#found this in my drafts so y'all are getting my 2 am thoughts from like 6 days ago

[anxious-witch]

I am actually kinda insane over how similar Crystal and Edwin are in some things, and that's why they don't get along at first, because how can you like someone who is reflecting everything you hate about yourself?

I wonder if Edwin ever thought about how his life would have gone if he lived. Sure, he wouldn't have been tortured in hell, but I can't really imagine his life being great, given he was a gay man in 1900s. If the ritual failed or if there was no ritual at all, he still would have gotten bullied by Simon and the other boys. We don't know anything about his family, but I think we can safely say it wasn't a very loving, affectionate one. If Edwin lived, burdened by small, everyday injustices and pains of life, would he have grown cruel? Spiteful? Bitter?

I am not saying torture in hell for over 70 years was in any way easy, but I think that it was so severe-too severe, given Edwin didn't do anything-for Edwin to ever accept he deserved it, despite his shame around his sexuality.

But if he lived his entire life in shame? Even if he did everything right, got a wife, had kids, he would have to be aware of being gay at some point. If there was no Charles to show him a true goodness he and in turn, other people were capable of. If he lived long enough I wonder if he would have turned to similar copying mechanism as Crystal. Hurting people in the way he had been hurt.

As for Crystal, we saw she was capable of the change once she forgot the hurt she endured and when she had Charles and Edwin. There is something very tragic that for both her and Edwin, it was a demon that made them suffer disproportionately, but that ultimately led them to want to help people because of it.

Idk just. I need more of them bonding and understanding each other in S2. I need Crystal to be broken over how mean she was before she lost her memories, and I need Edwin to empathize. Because as much as I think Charles is wonderful and he would try his best to support her, I think he copes in very different ways.

Like yes, he lashes out physically, but he only loses his temper when there is an actual danger or his friends are threaten.

What Crystal and Edwin do is lash out at the chance of being threatened, to destroy the threat before it happens, and sometimes they are wrong about what is a threat. And I need them so badly to bond over it. Please?

[dangerouslyintofictionalloves]

(Bucky Barnes) A Little Messed Up #2

Warnings: Hey y'all this short story is not gonna be a cute or romantic plot. Just wanted to warn y'all that this short fanfic is more of a breakup plot between the two characters.

Story Warnings: Angst, Established Relationship with an Age Gap, Mentions of Infidelity

Also I wrote this years ago, so it has been sitting in my wattpad unpublished dungeon for ages. I just thought that I'd give everything I ever wrote more of a chance to shine on Tumblr to see how it does. For some reason I just feel more comfortable publishing things here. Even if I have multiple versions or drafts of a story. Anyways, holy moly, thank you guys so much for those of you that have read and enjoyed part one. I honestly didn't think it was that good since I wrote it such a long time ago and I've been out of practice with writing for a while. I did start part two but majority of this continuation is all new! I took what I had with my draft and just built off of it and took some things, added others etc. I hope y'all enjoy this part as much as the first one.

Taglist: @cjand10

Main OC Character Dahlia

Plot From Part 1: Dahlia is Bucky's girlfriend. They met when he had just escaped HYDRA. She helped keep him hidden. Being a secret little goodie goodie she never really got to do anything exciting with her life so she saw this as a chance to live her life well and help someone along the way. After a while of training and recruitment once Bucky and Dahlia become part of the Avengers things are not seemingly going smooth as Natasha and Bucky are sent out on a mission together and he comes back distant. This triggers powers in Dahlia that she hadn't used since her childhood when she was going through a dark time dealing with bullies, and judgement.  Additional Plot Information that I didn't specify in the first part since I am just remembering how I even came to writing this story in the first place... Dahlia helped Bucky hide during that time that Steve/Captain America was looking for his best friend in Captain America Civil War timeline. The Bucharest Scene we see in the movie is- in the plot- set after he left her for "her own safety", so she was helping him hide from Steve essentially & HYDRA and feeding him etc. giving him companionship and providing for him with her entry level wages as best as she could before we see Bucky get found by Cap in Bucharest.

Side OC Character Xander

A few months or so has gone by and it is finally the day that Natasha and Bucky return from their mission.

Fortunately for Dahlia, everyone at Stark Tower has been of great help when it comes to her recently awakened abilities.

To rewind things back to how things went with Steve and Tony.

Since the day Steve and Tony had discovered her abilities, it took a while for them both to process everything they witnessed from the security cameras.

It took about a week or so before the both of them confronted Dahlia about her powers together. 

At first she was hesitant to open up about her abilities at all since she never learned to control them to their fullest potential, only on a small scale she was able to manipulate little things.

For example revealing Xander's human form with a wave of her hand over his shadow silhouette. Although that was never witnessed on cameras so that may be something that Tony Stark and Captain America are most likely still kept in the dark about.

Seeing her hesitancy, the pair had decided to return back to the topic in a comforting and cozy room that Tony had built as an addition to the tower.

It ensured that Dahlia always had somewhere to go whenever she was feeling overwhelmed with life.

It was Cap's idea, he thought that if she had a place in Stark Tower to go to whenever her emotions were becoming overwhelming and she was not able to regulate them on her own- that she would see how much she is valued on the team and how much her well-being truly impacts everyone.

Tony just saw it as the easiest way to get what he wants so you know Mr. Rich Money Bags had to be extremely extra.

With Dahlia's 'room' (It's Tony Stark, I say room but come on-he really wanted to get information from Dahlia in the best and fastest way possible so it was more like she got a whole ass cozy comfort floor to herself because he's impatient and somehow great at getting his way).

With Dahlia's floor zone complete, it took a month or so, but slowly overtime when she realized that Stark was not going to take away her newly designated safe zone after getting information out of her, she was able to open up about her past history and her oddly natural occurring abilities with Tony and Steve.

From there they had only planned to keep an extra watchful eye on her.

Wanda and Vision found out about the powers later on.

(give or take a day or so since it's Wanda and Vision, tbh I am surprised they never sensed it from her when she had joined the team in the first place but that's a whole thing in itself)

The only reason they really noticed her powers was because it was so difficult for her to control at the time that it was starting to interfere with her normal routine that everyone had become so accustomed to.

They observed her daily, whenever she was training, in the common communal rooms, and when she thought she was alone while out on a walk or enjoying nature at the local parks.

They noticed little things here and there about how certain emotions triggered the mist and what type of reaction her body was having whether it was fight, flight, or fawn.

Wanda met with Tony after he figured out that they also knew about Starlight's abilities. There he showed her the footage that F.R.I.D.A.Y. had captured when her abilities seemed to show up at a force that even shocked her.

With this information Wanda was able to communicate with Vision on the best course of action to help Star become a stronger and more independent young woman and now Avenger/Assassin. 

She trained with Wanda every Tuesday and Thursday. While Vision took over her training sessions every Wednesday and Friday. Mondays and the weekend were off for other missions and resting.

Their training sessions were definitely not a walk in the park by a long shot... BUT- despite all the blood, sweat, & tears (hahaha BTS blood, sweat & tears. sorry sorry just had to put that out there before I go insane from my own audhd thoughts.) Dahlia truly came out stronger.

She was able to understand herself and her abilities in ways that she never knew before and that was all thanks to them. To say she was grateful for their help would be an understatement.

She will never forget the impact that Wanda and Vision had on her ever.

As for Xander, he watched her in the shadows. Making sure she was safe and knowing she was just getting better at suppressing her emotions since he was still in the human world.

He had never stayed in the human world very long before, outside of the shadow realm when she didn't need active comfort or protection.

Maybe she was still coping and healing, but even then- he didn't understand how he was feeling.

As a figment of her imagination essentially- Xander was wondering if he would become more human the longer he stayed.

He wasn't sure if he was able to continue going back and forth from the Shadow Realm to the human realm as normal since this had never happened before.

Dahlia had never known how to truly control her abilities, and Xander had never been summoned to stay in the human realm for such a long time- consecutively.

It was no surprise that she was just thinking of the same thing.

Just as Dahlia had decided to return to her room to discuss her concerns with Xander, Natasha and Bucky had returned from their mission.

The young raven haired girl cursed to herself in the hallway as she closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath through pursed lips.

The entire team that was at Stark Tower had gone to welcome the pair back home from their lengthy, dangerous mission.

Peter being the only member of the avengers that was closest in age to Dahlia felt off when he realized that she didn't immediately run into Bucky's arms, celebrating his safe return like she usually does.

Dahlia stood frozen in the hallway, shoulder leaning against the wall to support her weight as she took in all his gruff features.

At this moment, she wondered what she ever saw in Bucky. He was older than her, that's a given with him being the Winter Soldier and all.

Sure, he's charming and has that type of vibe where it makes any woman with a kind heart think to herself 'maybe I can fix him' 'maybe I can be the one to make him happy'.

That being said, after his bro hug reunion with Steve, his cold ocean stare locked onto her empty midnight orbs.

This emotion threw Bucky off guard as he noticed how cold her gaze was as she looked at him.

He was so used to her warm cheery aura whenever he returned from a dangerous mission, deep down he felt the guilt starting to creep up on him.

It took him some time to process that she also wasn't giving him her routine welcome home hugs and praise. This left him completely dumbfounded as he was trying to figure out what she knew and how she would ever find out about his hook ups during this mission as this was the first time he had ever given in to his lustful impulses.

Natasha noticed the tension between the couple before anyone else caught onto the vibe of the room and made her way towards Dahlia pulling the younger girl into a tight embrace and melting away that cold stone heart she had displayed on her sleeve momentarily.

She didn't realize that Peter Parker had already noticed Dahlia's behavior. But, by the time it dawned on her and before she could check on the teen, Dahlia finally smiled as she was engulfed into pure warmth and love, giggling slightly as Natasha swayed them in their hug.

Peter's heart fluttered slightly hearing the genuine lighthearted tone from the slightly older young woman. Seeing her smile so brightly after her emotionless stare down with Bucky made his heart melt and forget that she was actively in a relationship with the Winter Soldier.

Author Note: Sorry this one seems so short! I wanted to make sure to get something out there since I haven't posted on this blog in what feels like forever. I hope you enjoyed this part.

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 4 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC) Note: My working draft for this fic is called "Stardew Trash" in Google docs. Just thought y'all would like to know. Lmao.

This chapter is rated SFW — 3096 words.

(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Occupying himself with the hens was the best decision Shane could have made that day. Their soft clucks, the silken slide of their feathers through his fingers, the graceful bobs of their heads as they pecked the dirt at his feet provided the perfect distraction from the thirst that nudged the back of his throat. Cravings were always a bitch to deal with, even under the best of circumstances, but the heightened stress level encapsulating the farm like a dome amped his desire to sink into the familiar sense-numbing void tenfold.

