped no one wou ld suspect

[We specialize in ma king entrances]

Should n’t Dude (Jedi) Know That

Their, Jedi

Also yeah the place clearly built for stealth

Let’s bomb open the front door

Not like they could sneak out a back way

This will make less noise

Thank you common sense

But, It will still allow them a lot of time To Es cape

Like;

This why staking out is important

Patience the both of you

THE NERVE!

Dude he got here First!

You wanna help?

Be back up!

“ A second look usually pays off,”

On hand, yes- scouting ahead is good

On the other-

DICK way of put ting it

You want to explore?

Do it your self

You just assu med author ity over a wh- ole group of people

Stopping them from doing their thing

[I’m fully expec -ting him to snap at five

Like he’s being pretty enab- ling

But Dude’s being a prick

[pla -ying by the rule of “But,” Inst ead Of “Or,” Or “And,”

During their re latively func -tional mission

[dude never said he couldn’t blow up the mon astery

Just stated the fact and went about his biz

A nice factor

“What’s this,”

A stone

Bull -shit

Whelp

Smug Ass

You smell that?

Arro gance?

[let him get caught in a trap]

“ smells like droids,”

Metal Does -

It’s too dark to see anything

There’s white bulbs

Also [Forgot to mention], Chek Ov’s Gun?

[For the Gun]

Whelp

They Have Lights

[Also, Dark side shadowing]

Whelp

Hey at least there’s not as much point

Whelp

[I sense there’s something here]

Yeah?!

Was that not the whole point?

Whelp,

A rusted out old factory

Whelp

Poss- Ibly

Watch- Ing

“Ssh,”

You sure about that?

Whelp

“Well that was some thing,”

Jedi, you gonna do anything about that?

Whelp

Dude Taking point

Aga -in

Whelp

Ordering someone else’s troops

[I seriously hope that comes to bite him in the ass]

Roger Roger

Crud it’s the moon clones!

No, just droids up the stairs

Neat

They don’t see that?

Whelp

Vice Roy

What’s going on

They robots; they’re already designed to protect you

Also; BAIT!

The Jedi are here

Trap!

Also they’re walking side-by-side Nice

That’s totally someone else I call it

“ I know they’re near,”

Voice recording?

Whelp

They’re right behind you

What, where do something?

Def -initely a diff -erent per -son

Whelp

Taking longer than expect (ing)

“ Have you ever killed a Jedi?”

These guys have time for this

When fighting to fully trained adult Jedi

Those basic clankers

There the basic mooks that gets mowed down in the hundreds

Good Commentary

Bad timing

Oh now it speeds up

Good for them

They were loo -king pretty lame

Whelp

Stop playing with them!

Republic Dogs

Restraint

Shut the fuck up

It took hours

Because

“restr aint,”

Against

Mach inery

“ i’m sorry master,”

Don’t apologize

He’s being a prick

Like even by my stan- dards

[ignor- ing the war]

He turned a fun exercise again st machinery boring

By micro managing every one

-carried Away

This -dick

Those that have power should restrain themselves from using it

Against machines?

Dude....

I stick pretty closely to one moral code

And there was nothing even remotely reprehensible

About That Deal

Yeah, if they were sentient

But, they act just like normal robots Running on prot ocol Alone

Giv ing no hint to sen tience

Your complaint literally comes down

To chopping them into one or more pieces

That’s extremely overcontrolling and overbearing

Not to mention to reprimand someone....

Dick Move

That’s the point

Least it had dark ened lighting

“Lieuten ant,”

Called it

Also way to go dip shits

You left a com that can be traced back to your exact location

Whelp

Okay...

The tracking beacon

Yeah

They knew we were coming

And didn’t send a trap

Instead sene a thing that can be traced back to the location

Should’ve known Gunnery wasn’t here

No, you should’ve exercised caution

Well at least he isn’t blaming-

Screaming

Yes he would’ve

That was the first tip off

Also; clones?

I apologize for the deception

Bull shit

I apologize for my colleagues

-What?