Distant mumblings from the doctor and the farmer caught Shane’s attention as he fetched hay from the nearby silo. More than once, he wished he could eavesdrop, but they were far enough away that the soft rustling of maple leaves muffled their words until they resembled a mere hum among the ambient babble of nature. Instead, he went about his work, attempting to drown out the intrusive thoughts of what they could be discussing in his absence. Not that it mattered. The farmer was well-liked among nearly everyone in Pelican Town. Her world didn’t revolve around Shane and his fragile notions that she would wake up one day and realize she’d wasted her time befriending him. The town doctor came to her house to tend to her wounds. He fixed what was broken in a way Shane could never compete with. Patching a hole in a weathered fence and laying down some hay seemed incredibly trite in comparison.

“Fuck, I need a drink,” he grumbled while gently nudging a round hen that had decided to roost on his foot. Calculations filtered through his mind, as they did when he tried to justify cutting into the time he spent with Jas, taking shortcuts on the ranch chores, or ducking out early from his shift on the days Morris left early.

Can I get away with it? Can I spend another 50 bucks on beer this week? Can I sleep 30 more minutes to nurse this hangover? Can I avoid talking to anyone until my head stops pounding?

Granted, these calculations had become less and less arduous and frequent since the last black-out drunken stupor had forced him to look himself in the eye and decide, once and for all, if he would allow it to consume him entirely. He had been close. So close , so many times. But once the farmer had found him face down on the Cindersap lake dock at 2 am, vomiting over the side, a sensation of shame gripped him so tightly that he felt he might be crushed by the weight of it. She’d dragged him home – God only knew how – and sat by his bedside with a pitcher of water and a waste basket until he groaned back to life the following morning. The looks of pity and disappointment from Marnie he could handle. Shane had grown used to them and learned to shrug them off with ease. But the fear that swam in Kristen’s eyes and the subsequent relief when she realized he hadn’t straight up died of alcohol poisoning stabbed him like a molten hot poker between the ribs. Shame. Utter, absolute, disgusting shame.

Had he cut back on drinking for her ? Had he agreed to professional intervention to never witness that fear contorting her freckled face and suffer that suffocating shame ever again? Shane tried to pretend the answer to those questions was no. Sometimes he almost believed it.

His cargo pocket began to sing for the dozenth time that morning. The number on the screen wasn’t in his contacts, but he knew exactly who it was by now, having received 3 voicemail messages from the town’s Mayor.

“Shane, it’s Lewis. How’s Krissy? Did you and Harvey get there alright? Call me back.”

“Shane, it’s Lewis again. I texted Harvey, but he hasn’t replied.”

“Shane – Lewis. I know I’m not your favorite person in the world, but I think we can both agree that we care about Krissy. Just tell me if she’s okay.”

Finally fed up, Shane canceled the call and tapped out a text, his fingers jabbing at the screen aggressively – She’s fine, Lewis. Stop calling me . – before he powered down the device altogether and made a mental note to talk to Marnie about not sharing his cell phone number with anyone else in town. Shane would never understand what Marnie saw in that man, but he also knew that Kriss regarded Lewis like a second grandfather, having spent most of her childhood summers on this farm. She had history in Pelican Town, albeit a bit ancient, but enough that dormant roots sprouted instantly and bloomed the moment the old timers recognized her shining face as that of Homer Wynand’s rambunctious granddaughter. It had taken less time than he’d wagered for her to forge multiple friendships among the younger town’s people, but he could tell right away that she wouldn’t have trouble fitting in, much to his annoyance.

Would he ever admit out loud to secretly hoping for another outcast? Absolutely not. Would he have shunned her, regardless? Of course. But, it was made so much easier to treat her like shit in the beginning, believing she was just like every other slack jaw in this podunk town who would shun him right back. He was glad when she eventually proved him wrong.

After he’d wasted as much time as he could cleaning up the coop, he found the farmer sitting cross-legged in front of a makeshift grave near the pond. He hadn’t expected to find her there, but he wasn’t surprised. She reminded him of Marnie in how she was attached to her animals. Maybe even of himself…

Shane had made up his mind about helping Kristen around the farm before she emerged from the bathroom, smelling of sweet mint. The humidity trailing after her only amplified the aroma of her shampoo or soap; he wasn’t sure which. All he did know was that it filled him with an odd sense of comfort. It was familiar . It was her.

He’d been prepared for her to protest, which was precisely why he didn’t give her the opportunity. The ridiculously large bandage wrapped around her right hand and the noises of frustration as she struggled through the simple tasks of cleaning herself up and getting dressed were enough to ignite his slumbering sense of duty. The odd fluttering he felt in his chest when he recalled the myriad of ways she’d helped him over the past 2 years intensified, especially when his thoughts lingered on the obvious distractions she provided for him when the urge to drink himself to death reared its ugly head.

“Hey, let’s play that new first-person shooter you got. Loser orders a pizza!”

“Wanna take a walk on the beach? I bet Jas would like to go for a swim.”

“I have a fresh batch of hatchlings! Come over and see. They’re so fucking cute!”

Yes, obvious distractions. But effective. Without realizing, the farmer had helped the deadbeat, alcoholic stock boy more than anyone ever had. And now, he owed her.

❦❧🍓❦❧

Shane cursed and cracked one bloodshot eye when the alarm screeched in his ear, pulling him from a dream. Even before he stumbled out of bed to slam his hand on the snooze button, it had melted from his memory like one of Jas’ favorite ice cream bars on a sunny summer day. But the feeling lingered. Though sleep deprived — having arrived home from Joja at just past midnight — he felt oddly at peace, even at 4:30 am.

Four-fucking-thirty, Christ… he thought, switching on his bedside lamp. He couldn’t remember a time he’d willingly gotten up this early. Going to bed this late? Sure. But that was a completely different circumstance.

He dressed quickly in his usual attire, shoving his uniform in a backpack and slinging it over one shoulder as he stepped from his bedroom and entered the darkened kitchen.

“Shhh…I’m in here. Don’t wake Jas,” Marnie said from somewhere in the blackness. His eyes hadn’t fully adjusted, and Shane nearly jumped out of his knock-off Crocs, startled.

“Jesus, Marnie!” he whispered aggressively, flipping on the overhead light. Marnie sat in her bathrobe at the kitchen table, cradling a mug of something steamy. “Why are you up so early?”

“Lewis told me you’d be going to Krissy’s farm this morning, so I thought I’d make you some coffee. It’s fresh in the pot. I can cook something, too, if you’re hungry.”

Lewis. Fucking Lewis…

“How the hell —” he began before cutting himself short. He should have known this would happen. Hot gossip traveled fast in tiny towns. “Kriss told him and he told you?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, rising from her chair to fetch another mug from the cupboard. “Is that a problem?”

“No.”

And it really wasn’t. It wasn’t like Shane was doing something scandalous that needed to be kept hidden. If gossip was going to spread, he supposed it was better than the usual trash people thought about him. Still, the sense of privacy he tried to preserve from most of the inhabitants of Pelican Town bristled at the idea that everyone probably knew what he’d be up to, innocent or otherwise.

“It’s a kind thing you’re doing, Shane. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Marnie’s tone softened as it did when she was proud of him, which was rare. His cheeks prickled with heat, and he averted his eyes, suddenly interested in a hairline crack in one of the porcelain tiles near his feet.

“I’m not hungry,” he replied, changing the subject as he took the mug from her outstretched hand. The aroma cut through the remaining fog lingering in his brain, and he took a large sip, unconcerned with the resulting scald to his tongue.

“Good. I’m going back to bed,” Marnie joked. “Turn off the light when you leave.”

For the first time, probably ever, the chirping of birds before dawn didn’t agitate him. In fact, they were a welcome soundtrack for his hike toward the farm, granting him a reprieve from some of the more intrusive thoughts that always seemed to plague him. Booze still remained the most effective dampener, which frustrated him, but he’d take what he could get. The air also hadn’t become oppressively hot just yet, and he felt surprisingly light on his feet.

The trek from the ranch to Kristen’s farmhouse took approximately 15 minutes. He’d walked the trail so many times that he had it committed to memory and was on her front porch at 5 am on the dot.

“What are you doing here?” the farmer groaned when she finally answered the door. He knocked loudly and insistently, knowing she’d still be dead to the world. “I don’t get up until 6, ya know?”

“Hey, that’s fucking great for you —,” he answered, plopping his backpack on the rocking chair next to the front door, “— but I gotta be at work at 8, and it takes 45 minutes to walk there from here.”

Kristen scrubbed at her eyes with her good hand, the other hanging limply at her side. Shane idly wondered if she was in much pain before his thoughts pivoted to how cute she looked with her curly hair so wild and unkempt from sleep. He quickly shut that one up, however, by making fun of her instead.

“You look like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”

She laughed hoarsely, lightly kicking his green foam shoe.

“Says the only person left on the planet who wears Crocs,” she retorted, opening the door wider to let him inside. “You want coffee? I need to take painkillers now, or I might start weeping like a baby soon.”

“Nah.” So, she was in pain. That knowledge distressed him, but there was nothing he could do other than what he was here for. “I’m gonna get started now. I’ll be in the coop.”

He worked in silence, as usual. At Joja, his co-worker Sam always wore headphones, the music blasting from them so loud that Shane wondered how he hadn’t gone completely deaf. It wasn’t that he preferred the silence. Rather, all of his favorite songs were tied to memories that were too tender to prod at just yet. Finding new music seemed just as daunting, and Shane realized he was probably getting old.

35 isn’t old, is it?

It is for you, Shaney boy. It’s old as fuck. You’re out of shape, an addict, stuck in a dead-end job, and a shitty god-father. You may as well be 60.

It wasn’t Shane’s voice that answered in his head, echoing between his ears like a specter. It was familiar, teasing, heart-achingly distant. And Shane refused to entertain it. The owner of that voice wouldn’t have spoken to Shane in such a spiteful manner had it been right in front of him. The owner of that voice wouldn’t speak at all. Death tends to render a person speechless, after all.

Time slipped away as he continued to work, spending a significant amount of it stroking each hen that crossed his path. He found that even though he’d opened the coop door for them to graze, several remained inside, squabbling for attention.

“Kriss spoils you, huh?” he asked as he scratched the short feathers on their tiny heads. “She better.”

Checking his watch, Shane sighed. Rolling out of bed before the sun wasn’t exactly his favorite thing, but he’d gladly do it every day if it meant this was his actual job. Instead, he’d make the long walk to town and clock in at the soul-sucking pit of hell that spit out his meager bi-weekly paychecks from a talking Pez dispenser that called itself Morris.

Not for the first time, Shane found himself wondering how Kristen survived the corporate lake of fire. She’d spoken about it a handful of times but preferred not to linger, changing the subject at every available opportunity. Shane never pressed. He knew how frustrating it was when people couldn’t mind their own business, even if curiosity gnawed at the base of his brain. He knew she’d been an attorney on Joja’s payroll, but the specifics were vague. Shane wasn’t sure he’d understand them anyway if he were honest, so he let it be. Picturing the farmer as anything but kind of boggled his mind anyway. Her earthy essence seemed ingrained into every fabric of her being, utterly content with the life she’d built far away from exhaust fumes, blaring horns, and tiny, overpriced apartments. She seemed happy.

“Hey, are you hungry?”

Her voice sliced through the silence so suddenly that Shane flinched, whipping his head around to find Kristen leaning against the coop door, a bucket of strawberries gripped in her good hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, motioning toward the bucket filled to the brim with ripe red fruit.

“Don’t try to father me, Shane. I still have one good hand, and the strawberries in the greenhouse were past harvest. If they weren’t picked today, they’d rot.”

“I’m telling Harvey,” he lied, striding toward her to snatch the bucket. It was heavy .

“You do that, and I’ll tell Marnie you let Jas watch the Blair Witch Project.”

“You watched it with us!” he protested. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, giving him away. Nevertheless, his brow pinched, imagining Kristen picking strawberries off hundreds of vines with only one hand. “I would have harvested the strawberries.”

“You have to leave soon.”

“I can always come back, Kriss,” he said, scrubbing his free hand at the back of his neck. His opposite arm was beginning to ache with the weight of the bucket, and he wondered how she seemed to handle it so effortlessly. “I was planning to do that anyway. After my shift. Just… don’t fuck yourself up more than you already have.”

“Okay…” Her eyes darted around the coop, avoiding Shane’s entirely, and her stance became rigid as she crossed her arms, shifting from foot to foot. He recognized these mannerisms — stubbornness waging war with logic.

He followed her back to the farmhouse in silence, unsure of what else to say. He knew deep down that she would continue to try and complete her chores, incapacitation be damned, but he would be there to haunt her every step of the way.

Once inside, Shane emptied the bucket into her kitchen sink and washed the berries as best he could while she tossed something into the microwave. Several minutes later, he was finished and she shoved a soggy sausage sandwich warped in a paper towel toward his face.

“I’m… bad at this,” she said, providing no further context until Shane blinked at her, confused. “I don’t like asking for help. It makes me feel weak, and feeling weak makes me feel inadequate.” Shane already knew this. The pair had more in common than he sometimes liked to admit. “But, I appreciate it. I really do. Thank you.”

Again, she avoided eye contact with him, nervously fidgeting with a strand of curly hair. It was so endearing that Shane had to take a step back, nibbling on the sandwich until his brain could come up with an adequate response. A response that wouldn’t make him sound like a doe-eyed sap.

“It’s nothing. I owe you anyway.”

He braced himself for another protest. The farmer had told him countless times before that her friendship wasn’t transactional. No strings. No expectations. Nothing was owed because nothing was due. Instead, she smiled and did something that transferred her anxious energy straight from her body into his. She hugged him.

Shane’s brain seized up like a wrench had been thrown into the cogs, screeching everything to an abrupt halt. It wasn’t the first time he’d been hugged by the farmer, but his reaction was always the same. His arms hung limply at his sides, and he held his breath, unable to move and reciprocate. Damn it, why couldn’t he just —

She released him a couple of seconds later, the smile finally reaching her eyes. She never seemed phased that Shane couldn’t bring himself to hug her back, and he was glad she never acknowledged it. She truly expected nothing from him other than what he was willing to give freely.

“I get off at 5 so I’ll be back at around 6,” he said, moving toward the door. Once outside, he retrieved his backpack, deciding he’d get changed in the Joja Mart employee locker room instead. For now, he needed to clear his head.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Pausing halfway through reading one of your fics to pop in and say I really love your narration and character voices. It’s not common in fanfic for an author to write in a way that’s layered enough for the reader to gain their own insights and conclusions. Like I’m in the last chapter of therianthropy and there’s the stuff that happens on the same page when there’s dissonance between thoughts and actions or when Karen buys Matt the sympathy muffin and Matt’s mad that that tactic totally works, and there’s also the longer story motifs that must be so hard to tie together when you’re publishing at the same time as actively writing.

The bit that got me to stop is when teenage Matt’s at Fogwell’s. Previously we saw Fogs starting to talk about the little boxing found family and Matt’s all “oh geez I hope he doesn’t start the lecture about sacred boxing fraternity 🙄”. And on its own this was a great scene because it showcased the characterisation of Fogs, Matt and Lisa in a few short paragraphs. Fogs is real passionate about this one thing, Matt’s heard this windbag go on about it a million times and is comfortable enough to be a little bitch, and Lisa’s relaxing for the first time in a /long/ while. And it’s beautiful.

But then. BUT THEN!!!!!!! This *fucking* speech Fogs was about to launch into!!!!!! Is the very thing that made Matt feel genuinely loved for the first time since Jack died!!!!!!!! Nearly ten years!!!!!!!!! And when Matt finds this traumatised teenage soldier that needs reassurance, love and support, he takes her to the the place where that unconditional care was given to him all those years ago and arhgrgahgrhhogohrgohhhh don’t even get me started on kintsugi ok I hope u never stop creating ok ur fics make me wanna howl at the fucking moon

2/2 Sorry my coherency evaporated real quick there. Your stories are also laugh out loud funny

Hello extremely kind ask I have neglected in my ask box for far too long. Thank you for your kind words they made me extremely happy and made me feel more competent than I actually am.

The tough part about fanfiction is that everything y'all get is basically a first draft because, like you said, it's publish-as-you-go and I don't have the chance to go back and rewrite the story to be more cohesive. Like, the act of writing itself means the plot and characters are still developing, and i really rely on editing and second drafts for that in a way that's not super possible with fanfiction. Sometimes the characters just Do Things and i'm like "wha--stop that. why are you. since when do you. why didn't you do that like 100k words ago." and it gives it a very flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants vibe from my perspective.

I am a very big fan of Recycling when it comes to my writing, and i think it makes it seem a little more put-together than it is. Like, I always have big Scenes in my head that exist from the start of the story that I know are going to make an appearance, so I just bury references to them them I need to craft the moments leading up. Or, if I don't have a scene planned and there's something missing, I tend towards trying to tie it back to something that already existed in the story, so there's a little bit more of a common line running through it. Granted, if you do this too much it seems a little kitschy, so I don't always do it, but I'm a firm believe in using what you have to the fullest extent.

If i recall correctly, Fogs' confusing Matt into staying by just sort of talking until he passed out was a Big Scene and I was just planting my chekov's guns like a deeply unqualified gardner who should have been fired a long time ago and never given access to the guns safe. I knew that I wanted Lisa being taken in by Matt to parallel his own recovery from Stick, so it was sort of low-hanging fruit to have Fogs go off on the same rant. I also kind of liked it because I think time does a lot for reframing how we think of things.

Like, when Matt first gets Fogs' speech about Ancient Sumerian Men Beating The Hell Out Of Each Other, he's half starved, half feral, and trying to fling himself back out into the hostile streets of New York because he feels safer alone than he has ever felt with other people. He passes out, wakes up with a blanket over him and Fogs asleep at his desk even when he doesn't have to be. Like you said--it's the first time in a very long time that he's felt safe.

Then, when he's in the future, it's just very casual. It's not really framed as remarkable, and Matt doesn't hold it in his mind as something that glitters. I thought it showed an enormous amount of healing for him to be so comfortable with Fogs that he didn't seem to remember that this was something that once brought him to tears.

And you're also right about Matt bringing her there--it was easy recycling in the sense that i needed to answer the question of "where would he bring this traumatized child he doesn't know how to help" and figured the answer was "probably the place that helped him."

Thank you for your kind words they made me extremely happy and I'm very glad you like my writing

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

I'm gonna answer these both right now.

These have been sitting in my ask box for a few days and admittedly, I was just gonna let them rot there but.

Let's talk.

I write in my spare time. I don't get paid to write fanfictions ( unless they are commissioned pieces, which are all on a hold for the foreseeable future ), imagines, etc. It's something I do when I have the time & I have the muse to do so.

Why haven't I been writing as much?

-I suffered 2 major deaths in my family literally 2 weeks apart from each other. The first one, I was in vacation in another state & had to cut it short, turn around, and drive 1600 miles in 3 days to go home, pick up my family, drive to my other family, have the funeral, go through a tornado outbreak that same night while staying in a hotel & having nowhere to go, find out that some of my relatives houses were damaged & the city they lived in had been majorly damaged by the tornadoes, and then drive home. And then, 2 weeks later, there's another death on the other side of my family. So my summer was spent grieving and in funerals.

-Prior to that, I have depression!! I had a depressive episode that lasted for a hot minute where I didn't do anything!!

-NOW, I got a new job & am back to work for the first time in 1 year and 8 months. It took me a year and eight months to find a job that is nowhere even near my degree field. Wild shit. Anyways. My new job takes a LOT of mental strength. I work as an attorney's assistant. I work Wednesday & Thursday, all day. Fridays are my half days. Which doesn't sound bad!! Except I have a stack of things I have to file that is nearly 200 pages deep bc there was a gap between the person before me leaving & when I started that they got behind. So I'm busy 20 hours a week. & what I handle can be VERY emotionally hard, as I've recently found out. I can't share details bc privacy laws- but I have to read some not great shit.

-In the 4 days that I have off, I help my mother. I'm a partial caretaker for her; I do all of the grocery runs & doctor appointments in those spare times.

So. Yknow. I enjoy writing, I have requests that I've been working on & things in my drafts that I do work on in my free time, but like. I have a life, yknow? And I know everyone has shit going on in their personal lives, I get that. I know fanfiction & fandom is an escape.

But I'm just a person. I have a partner who I try to spend as much time as possible with bc we're long distance. There's a lot more happening that I'm not gonna talk about here because quite frankly- it isn't anyone's business.

I love writing. I love making fanfiction and I love writing requests but y'all have got to stop treating us writers like your personal fiction creators that exist only for your beck & call. Bc I've seen that happen a LOT over the last few years. Majority of us do this for free because we enjoy it. That's it.

So yeah. I will post when I have something done or if I have any silly little thoughts I wanna share about whichever character is taking up space in my brain.

K thanks bye.