Dude

Seriously

How easy are you trying to make it for them to find you?

Count Dooku

Why Dude?

Oh Wait enablers

Guess this is their tea sess

Okay hit us with that snark

....

Light Roast

He honestly seems so sad

What

This has got to be a trap

No shit

“Catch Some One,”

No not the vibe I got

Also there’s the clone

Wondered where he went

“To Catch,”

Whelp

Wow

What?!

Well

Looks like someone likes creepy statues

(I know there’s likely some deep lore)

Shrine

Dude this whole place looks like a monastery/castle?

You’re just figuring out This might be some ancient something or another

It’s on a foggy planet, Huge, Em-bedding And desolute

It basically screams basic cult

“Warrior,”

I was going with barbarian, but that works

Whelp

Weird

Juices

Nope Metal

Grievous Cult

This is the lair of General Grievous

Are you sure it’s not a cult?

Like I don’t know

But I wouldn’t keep Reminders of how I was brutally dismembered Around

IDK

Maybe I’m just not that extra

Whelp Dear Frick

Back to the thing

Also yeah don’t leave

Get Rein force ments

(I know I roast Plo about this all the time)

But A few more Jedi Might be useful Against a guy With multiple hands

(Or at least tell them Your Lo cation, What a quick summary)

So they know what they’re getting into if you disappear under “mysterious circumstances,”

Oh, plane

Oh, Grievous

Looks like he’s doing good for himself

Seems happy

Never mind

Guess where ignoring that thing

With The Comms

Stale mate

He honestly looks sad

You have lost your focus

I mean so far he hasn’t won shit

I’m honestly surprised he got it this far

Especially considering you’re the negative overinvolvement side

Sidious demands more dramatic results

“ can’t believe I came back to working here,”

More dead Jedi

Did he kill a bitch?

(I would say good for him but death< Acco untability-)

You expect victory over Jedi

Is battle Droids

It does require a brain

And a willingness to escalate

Oof

Seriously, Just leave

Whelp

These must be trophies

Jedi he’s murdered

Isn’t the str- the Ed- braid! Thing only for Padawan’s Like, you don’t seem to have one

So yeah Grievous probably killed a lot of children

There are so many

Maybe don’t send children to fight your battles

Why Would Dooku want to set a trap for his best general

Minion disposing Tea?

Also, why are you playing into it?

Like, fair enough, don’t turn down free Intel

But, you could set a trap and be doing other things

Like hunting down Vice Roy it doesn’t make sense

“Are we the bait or is grie -vous the -bait,”

Good question

Definitely grievous though

He was clearly offered up as a distraction From Vice Roy

We must consider who the trap is for

Grievous

You’re supposed to take him out

Your droid is track ing an in coming ship

Here we go

Match es the descrip tion

Keep out of sight

Whoa whoa hold up

Why are they calling and answering to you

These are Raden’s troopers

Dude has literally hijacked his whole life

Dude just kick him

Like fourth time but ,seriously;

Capturing him could turn the tide of the war

They’re literally handing him to you on a silver platter

Dude - needs a break

If he doesn’t know we’re here

Instantly down to do Dooku’s Dirty Work

“We need a plan,”

That’s what he just said

Whelp

That’s neat

Cool

Mood lighting works

Guards

Does he even know what happened?

Or did Sidious/Dooku set up this elaborate trap while he was out

And he’s just coming home like;

Why is the place so heckin trashed

Whelp

Dick

Dude didn’t sign up for this

Welcome home general

Half willing to give it to you

Whelp

*Oh*

Cough ing

Don’t let him cut the line

Whelp

Heck

He’s Trying

“ Don’t make me destroy you,”

If they try to foreshadow that ear lier

No Bad

Ter rible

Whelp

Seriously did they just reattach his legs??

Also, They really did not bring anything else to capture him with

Besides cables

To Grab

And nothing to tie him up with

How did they think this was going to go?

Argh

Just got slap stick ed

Haha

“Pack him up” ?