[gud-soup]

Bun in the oven

Fluff! Nanami Kento x reader

a/n: Here's the little present I'm giving y'all because we all should go to therapy, but can't afford it. And it was HIGHLY OBVIOUS that we needed it from the convo on my previous post. I've missed this man SO. DAMN. MUCH. I just wanna shove my face on his big tiddies uggghh.... quite sad that I haven't wrote anything yet about him (actually I've noted SO MANY stories in my drafts about him, yet here I am, not giving af)

intro: A clueless bread lover, who just needs some rest

➳Masterlist

"Kentooo come here please!" You screamed from the kitchen "What is it honey?"

"Look!"

"Christ, you scared me, why did you do that?" Nanami asked sighing, he rushed, worried that something bad happened, when it was one of your silly stuff again

"What?"

"Why is there bread still wrapped in plastic in the oven?"

"Who are you?" You asked stepping back

"What? Y/n? Are you alright?" Nanami replied worried again

"You're not him, what did you do to my husband? He'd never simply say that it's bread, he would specify the type, smell, taste, and tell curious anecdotes and what combination with other food and drink would make an excellent meal. So... where is he? What did you do to him?" You asked dramatically, lightly smaking his arms at your last words

"Y/n, Y/n, relax, it's me, why did you put a bun in the oven?"

"What?"

"Why did you put a bun in the oven?"

"I don't know, you tell me! If there's anyone who needs to give an explanation here, it must be you" you giggled, hoping he’ll get the hint

"What? Y/n what's wrong with you today? I wasn't the one who put it in the oven, so it must be you! We're the only ones who live in this apartment!"

"Put what in the oven?" You dumbly asked, believing that at this point he’ll get it

"A bun! Y/n! You were the one who called me here because there's a bun in the oven, and I'm not understanding this ridiculous situation, what did you call me for?" Nanami replied exhausted

"Clearly, for what's in the oven" you said with a “duh” look

"Wha- Y/N! You're seriously making me impatient here! I see what's in the oven, but I'm not understanding what do you want me to do about it!" Your husband was slowly getting impatient, he didn’t want to start a fight with you. Work was already enough and he wasn’t willing to pull out all of his stress against you, at least not this way

"Kento, darling, look at me, take a deep breath, calm down, now, could you please repeat slowly what's in the oven?" You calmly said hugging him and looking at him with adoring eyes. This was it. He’ll finally understand

"Y/n, sweet angel, love of my life, listen, I'm sorry if I've lost my temper for such a FUCKING ABSURD SITUATION, but, I don't want to fight against some silly bread, so I'd go back to my reading, if you don't mind" Nanami quickly kissed your forehead sighing again, leaving the room while ruffling his hair, thinking at how ridiculous domestic life was with you sometimes.

"But Kento-" you mumbled trying to call him again

"No, Y/n, please, it's enough, I'll go and make some tea, and maybe use a few of those buns for some sweet snack" Kento stopped you before you could say more, eyes tired as never before

"But the bun, the oven..." you whispered pointing at the food

"Darling, please, I'm tired, and you should take some rest, also, please stop hanging out with Gojo so often, it's having terrible side effects on you" he said quickly hugging you while holding the tea

"Oh, a-alright, I guess, thought, it could be a good idea..." you tried to explain

"I'll be in the living room if you need me" he said kissing you again leaving the room with the mug you gifted him and a softer look on his face

.

.

.

*2 HOURS LATER*

"OH MY FUCKING GOD Y/N! A FUCKING BUN IN THE OVEN?! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME LIKE THAT THAT YOU'RE PREGNANT, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Note to reader: he's aggressive reaction immediately changed as soon as he found you munching a couple of buns with a confused puppy look as he kissed you pationately, only similar to the one of your wedding, swinging you around and lifting you up, not ready to let you go. He wanted to hold his entire world forever and stop the time just to taste this sweet moment you were sharing, and maybe, just maybe, he also didn’t want you to see him crying, again.

That’s all! This was a little something, veeeerrryyy short. Now that I think about it, I want to write so much more about him as I’m still not over him!

Let me know if it was alright!

See ya ✌🏽

Byeeeee

-P

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader

Day 2 of Fictober

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader

Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!

A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!

Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”

Warnings: Blood

“ROCK WAR~!”

The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.

And yet you still heard a thump?

You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.

Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.

“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”

“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.

The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.

“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”

You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.

“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”

Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.

“Let me,” you seethed.

You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.

“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”

~~~~

“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”

The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.

It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.

“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”

Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.

Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.

“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”

~~~~

“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”

You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.

“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.

“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”

Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.

“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”

“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”

A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.

He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”

Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.

It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.

“What the fuck?!”

“Holy shit,”

Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.

“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”

“At least I did something!”

“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”

The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.

Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.

Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.

“Where’s My Shoe?”

The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.

“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.

“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.

You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.

You sighed. “I have to do everything.”

~~~~

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”

Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.

You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.

“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.

But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.

“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.

Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.

The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.

“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.

Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.

For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.

Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.

And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.

“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”

The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.

Like now.

“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.

You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.

“Y/n?” Ben asks.

You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.

Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.

You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.

~~~~

You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.

“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”

You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.

You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.

“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”

You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Big sap,” you chuckled.

He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.

“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.

You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.

“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”

You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.

There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.

You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”

He nudged you again with a charming smile.

“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”

You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.

“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”

“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”

You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.

You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”

He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”

[tragically-broken]

Nessian Librarian/Professor Part4

Ship: Nessian  Type: Librarian/Professor AU  Rating: T Word Count: 1,439

Hey, y'all!! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I've been working on my own WIP and found it far too difficult to be in multiple worlds in my head at once, so I had to pause on my fic writing. Fortunately, I just finished my skeleton draft of my book and I am now taking a break to let it marinate before I dive into truly editing. This means I get to spend time on my fics again! YAY! Hopefully, I'll finish this full series soon but I won't make any promises. Hope you enjoy <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 

AO3

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Nesta was rearranging the study desks in the Quiet Room when Cassian came sauntering in.

“Hey, gorgeous!” He made his way to her, kissing her on the cheek. Nesta blushed and batted him away, eyes darting towards the door.

“Don’t let Amren see you!” She tugged him away to the corner where she knew the security cameras wouldn’t reach, and most importantly, where Amren couldn't see. She checked the doors one last time before she guided him to pin her against the corner wall.

“Someone is eager today,” Cassian smirked, less than an inch from her lips.

“Shut up Cas.” Their moment was heated, electrified, and definitely not library-appropriate.

“I could get used to this,” Cassian muttered against her lips as she smiled up at him.

“What are you doing here anyway? You’re supposed to have one more class.” She reached up to twirl a strand of his hair that must’ve come loose from his bun during the day.

“Keeping tabs on me are you?” She pinched his arm playfully in response.

“Hey, hey!” Cassian laughed. “I canceled my last class since they did so well on their test last week. Their reward is a free day.”

“Lucky me.” Nesta beamed.

“Lucky us.” Cassian dipped down to kiss her again, bunching her skirt in his fists. Desire licked her skin as the fabric of her skirt was roughly dragged against her thighs and his tongue slipped deeper into her mouth. She moaned softly against his lips before remembering where she was. She reluctantly pulled away from him.

“Amren will notice my absence.” She breathed, lips lingering an inch from his.

“Better get going then,” he spoke softly against her lips. She never wanted to leave. She leaned in for another kiss and then backed away quickly, teasing him as she moved back into eyeshot of the security cameras.

“You little minx!” She laughed and made her way to the door when she was met with gold piercing eyes, not at all happy to see her.

“Hi, Amren. I just finished rearranging the desks.” Nesta brushed a stray hair behind her ear.

“So it seems.” She wasn’t looking at Nesta with those deadly eyes, she was looking at Cassian.

“Evening Amren.” Cassian nodded in her direction.

“Yes, how wonderful to know you can tell when the sun is going down.” Amren's face gave way to nothing but pure annoyance as she stared him down.

“Nothing gets past you!” Cassian smiled, completely unaffected by Amren.

“No. It doesn’t.” Amren’s eyes bore into his. Cassian seemed to decide that he preferred to be alive for the time being and leave immediately.

“Well, I’ll get out of your way and let you ladies finish up here.” Nesta could tell he resisted the urge to touch her as he passed but decided against it given their particular audience.

“How kind of you.” Cassian nodded at Amren and snuck behind her to get to the door. Only when he left completely did Amren look at Nesta.

Cassian mouthed “sorry” outside the glass door and then darted for the double door exit.

“Careful with that one. Many have tried, and none have succeeded.” Amren hadn’t moved an inch since she walked in, but somehow she overpowered any energy in the room.

“We’ve only just begun dating.” Netsa stuffed her hands in the pockets of her dress, feeling awkward talking about her personal life to someone she barely knew.

“Yes well, that seems to be where the trouble usually starts.” Was Amren even blinking?

“I appreciate the heads up, but I have everything under control.” Nesta tried to reassure her with a smile.

“Hmmm” Amren hummed to herself, not at all convinced as she eyed Nesta. “You have exceeded even my expectations since you arrived here to take over this position. Seeing as it’s the weekend, why don’t you head out early today. I can finish things up here.” Nesta looked at her in shock. Quite frankly, she had no idea what Amren thought of her. She was all sharp looks, judgmental glances, and blank stares. It was hard to get a read on her.

“Thank you Amren. I’ve enjoyed my job here and hope to continue doing so.”

“Very well.” Amren’s short heels clicked in a steady beat as she walked out before Nesta could wish her a good weekend. Her first instinct was to pull out her phone and text Cassian like a love-sick teenager, but she decided not to read too much into it.

N: Amren set me loose early!!

C: THE FIREDRAKE SET U FREE?! I was half-convinced she’d chain u there forever.

N: She’s more bark than bite.

C: I’ll take your word for it.

Nesta gathered her keys and wallet, shoving them in her purse to get ready to leave.

C: What do u think about staying at my place this weekend?

Nesta stopped in her tracks, staring at his message.

N: All weekend? Like, overnight?

C: Just an idea! Thought it might be fun.

Nesta hadn’t spent the night at a man’s house well, ever actually. Every Time she’d stayed at Thomas’s place, she’d wake up at sunrise and scurry home. She never felt comfortable living in his space. That should have been the first clue that he wasn’t the one for her. She’d made excuses and ignored her gut. Never again. She listened to her instincts now and her gut felt...fine? She found herself a bit nervous about morning breath and her early morning grumpiness, but other than that the idea of spending the weekend with Cassian sounded wonderful and all kinds of sinful if things went the way she thought they would.

C: I promise not to leave the toilet seat up :p

N: You better not.

C: Is that a yes, princess??

N: It’s a yes. Unless of course, I change my mind.

C: Challenge accepted. Not even you can turn down my killer breakfast skills!

N: We’ll see if you can put your money where your mouth is.

C: Oh, I can guarantee my mouth is more than capable. See you tonight ;)

Butterflies fluttered in Nesta’s stomach at the thought of sleeping under the same roof with Cassian let alone in the same bed. Her cheeks heated at the thought. Suddenly, a million thoughts crossed her mind at once about what she should wear, what she should pack, and whether or not it would be considered rude to bring a book with her. Her palms started to sweat as she walked outside and towards her car. Should she bring something sexy to wear or would that be too obvious? Did it matter? Come to think of it, she didn’t think she even had a scrap of lingerie anymore. She burned every memory of Thomas and that included all of her sensual attire. Nesta sighed as she turned the key to crank her car on. There were so many decisions to make that overwhelmed her, but then Cas’s face popped into her head. Suddenly, she realized her desire to know him, to be close to him, outweighed any nervousness she had. She smiled to herself as she started to drive home. The feeling in her chest was so unfamiliar to her. Was she falling in love with him? That couldn’t be true. It had only been a few weeks. Yet, she felt that feeling surge in her chest. And then the panic came.

She didn’t have time to fall in love. She had too many things she wanted to do first, things she wanted to be. She spent too long in her previous relationship putting her life on pause. She wouldn’t do that again. That decided it then. She wouldn’t tell Cas how she felt, she’d try not to get any more attached, and she’d do her best to appreciate the moment for what it was and nothing more. She refused to think about the future, or what could be. She would never again put her life on the back burner for someone else. She pulled up into her driveway, hustled into her house, and packed quickly without putting too much thought into her choices. She looked to her full-length mirror, overnight bag in hand, wearing workout spandex shorts and an oversized crop top. She took a deep breath. She could do this. She could have fun with a sexy professor without getting too attached and ruining her life. Right? She didn’t wait to answer her own question. She got back in her car, typed his address in her phone, and began to drive, hoping she wasn’t making another life-altering mistake.

_______________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think, but please not ACOSF spoilers!!! I know I'm horrible and haven’t read it yet ajdhgkajdfh

[demonfox38]

Okay. Made it through the last season of Netflix's "Castlevania" interpretation. Thoughts are below the cut.

I've often thought of this series as the exploitation version of "Castlevania," and hiring Malcom McDowell confirms that.

Although, I find it hilarious that both Malcolm McDowell and Patrick Stewart have ended up voicing the same character. I'm sure there's a "Star Trek Generations" joke to be made in there, but I'm not Mike Stoklasa.

Also, I was cracking up a bit when Varney's plot twist happened. Mostly, because it came off a bit Skeletor-esque in vocal performance.

Also, also—laughing that the final boss went the "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence" route despite barely touching on that game's plot.

Animation had its ups and downs with this season. It seemed like there were some frame issues (not enough inbetweening.) I do appreciate how they incorporated more of Alucard's SOTN animations into his fights, however.

Additionally, some of the fight scenes' pacing seemed to have issues, particularly regarding weapon recovery.

The whole bit with St. Germain was off. Like, he's a weird asshole in "Castlevania: Curse of Darkness", but he's more of a weird asshole there in the same way that casually encountering "Doctor Who"'s Doctor would also be strange. Not a straight up villainous boob. Kinda makes sense thematically to have another character who is willing to do horrible shit for their lost loved one, but the series honestly did not do a good job establishing her. Like, did she even have a voice actor? Or a name? All I'm saying is it was much easier for outsiders to get the Lisa revenge thing Dracula had going.

Also, how dare you joke about not being deaf and then have a villainous monologue, TV show.

Greta's a good girl. Well, outside of being an occasional homewrecker. Point is, she's competent and trying her best to save people in a bad situation, and anyone having issues with her is not to be trusted in the same way that you don't trust people who don't like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2."

Look at me. Do not trust people who do not like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2." Yes, her writing could have been better, but she's still a viable character. Let people Thunder Child their ships on the rocks of your better self. Got me?

Also, y'all really need to embrace more polyamory. Or understand the fact that Alucard's not going to love just one person in his life. Dude lives to be at least 600 in the game's timeline. For a dude who loves humans, constricting him to just one who may live to be 100 at best is cruel.

There are some interesting philosophical dialogues going on here, but I can see where some people may lose their patience for them. Considering one of Castlevania's most popular memes is a philosophy debate, you're just gonna have to suck that up. My personal favorites included the topic of acting versus reacting, as well as having agency in one's story.

Striga's battle theme was cool, but otherwise, the music was forgettable. Yes, that is a sin. Punishable by Death? In this series, maybe!

The gore's still over the top. Which, okay, fine. There's a bit of that in game. It's just generally a bit more reserved with it or uses it in crucial boss fights.

RIP doggie.

The Targoviste plot's a bit of a wash, but it doesn't feel as useless as Trevor and Sypha's previous plot predicament. It's just nothing of a surprise, considering how many times the writing has played the "authority figures are useless" and "dark secret surprise" tropes in this series. Like, Greta being reliable is actually more surprising than anything with this plot.

I cannot emphasize enough how boring I found Carmilla's interpretation and plot arc. You guys could have had a giant, naked lesbian riding a skull and spewing magic at people while her cat-eared girlfriend jumped them for extra damage. But no. Vanilla lady with a scarlet sword for you. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Good night.  

Gotta say, as much of a deviation from his source character as he is, Isaac really turned out well in this series. He's definitely evidence that you don't always need to stick to source material.

His Abel is fucking sick, dude. Way to go, king.

Also, I was expecting more violence from Hector this season. Oh, well. At least he got a teeny bit of a spine.

Look. I'm not an alchemist by any means. I'm just a bit baffled by this season's emphasis of obtaining a Rebis. Like, any time the game series has talked about the Magnum Opus of Alchemy, it's more been in pursuit of making a Philosopher's Stone (or at the very least, a Crimson Stone, as seen in "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence.") Pulling a Rebis out of the aether is…well. Could have been more interesting than it was. I mean, it was a bit nightmarish, but it really didn't do much.

Sypha's really never getting back to her family, is she?

Love the idea that the cross subweapon is basically a fancy chakram.

GERGOTH. BUDDY. FRIENDO.

Really appreciating the monster variety in these last two seasons. I mean, that's a big selling point of the "Castlevania" games. Not so much vampires standing around and bickering in dick-waving contests.

Breaking out of the bullet points to hit on the big subject of this season—that is, the ending being surprisingly happy.

There's been a lot of shit that's happened over the last few years. Obviously, a pandemic. Konami's run by pricks. Then, there's the situation with the allegations of sexual coercion with Warren Ellis. Additionally, the terrible ending of "Game of Thrones" likely impacted how this season was developed, considering it seemed to be chasing its progression in construction. (I mean, look at Carmilla and Daenerys.) I don't know how many people were happy with the last season of "Castlevania," but from my POV, it double-tapped itself in the foot with the way it pushed simultaneous sex and violence in its last two episodes. My point is, there was little taste for additional darkness, considering everything that has been happening. Society is drained.

A happy ending was what people really wanted. And man, did this pull through, in that regard. But, there's a conversation to be had in if this swerved too far or if it violates some artistic integrity to give people what they want. So, let's have it.

Look. Man. Have you seen a "Castlevania" ending? When you do it right, it's crumbled castles and rainbow-colored skies. If you do it really right, it results in a pretty girl holding the main character's hand. There is happiness in these games. Hope. Forgiveness and redemption. If this is supposed to be any bit an accurate interpretation of these games, it absolutely should end in such a joyful fashion. (Okay, maybe giving Dracula and Lisa a second honeymoon at the end was a bit much, but I get where people would want that.)

Did some items need to be addressed more? Absolutely. Alucard staking people and Hector getting sexually coerced into servitude are some pretty big topics to just wave away. (Oh, shit. That second part is even worse now with what Ellis was allegedly doing, isn't it?) I suppose I'm just glad the series didn't go full Sephiroth with Alucard. And at least Hector finally took some stand in his situation, even if it wasn't the bombastic, hateful revenge I'm used to seeing from this character in other stories.

I think the creators of this series were trying to save this show from the fate of "Game of Thrones." (To some extent, perhaps the "Voltron" re-interpretation as well.) There's so much media out there anymore that if a production team doesn't nail the ending, their creation gets wiped out of the collective consciousness. To that extent, I think the creators were successful in saving their series. Did it do damage to itself in yanking out of its construction and themes? A bit. But, in doing so, it pivoted back to being more like a proper "Castlevania" product. (And of course, by proper, I mean anything ignoring "Lords of Shadows." God, people need to stop chasing other products when developing "Castlevania" stuff and just let the series be as it is.)

I am very curious as to how much of this season was part of an original draft and how much was revised in backlash to everything that has happened. It doesn't seem like Trevor was intended to survive, but to some extent, Sypha had to. (I mean, until she has a kid, anyway. See "Lords of Shadows" series for dickery regarding that.) I'm also wondering if there was more intended for the Carmilla subplot, as much as the series was banging on about her invading locations. I'm not even sure St. Germain was intended to be a villain all along. Getting into a bitchfight with Death? Sure. Doing what he did here? That's a weird arc, dude.

If you come away from my POV with anything, it should be this: GO PLAY THE GAMES.

Do it. Do it, you ghouls. Go to the Steam store and download the "Castlevania Anniversary Collection." Boot up your PS3 or 4 or 18 or whatever and get "Symphony of the Night." Throttle Nintendo's stores until "Aria of Sorrow" or "Dawn of Sorrow" or "Harmony of Dissonance" or whatever rattles out of their moldy pockets. Find a ROM. Find an ISO. Just play a game. Especially, one of the ones made before 2010.

"Castlevania" as a game series isn't about hordes of vampires dick-waving at each other or edgy swearing or being grim and dark. Some of that stuff's there, sure. But, at its core, it's what game developers created when they looked at Universal Monster Movie creations and went "That's cool. Let's fight that!" It's a series about pushing technology in MMC chips to make rich, vibrant music. It's about flourishing artwork and layers of sprites dripping particles and gore onto players. It's sober and goofy and very pro curry.

The thing is, "Castlevania" players have their own unique connection to the series. We're the weirdos you see clapping their hands when a mutilated dinosaur shows up on screen. It's not because the monster alone is cool. It's that we've fought and struggled and bodied that thing through several floors like a goddamn "X-Men: Children of the Atom" stage. It's kicked our asses. We've kicked its ass. We've got a connection to it that you just don't get from passively watching it barf lasers through a computer monitor or TV screen. Like, you know how people go, "Well, the movie wasn't as good as the book?" It's obnoxious, sure. But, those who read the source materials have to go to the effort of constructing their own sets and people to understand what's happening. In a similar fashion, game players build up their own skill set to reach that next rung.

Maybe you don't always get a payout when you invest your resources into something. But, there is a sense of accomplishment, seeing what you can do.