Whelp

Dude they are just knocked out

Whelp

Neat

Walking a little funny

Whelp

The clones get in the way

No you didn’t bring anything to restrain him with

“Taken him,”

Dude he just said “taken”

Not like he said “killed”

The most objectionable thing he said in that was blaming the clones for his failure

And clearly that isn’t your issue

Narrowing of the eyes was a good reaction

(Pretty sure the darkness is Him putting unwonton pressure and guilt tripping (Gas lighting)

He’s just too much of a coward to say anything because he can be held accountable At the fifth thing

Let’s tend to the wounded

Good job reflect ing mate

Whelp

Docter where are you?

Don’t be upset with me master

Geez

Dude does need a break

Even his own lair is toxic

Conversation

Rrgh

Look

Aww

Spare parts

Off

Body guards

Remotely deactivated for a re-charge

Oh so they weren’t killed

Gosh dude came back to A bunch of droids laying dead on the ground Like;

“These.. aren’t. mine,”

Dude is having a tough day

Argh

Not good

Good

Lock down the Perimeter

Good for him

Whelp

Looks, Better

Whelp

Watching

Yeah, those guys are dead from grievous

He wacked them with metal claws

Those guys don’t have a single piercing mark on them

Nor dented helmet

Not ready to take on grievous

No one is

Dude has robotic arms

It’s time we retreated

Make sure to bring something to restrain him next time

Whelp

Grievous isn’t doing anything

Good for him

“ You are not going anywhere,”

Well, he tried

He WAS just given An ultimatum from his boss

Gotta stop caring about those things

“ Guess we’ll have to fight after all,”

Or blow open the door

Or sizzle it open with your light sticks

Lots of options

Bring scout

Aight

Whelp those guys are dead

Also how did they even find them?

Okay, that one makes sense because he was parked literally 5 feet from the base

Fair Game

Get out of there R6

Good for him

Whelp

That one guy...

Whelp...

Yet

Good for him

You told him to leave

Dick

You surprise attack him

Call hypocrite, fair fight

Aaw, he’s nice

Fair

Whelp

Shit

Straight to the point

Doom Man -sion

Here we come

Whelp

Dude with the force can’t lift one guy

Well

General

Dude one trap and you’re ready to call it quits

Lame

We’ve seen the lower levels of your home

No you haven’t

You were on ground level

And you only just saw anything below that now

“ we’re not impressed,”

Dude speak for yourself

Also, fun

Good way to heal

“Good, Good, Jedi,”

This should be entertaining

- way to heal-

“You shall provide sport for me,”

Like; That

Whelp

Good time to entertain our guests

He’s a good host

Whelp

Dude has a dinosaur

And bots

Dude level spiked for a moment

Hmm

Nice

Oof

That sounds painful

Armor Patches

“Contrary to your belief I have other things to do,”

Good for him

He rans a med channel

“ go see to it my repair,”

Implaments (?)

*Impale Ments

There may be some discomfort

But I’m pretty sure he was already uncomfortable

Argh

No sedatives

Off

Weak link

Whelp

Surprised his pistol did anything

Like seriously even the swords would take a few whacks

There we go stabbing it with a sword

Your knight instinct

Whelp

And that clown just became the damsel

Whelp

Fail

Guess he’s dead

Or broke something

Splat noises are kind of humorous

So it could just be a broken nose

Great

Whelp

Instinct

Grievous is going to pay for this

Dude he made a humorous “Splat” sound

“Splat” is not a death sound

It is a broken nose sound

“Destroy him,”

I understand your pain

No, this is the time to take the kid away from the bad situation

(Or actually give him the don’t kill things talk)

That’s the better option

(Since he is still an adult and can make his decision)

“ but you forget your teachings Nadar,”

Not like that

That is how you get hit in the face

But in this war strength prevails

He literally does have a point

You two survived because of “superior genetics”

You’ve literally been hustling him since day one

And revenge is fine in terms of accountability

If someone stabs you, You’re allowed to stab him back

Abusers? Get their abuse back

Specifically in Murder

The dead isn’t alive to take revenge

And while he is right that accountability is better

That murder doesn’t equal murder

Because of the belief That all (human) Sentient life Inherently makes the world better By the possibility of them contributing good

Which is why I advocate accountability

The way dude is handling it is shitty

Firstly; all those present to the body are considered enablers, if they enable murder

And everyone who sees the body has to be on high alert

And accountability on sight

Because if you five rules A Murder -er...