There's a reason this series got an adaptation. I mean, outside of Konami's head executives wanting easy money. "Castlevania" is a fantastic video game series. Has it got a few problems? Oh yeah. Especially after outsourcing and pachislot machines became all the rage. But, there's a reason Simon and Richter Belmont are playable in "Super Smash Bros. Ultimate." There's a reason I spent a significant amount of time playing these games and writing or drawing fanworks for it. These games are wonderful. Beautiful. Difficult, but inspiring. Reasons I will still bang on about them decades years down the road.

When I get exasperated by layers of angst and edge lord content this Netflix series generated, I want you to know why. The roots of this show are good games held captive under poor management. Some people on staff know this. I wish they had more scenario and writing control. But mostly, I don't want to shit on them or their work. (Well, other than perhaps the obvious target.) I just want you to see what I love in these games.

And also to watch Crashervania. Because that's legit.

[etjwrites]

Here it is, the official ⚡️THORUNN⚡️ Spotify playlist, all 85 mins of it!

I listened to these songs quite a bit while drafting, revising, and putting the finishing touches on my novel, and it's carefully curated (if listening from the desktop, or premium on the app) to give y'all the perfect ⚡️THORUNN⚡️ listening experience. A good bit of these songs could apply to either Laine or Kenton, (though some are specific to each – kudos to you if you can accurately guess which!) but some also center around other characters – both friend and foe – and around themes from the novel: family, loss, forgiveness, hope.

The playlist starts off rather melancholy (given what happens to Kenton's family in the beginning of the book), and bounces back and forth between anger and grief – with some encouragement slipped in between here and there – before leading to a defiant, hopeful ending. I've included some relevant lyrics from each song (most under a cut, since there are 22 songs on this playlist) and there's a mix of styles and genres from a wide variety of artists, though it does trend in the alt/rock direction. Music from the 70's all the way to recent years has made the list, and there's even a South African song gracing this collection!

⚡️THORUNN⚡️ was released May 20, 2020, everywhere books are sold, and I would be utterly delighted if y'all gave this playlist a listen while reading. It'll definitely enhance your experience, and give you a peek into my state of mind while writing.

1. Fix You – Coldplay

When you try your best but you don't succeed When you feel so tired but you can't sleep Stuck in reverse

2. Umama – Sjava  

English Translation:

I miss my mom I am unable to go on I cannot continue I miss my mom

3. O-oh Child – The Five Stairsteps

Ooh child Things are gonna get easier Some day, yeah

4. Wolves – Down Like Silver

When I die let the wolves enjoy my bones When I die set me free When I die throw my ashes to the breeze When I die scatter me

5. Drifting – Adelitas Way

Maybe I'm drifting, maybe I'm lost Maybe I found every line I'd cross Some of us we haven't had a dream Drifting just like me

6. Gone Away –  Five Finger Death Punch

Maybe in another life I could find you there Pulled away before your time The world has grown cold Now that you've gone away

7. Nothing Makes Sense Anymore – Mike Shinoda

My inside's out, my left is right My upside's down, my black is white I hold my breath, and close my eyes And wait for dawn, but there's no light

8. Faint – Linkin Park

Time won't heal this damage anymore Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored

9. Talking to the moon – Bruno Mars

At night when the stars Light up my room I sit by myself Talking to the moon Tryin' to get to you

10. Still Here – Digital Daggers

Musing through memories Losing my grip in the grey I'd die to be where you are I tried to be where you are Every night I dream you're still here When I awake, you'll disappear

11. Speak to Me – Amy Lee

Be still, my love I will return to you However far you feel from me You are not alone

12. Running From My Shadow – Mike Shinoda

I'm running from my shadow but it's still there chasing me down I'll never win the battle I should have known it by now Just when I think I've found the end, I'm going back around again, Running from my shadow but it's still there chasing me down

13. Somewhere I Belong – Linkin Park

I want to heal, I want to feel, What I thought was never real I want to let go of the pain I felt so long I want to find something I've wanted all along Somewhere I belong

14. Waiting for the End – Linkin Park

Waiting for the end to come Wishing I had strength to stand This is not what I had planned It's out of my control All I wanna do is trade this life for something new Holding on to what I haven't got

15. Legends Never Die – League of Legends

When everything's lost, they pick up their hearts and avenge defeat Before it all starts, they suffer through harm just to touch a dream

16. Paint it, Black – Ciara

I see a red door and I want it painted black No colors anymore, I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

17. Robot Boy – Linkin Park

So you say you're not gonna fight 'Cause no one will fight for you Just hold, on the weight of the world Will give you the strength to go

18. Dear Agony – Breaking Ben

Dear agony Just let go of me Suffer slowly Is this the way it's got to be?

19. Soldier – Fleurie

Soldier keep on marchin' on Head down 'til the work is done

20. Gallows – Katie Garfield

Tell them something is coming There's blood in the water Give them a warning Let it all come crashing down

21. Here I am – Tommee Profitt

You can run but you can’t hide Out of the ashes I rise Here I am

22. Love Hurts – Incubus

Love hurts But sometimes it's a good hurt And it feels like I'm alive Love sings When it transcends the bad things

Can you tell I'm a Linkin Park fan?😉

Taglist:

@elaynab-writing @musicofglassandwords @sheabutterskyes @igotablankpage @writeanapocalae @alcego-writes @canallynwrite @fordewrites @valdifarniente @warofmywords

[uas-fics]

Chapter 2 Of ‘The Pandering Country Western Star’

Chapter 1 - Epilogue 

---

Kiwi snuggled down in Tweek's hair as Tweek tapped his finger on the table top. Craig's livestream would start any minute. Would Craig use the script Tweek edited for him? No, he probably scrapped it. It was too much. It didn't make his fans feel good about Craig keeping his personal life a secret from them.

The more Tweek thought about the whole situation, the angrier he got about it. Coming out is hard and terrifying. No one should be pushed to come out to the world like this — especially not at the hands of a bitter ex. Craig was right to break up with him! He dodged a bullet, as far as Tweek could tell.

Tweek's phone dinged and he picked it up, keeping one eye on the laptop in front of him. 

The text message was from Craig. 

"I'm going to start my livestream soon. Wish me luck? :)“

"Luck ;)" Tweek typed and chewed his lip. 

This was too risky to send. He didn't even know how long ago Craig broke up with his ex. Was it a month? A year? Two weeks? Was he pushing too fast? 

Besides, Craig probably didn't even see Tweek like that. He was a famous country star after all. There were men much more like him out there he could pursue. Men who were famous and used to Craig’s lifestyle.

With a sigh, Tweek went to delete the wink and replace it with a star or a smile, (he hadn't decided which one) when Kiwi took hold of a lock of Tweek's hair and pulled. Tweek yelped, his thumb going right down on the send button.

His heart froze in his chest as he stared down at his mistake. A scream rose up from his throat but died down the moment the livestream started a few seconds later.

Craig smiled at the camera, waving. He held up the black and white guinea pig from his wallet photo and moved his paw to wave as well.

"Howdy," He greeted, and Tweek realized just how much of an accent Craig put on for his fans. "There's quite a crowd here, huh, Astro? I think this is my biggest livestream yet."

Astro didn't look all that impressed. Craig set him down in his lap.

"I'm guessin' you're all here because I said I've got some really big news. I can tell from the chat, you all seem to think it's music related." Craig's smile strained. "It ain't."

Craig took a deep breath, scooting a little farther back. Best Tweek could tell the livestream took place in Craig's living room, which was nothing but Western aesthetic: decorations made with wood, barbwire, and rope covered the wall behind him along with a rustic painting of a pasture with some tiny black, white, and red dots (probably cows or horses, Tweek realized) on it.

"This isn't how I wanted to do this." Craig sighed. "I had other ideas. Plans much classier than this, when I was in a much happier place in my life, but circumstances changed. I want y'all to hear this from my mouth and not the front page of a magazine."

Craig shook once. His face twisted like he was going to vomit, but he swallowed any bile back down.

"I am gay," Craig stated simply, pulling Astro so he pressed against his stomach. "I have always been gay. Since I was still in my mama. That's just how it works. That's how God made it work."

Tweek tensed. Around this part was when he started to edit out the pandering. If Craig went on about God and how He has a purpose for him, then he threw out all Tweek did and went back to the first draft.

Craig's eyes flicked up, looking beyond the camera, then back. "This has been a hard decision for me and a shock for many of you, I'm sure. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe you could all tell and never bothered to let me in on the secret."

Tweek let out a breath he did not remember taking. He slumped forward so abruptly that Kiwi fell from his hair. Kiwi landed, somewhat gracefully, if a little wobbly, on the table.

"Sorry!" Tweek reached out to comfort Kiwi, but he turned and flew up to his perch in his cage.

Craig continued, "Like I said, this isn't how I wanted this to happen. I’d rather had y'all meet my husband after we got engaged or married, but that ain't gonna happen now, I guess."

Pain flashed across his face for a fraction of a second. "I'm sure y'all find out why when Country Western Living comes out since that's where my ex outs me. I think publishing it is downright dirty and shows a lack of journalistic integrity, but I'm not a rich ol' magazine editor." He shrugged. "What do I know — besides you don’t tell other folks secrets for money?"

Tweek couldn't help but smile. Craig was going to throw that magazine right under the bus for this, wasn't he?

"I can say, I spent years hiding myself from people, both family and friends, and from the world itself. It was hard, and I felt like a liar. I heard conversations about folks like me that made my stomach churn. Conversations that I'm sure wouldn't happen if the people in the room knew I was like the people they were talking about."

He cleared his throat. "Even if it's not a perfect coming out story, I think I'll be much happier now, and I know I can make music truer to my life and with more passion than ever before. I want this to be a good thing for all of us."

Astro pipped and began to roll out of Craig's lap. Craig smiled down at him then set him on the floor.

"Don't worry about Astro. I'm still keeping an eye on him. He's safe," Craig reassured. He settled himself back in his seat before continuing, "Now, I know some of you don't ‘agree' with people being gay, and, well, I can't change your mind, but if you don't, it isn't my problem."

Craig fixed the camera with a hard look, his accent falling for the last sentence.

That wasn't part of the first draft or the edited one. Craig was supposed to offer to answer questions from the livestream after he mentioned how coming out would make his life better.

Tweek leaned so close his nose nearly touched the laptop screen. 

He was proud for Craig. 

Even as he answered, somewhat invasive, questions about his sexuality, he seemed relaxed, as if a heavy weight hanging over him just dropped to the ground and missed him.

Well that's what it was, wasn't it? No more hiding. No more lies and fake girlfriend stories. No more feeling like a gay fly on the wall when people bash the community.