Point being dude should. shut the fuck up and help him find this dude

The rules have changed

Yes, yes they have

“ perhaps you are the one that has changed,”

Shut up toxic

Dick

Enabling selfish dick

“ come now,”

He realized he fucked up

“ We need to move now,”

There’s no saving that

Whelp

Skipped past that

Looks better

“Gor,”

He named it

Where are they

Yeah wait what happened with the doors?

“Gor...”

Aww He sounds so sad

Argh

Oof

That pissed him off

Incoming message from Count Dooku

Oh, Good

The Jedi have infiltrated your Lair

Damn

He really didn’t tell the man about anything

Your recent defeats at their hands

Wow, Dude can Literally not get a break

You just called him five minutes ago

Fuck you

He looks so Tired

And Done

“Reassess your effectiveness,”

Oh that’s bound to piss him off

That you actively did that

I’m expecting a face Heel turn

“You”

There we go

“ you deactivated my Guards,”

Oh....

[I assumed he just forgot]

“ You let the Jedi in,”

No actually they found a magic brick

Unless Count Dooku just so happen to press the button at the same time

Which if so nice

Makes dude’s overconfidence even sweeter

“ so you would testing me,”

Dick

And he’s starting to look It

Oops

He’s pissed now

Like I know this is culminating in a fight scene

But I would just love if just walked downstairs. And was like yes I will go with you

Out of Spite

“ i’ll play your little game,”

In your condition you need your rest

I will rest when the Jedi are dead

Oh so that’s how they capture him

Maybe after he kills the young one

Sentry

Those robots do nothing

Whelp

Control Room

He’s Done

Oh, what do we have here?

Oh, this is what he does?

Master the Jedi are about to enter the control room

Snarky little shit

“Nadar, get inside,”

Yeah, No

Ahh

Nadar

Cutting out the abuser

Whelp

Absolutely can kick ass

Surprised no one who understands accountability

“Greetings young Jedi,”

Greetings Boomer

“How Ex citing,”

Neat

And Meta

Defeat us all

You’re one person but I accept the understanding

Get him Master

Oh he gets to see his apprentice die on the big screen

Wait, where is the other Jedi

Where-

Oh no

Self-awareness

Oww

But that wouldn’t kill a determined

Whelp he accepted death

“No,”

Yep, he’d rather die than live in the world you made

Enabler

(Technically; Both of you)

Welp I will kill you all

Do you hear me Jedi

Do you hear me

Fair game

Enablers kill enablers

No one wins

“ R6 is that you?”

How?!

Meet me at the south landing platform

I’m coming for you next Fisto

Whelp, i’ll be gone by the time you get here

Dick

Whelp

R6, I’m at the platform

Going somewhere

How?!

But also OK

Whelp

Hmm

Fan Technique should actually help in the fog

Whelp

Pawn In Dooku’s game

That power will only consume you

Like you

Flaunting it

Right now

Unless his battery gives out...

Whelp

Cheating

How quickly power can switch hands

Whelp Enabled

Expect ed

Accom plishment

So there’s room improvement

Oof

“His heart was in the right place,”

Not accountability

“ to answer power with power It’s not the Jedi way,”

HAHAHaHa

What’s the title of this again?

Star WARS The Clone WARS

It takes two to tango

Feckin hypocrites

In this WAR

HAHAha

“ A danger there Is,”

I feel bad for the voice actor that had to say that with a straight face

Nailed it perfectly well

“Oof losing who we are,”

Oh, that scene

Chills.

I REALLY liked this episode

It was funny self-aware and even had some good moments with the villains

Also

They killed a motherfucking dragon

*Named Gore

* excuse language

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