"Ok, um, Little.Shop.Of.Yaoi280, I don't know what a ‘uke' or a sea...seem...see-mee? Whatever are and I don't think I want to," Craig was saying as he read through the comments. "Yes, KittyKatLover, I have read the Old Testament. I also read all the verses that say God loves me and made me how I am. That's all I want to say about that."

Tweek finally fell back in his chair, running his hands through his hair, with a goofy smile on his face. Craig handled those kinds of questions a little better than Tweek did the first few times he got then online. Nowadays he deleted invasive or backhanded comments on sight. He used to argue, sometimes with sources, sometimes without, and it would keep him up at night with worry.

He'd have to advise Craig to copy his current method and not his old one.

"Ok, I think Astro wants to go nap with his brother and sister, so one more question," Craig muttered, more to himself than the stream. "Let's see...I like this one. PikachuKetchumAll151 asks me if I could have come out like I wanted with a husband at my side, what would I have said."

He hummed a moment. "I would have announced the man with me is the love of my life and I am blessed to introduce you all to him, but that isn't going to happen any time soon, unless," Craig smirked, "I get very lucky with dates in the near future." He winked.

Tweek fell out of his chair and to the floor, eyes wide. No. Craig didn't. He didn't just ask him on a date on a livestream like that, did he?

"Oh, jeez!" Tweek's mouth gaping open like a freshly caught trout as Craig finished up.

The screen was dark for only a few seconds before Tweek's phone began to ring. Shaking, Tweek answered it without looking at the number.

"Tweek?" Craig asked. His voice was nothing but excitement. "It's over. Did you watch it? All of it?"

"Did you ask me out on a livestream?"

"Hmmmm, no," Craig replied, almost coyly, and Tweek remembered how to breathe properly. "I wanted to ask if you'd like to hang out, actually. I'm not ready to date anyone else right now, but making friends who are also gay and have been out longer than me? I would like that."

Tweek forced his voice to stay steady as he replied, "Yeah, I'd like that too."

---

Red tapped her nails against the lacquered wood of her desk. Her stomach twisted with disgust. She might just vomit over all the negativity surrounding Craig.

She shook her head. No, it's a very vocal few. Most of the reaction towards Craig coming out as gay had been positive. He had plenty of congratulations and even some fanart for him with the Pride flag. Some celebrities even tweeted they were proud of him.

"About time. You'll be happier now, Craig! #LoveisLove" The frontman of Moop, Stan Marsh, tweeted. His partner, Red's old friend, Wendyl, as well as the rest of Moop, also sent Craig their support. Wendyl even went as far as to argue on Craig's behalf in the comments. 

Not that Red planned on showing that to Craig. She couldn't risk him getting involved in an online shouting match and ruining his aloof country boy persona.

Her eyes drifted over the copy of the magazine on her desk. Craig and Thomas were on the cover, walking out in a park and holding hands. Craig’s focus was solely on Thomas and not the beautiful scenery. They must have assumed deep in an isolated park would be a safe place for a secret date. Clearly, they were wrong. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Red skimmed the article. The picture Thomas claimed they would publish, one of him and Craig kissing, was nowhere to be found. Red didn’t believe Thomas lied about the photo. When he called, he was stammering nervously and the stress made his tic act up so badly he had to keep starting his sentence over and apologizing.

From Red’s best guess, the photo was probably on private property and the magazine couldn’t legally publish it, but this could use it against Thomas anyway. Not that it mattered in the end. Thomas already admitted he and Craig were dating in the article. 

Red closed the magazine then tossed it aside. Even if Thomas had been tricked into talking, he still was the reason Craig had been strong armed into coming out before he was comfortable, and that pissed Red off.

Grumbling to herself, she turned back to scrolling through the comments on Craig’s latest post, a picture of Petunia in sunglasses and a tiny cowboy hat. It never ceased to amaze her how much he dotes on his pets and treats them like his own children.

Unfortunately, even on a post of a rodent dressed as a cowgirl, people were making hateful comments and asking invasive questions.

Kevin opened the door, steaming bowls in his hand.

"I have leftover chili or microwave ramen." He held up the bowls in turn. "Which do you want?"

Red didn't look up from her computer. "Ramen."

Chili was too heavy and spicy for her stomach to handle. Kevin watered down the romen every time, so she didn't have to worry about making herself sicker.

He slipped the bowl next to her then looked over her shoulder with a frown.

"You need to take a break from those," He told her before spooning chili into his mouth.

"I want to, but I can't." She slurped up noodles. "I'm going to report every bashing comment that might break Twitter's terms of service so Craig doesn't have to see it." Twitter probably wouldn't do anything, even if the comment did break their TOS, but it made her feel better anyway, since Craig decided deleting comments would only make things worse.

Kevin rubbed between her shoulder blades. His hand was warm from the bowls, relieving some of the tension.

"Craig's a big boy, Red. He can handle some hate comments. He's probably been preparing for it for most of his adult life." Kevin set his bowl down to walk behind her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders then rested his chin on her head. Given how tall she was, when she sat was about the only time Kevin could do this.

"I know, but..." A noise of uncertainty left her throat.

He kissed the top of her head. "It'll be alright. Someone else will do something worse soon and everyone will forget about Craig being gay."

Red set a hand over one of Kevin's, smiling softly. He was such a good husband, so caring and sweet and understanding. She hoped Craig would find someone like that for himself one day.

"Hey, do you know who the guy Craig's been texting nonstop is? Some gay internet celeb, right? The one who helped him with the script?" Red asked abruptly.

"Tweek Tweak, I think is his name," Kevin replied. "I checked out his channel: he's got an alright voice and seems like a good guy. Craig really likes him. We should take bets if this is another case of Tuckers falling in love instantly."

Red rolled her eyes at the joke.

“Good thing I’m a Stoley now, huh? Or you would be worried."

Kevin laughed. “Good thing for both of us!”

Red hummed to herself a moment before pushing back her chair, nearly sending Kevin to the floor. She jumped to her feet and spun around.

"I'm done with this for tonight," Red announced, taking Kevin's hand. "You're right anyway. Craig is a big boy." She kissed his cheek. "So, com'on, let's go watch ‘Battlestar Galactica’."

---

The house was much less "Cozy Ranch, Sweet Tea with Lemon on the Table Next to a Fresh  Rhubarb Pie" Charm than Tweek expected, Craig could tell just by the confused expression on his face as he looked around the living room. After the livestream, Craig put most of the western decoration back in the attic where it usually stated. If he had to stare at a ‘Live, Laugh, Ride Horses’ on the wall all the time, he’d vomit. Every time he had tried to ride a horse before, it either nearly threw him off or tried to eat his fingers. He could live and laugh  just find without them

"Something wrong?"

"No. It's just...big. Wow. Way bigger than my apartment." Tweek spun around. "If I let Kiwi loose here, I'd never see him again."

"It's not that big," Craig defended, deciding not to mention that was the main reason he didn't like his own pets wandering outside their pen without him around. Once he and Stan and Kevin spent the better half of a day searching for Stripe when he escaped from the pen

"I think my parents' coffee shop could fit in here," Tweek muttered, bending down to get a closer look at a stone carving Craig got from a trip to Peru.

"You're parents own a coffee shop?" Craig put his hands in his pockets. "So you're from a business family?"

"It is why I have my degree in business management." Tweek reached his hand to touch the nose of the carving but flinched back. "Did you ever go to college? I mean, I think Stan said he met you in college, didn't he?"

Craig picked up the carving, making Tweek stumble back a few steps.

"I left to become a music star," He twisted the carving over, brushing his fingers along the maker's mark at the bottom, "but I was learning about the physics and chemistry required in the fuel propulsion of jets and rockets."

Tweek blinked at him. "So you left college to be a rocket scientist to sing about drinking beer and trucks."

"You know," Craig set the carving back on the table, "my parents had the same reaction."

"You could have gotten us to Mars." Tweek straightened up. "But, you know, I admire that you took the chance and left that path to follow your dream." He grinned. "Really. It's admirable. My parents would have flipped out if I dropped everything to tour." 

He paused then quickly added, "Not that I want to. I like being able to record from my house. Little stage performances are enough for me."

Craig laughed. "No, I understand. It's pretty heart pounding to have a million eyes on you at once."

Tweek shuddered at the thought.

"Hey, come on, my kids are excited to meet you." Craig put his hands on his shoulders and steered Tweek out of the living room and down the hall.

"I've been telling them only good things these past weeks," Craig continued. "How talented you are and what nice handwriting you have." He paused at a door. "I let Petunia sniff your revision, and she loved it so much she nibbled on the paper."

Tweek snorted as Craig opened the door.

The pen took up a sizeable corner of the room and was surrounded by a knee height fence. Inside were several beds and many toys and hidey holes for his pets. Craig noticed one of the sipper bottles was getting low and made a note to refill it, along with their food dish which somebody (Probably Stripe) knocked over into the bedding again.

“Wow.” Tweek’s mouth gaped. “I thought guinea pigs were kept in cages like hamsters, not something like this.”

“I built it myself,” Craig proclaimed, “though, I went a little overboard in size. Three pigs don’t need this much room.” 

His plan was to let Petunia have a litter and have himself an army of guinea pigs, but once recording and touring started up, Craig found it was hard enough providing enough care and affection for the ones he had, so he took all three to the vet to be neutered. According to the vet, they  would live happier and healthier lives that way anyway.

One of the guinea pigs shuffled around in the hammock and poked a nose out. Petunia looked around before spotting Craig. She gave a squeak and scrambled out to hurried over, probably expecting treats. Her noisy journey from the hammock made the other two peek out from sleeping under a fake log.

Craig stooped down and picked up Petunia. He held her out for Tweek to hold.

"She doesn't bite," Craig mentioned when Tweek hesitated. "Promise."

Tweek took her and held her carefully to his chest. Stroking her long, brown fur, Tweek leaned over the small fencing to look at the others.

"She's soft and those two are really cute," he complimented with a nod to Astro and Stripe the Sixth.

"Thank you. I'm proud of my boys," He reached over and scratched Petunia between the ears, "and my baby girl."

Petunia moved her head against his palm with a happy noise.

Astro grew jealous at the attention Petunia was getting and began to get rowdy in the pen to steal some of it for himself. With a smile, Craig stepped into the pen and sat down. Instantly, Astro was in his lap with Stripe the Sixth settling down next to his leg.

Tweek wavered a moment before following after Craig and taking a seat in the pen.

He opened his mouth when his body went stiff.

"Ack!" He pulled his hand to his chest. "She licked me!"

A grin spread across Craig's face.

"That means she likes you." He scooted closer so they sat side by side, much to Stripe’s annoyance as he had just got comfortable.

"Like a dog?" Tweek stared down at Petunia in awe. Clearly, Tweek hadn’t had more interactions with rodents than average house mice.

"Yes, they are very affectionate critters." He pressed his leg against Tweek's, resting his palm on Tweek’s knee. Tweek tensed, but relaxed a moment later and didn't move away.

"Oh? They are? Well, you know, this," Tweek whistled softly, "is what birds do when they like you. They talk around you and sing."

"I didn't know that." Craig leaned a little closer. Their shoulders were touching now.

"Yeah. They sing and tweet all day if they're happy and safe."

Craig hummed a wordless tune, raising his finger to brush a lock of Tweek's hair back. Before his hand left, Tweek set his on top of it to keep it against his cheek.

"Do you want to know what guinea pigs do when they like someone?" Craig tilted his face towards him.

Tweek mimicked the action, twisting his body a little and disturbing Petunia. She made a whining squeak, alerting Tweek that his action displeased her, though he paid her little mind.

"What else?" He asked as his fingers gently squeezed Craig's hand.

"Something a little like..."

The gap between them grew steadily smaller and smaller until Craig pressed his lips against his.

"This." He pulled back, tapped the ends of their noses together, then pressed his luck to kiss Tweek again.

After a few blissful moments, the two parted completely.

This time when Petunia was disturbed she crawled out of Tweek's lap to trot to Craig's. She climbed over his crossed legs and snuggled down next to Astro.

"W... w... " Tweek stammered.

For a fleeting moment, Craig's chest gripped with worry that Tweek might be trying to say "Why did you do that?!" or "What made you think I wanted that?"

"’Wicked’..." Tweek finally breathed.

A snorting laugh escaped through Craig's nose. "I guess it was. Maybe even ‘radical’ or ‘tubular’?" He teased.

"No, I mean," Tweek chuckled, "'Wicked' like the musical. Jimmy gave me tickets to a performance he's helping with next month. Would you like to come? Like as a date?"

If he could grin any wider, his face would have split right down the middle.

"I'd like that, but you know what I'd like even more?"

Tweek's face dusted pink but he smiled too.

"What?"

"You let me take you out for a date tonight since I don't want to wait a month." Craig moved Stripe to his lap as well. The two already there made irritated squeaks but allowed their sibling to snuggle down between them.

Tweek nodded, pushing his hair back from his face.

"As long as there's no mechanical bull wherever you take me." He laughed. "My friend, Jason, rode one once and broke his arm when he fell off."

Craig's expression twisted into disgust before he could stop himself. Tweek furrowed his brow, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Tweek, I have a confession:" he took a breath, "I hate country music."

Tweek stared at him before bursting out into laughter.

"Oh, right, uh-huh." He elbowed him in the side. "That's a good one. If you want to go someplace with a bull, that's fine. Just don't expect me to ride it."

"I'm serious," Craig deadpanned. He leaned to allow his head to fall back. "I guess ‘hate’ is a strong word. I used to like it. I was raised on the stuff, after all."

Tweek lifted himself on his hands to turn to fully face him. His prompting look encouraged Craig to continue.

"When you said you thought it was admirable that I left school to pursue my passion, well, it was actually the opposite. Rocket science is my passion. Music is a job."

"What?" Tweek shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. That's not how it works."

"That's how it ended up." Craig shut his eyes. "Stan needed help taking all his Moop stuff to a venue, so I offered my car. The owner's daughter overheard me singing to myself and said she'd pay me to sing for her."

"Did you?"

"Thirty dollars for singing a cheesy country love song to a girl? Hell yeah, I did." Craig snickered at the memory. "After that, she told me she could get me on stage for a bit if I wanted. I didn't want a glamorous life of a music star, but I was a broke college student and performing there got me a free dinner and whatever tips I made."

He opened his eyes with a frown. "Then it all kind of snowballed from there. I got asked to come to sing there more and more and soon other places were asking for me, and Red offered to be my manager and before I knew it," he fell back, startling the guinea pigs, "I was famous."

Tweek stared at him, big blue eyes searching his face before he took a breath. "Why would you keep doing something that makes you unhappy?"

Craig shrugged. "Money. I sing what people want to hear from me and, until recently, pretended to be what they wanted completely. Just a good old Southern boy who sings songs that pander to other good old Southern boys."

"So, are all your songs just pandering? That can't be all you ever wrote." Tweek chewed his lip. His brow furrowed. Craig could only assume he was thinking about all the songs of Craig's he knew to check himself.

Craig pushed himself up onto his forearms. "I didn't write any of my songs, actually. When I was first starting, Red introduced me to a lyricist. He'd make the lyrics. I'd help with the instrumentals if he needed it."

"That...really?" Tweek moved to sit on his knees.

"Yeah, his name is Thomas." A pang hit his stomach, but he took a breath and went on, "Thomas actually did live a country life, a little. More to draw from than I have. He has Tourettes, and his mom sent him to a ranch camp for kids like him every summer from when he was eight to eighteen."

"Wow, so you’re really a fake," Tweek replied, unamused.

“I don’t auto tune myself or lip sing during concerts. Besides, I’m not the only one. An old member of Moop, Eric Cartman? He left to make a Christain Rock band called Faith+1. Fucker’s as far from a holy Christain man as you can get.” Craig snorted. “He’s even more in it for the money than I am. At least I care about my fans a little. That man would push them into the fires of Hell himself if he was offered a dime for it.”

“But you’re still faking! I mean,” Tweek ran a hand through his hair, “all of your songs can’t be pandering party songs, can they?”

"I do have one song that wasn't just a cash grab."

"Oh, yeah? Which one?"

"‘Hazel Eyes.'"

Tweek’s face twisted in thought as he tried to recall the song. Craig couldn't blame him if he didn't know it. ‘Hazel Eyes' barely broke the top forty for a week then faded into song obscurity. It was still his favorite, though for bittersweet reasons now.

Craig hummed the first two bars at the start of the chorus before he sang, "Black hair; Hazel eyes, looking at me with love long disguised. Hold my hand where dad and mom can't see. Let me with you and you with me. Please never look away from the future of we, my lovely hazel eyes."

Realization crossed Tweek's face.

"I remember that song. I really liked it, but didn't know the title."

Craig bobbed his head. "Thomas wrote that for me."

"Didn't he write everything for you?"

"No, I mean for me. Thomas...he was my boyfriend. I'm the ‘Hazel Eyes' the song talks about." Craig winced, realizing that bringing up a love song his ex wrote him with the man he just kissed was not his best plan.

"Oh..." Tweek chewed his lip "Wasn't Thomas the ex who..."

"Yeah, that Thomas," Craig confirmed. "I think that's another reason I don't like country much anymore. Everything I sing is by him. It's just salt in the wound."

A hand fell on his shoulder, so Craig lowered his gaze from the ceiling. Tweek smiled softly at him.

"Do you want to write a song with me? I'm not the best. I didn't go to college for it or anything, but maybe together we could make something good."

"So, what I told you isn't a deal breaker?" Craig asked.

Tweek shrugged. "No, I guess not. Maybe I can help you break into other genres, or if you want to leave professional music altogether and be a rocket scientist, I can help with that, too, if you want. I find people are much happier when they can be themselves and follow their passions."

Craig stared at him before chuckling. Tweek was such an amazing person.

---

The night wind was pleasant as Craig and Tweek walked side by side down the street. Craig readjusted his coat. For once, he didn't look like something a western store threw up on: A blue zip-up jacket over an old Moop shirt, black skinny jeans, and a chullo hat with a geometric pattern and yellow tassels.

Tweek mocked the skinny jeans when he first noticed them until Craig pointed out that's what he had on as well. At that point, Tweek blushingly hurried them into the theater to find their seats.

Craig raved excitedly about the play they'd watched. Tweek was so pleased that Craig liked it. He'd suggested it on a whim. It was the first idea his brain could provide him with that wasn't ‘kiss him again, you fool!' He hadn't expected Craig to actually agree, but he hadn't expected Craig to confess he’d grown disenchanted with singing country music, either.

"Alright, so were Elphaba and Glinda low key in love or something? Or am I just reading that subtext now that I'm allowing myself to?" Craig wanted to know, lightly swinging their combined hands while they passed under a streetlamp.

Tweek laughed. "I've never read the book, but in the musical, it's platonic, I think."

"You've never read the Wizard of Oz?" Craig stopped and fixed Tweek with a startled expression.

"What? Of course, I have!" Tweek scoffed. "‘Wicked' is based on a book that’s based on the ‘Wizard of Oz’. I've never read it, so I don't know if Elphaba and Glinda are lovers there or not."

Craig chuckled. "Well, I'm going to assume they fucked at Shiz at least once."

With a chuckle of his own, Tweek began to reply when a new voice cut him off.

"Hey! Hey! Craig, you—cocksucker!”

Tweek flinched, spinning around. Sooner or later, he knew some crazed fan would come to harass them. Why did it have to be tonight though? Even with the skinny jeans thing, the night was going so well!

As the man neared, Tweek’s heart pounded in his ears. They weren't too far from the theater, so there had to be more patrons nearby who could call the police if a fight broke out, right? 

Scanning around, he saw only a huddle of people across the street, though they seemed to pay the couple and the yelling man no mind.

A disheveled man with short, messy hay-colored hair ran up to them and Craig stiffened. The man had bags under his eyes so deep that they rivaled the ones Tweek had when he was in the worst of his teenage anxieties.

"S-sorry!" He stammered, doubling over to pant. "I didn't mean to say--fuck!--that."

Tweek straighten. He wasn't much taller than the man, and nowhere near as tall as Craig, but he could be intimidating if he wanted to be.

"What do you want? We're busy right now," Tweek told him firmly. If they left quickly before this man started shouting at them, the night could still be salvaged.

Craig put his hand on Tweek's shoulder. He turned to him, and Craig shook his head.

With a deep breath first, Craig looked to the man. In an uninterested tone, he greeted, "Hello, Thomas."

Tweek stifled a gasp. Thomas? The Thomas? The one who forced Craig to out himself? That asshole?

Rage bubbled up in Tweek. He gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists. If this jerk tried to cause trouble he would—

Craig wrapped his hand around his and squeezed without breaking eye contact with Thomas.

Thomas looked at their hands then looked away guiltily.

"Craig, I need to talk to--asshole! I need to talk to you." He chewed his lip. "Please."

"Why? So you can sell whatever I say to a magazine again?" Craig somehow remained coolly detached when he spoke. Thomas winced as if Craig just punched him in the gut.

"Craig, please, I didn't mean to. They had--they had a picture of us and--Balls shit!--we were kissing. How could I reply to that? Mother fucker! There was nothing I could have done! They would have run the picture anyway if I didn't answer. I--shit cock!-- I had to tell the truth!"

Thomas slumped forward, shrinking down like a dog about to be scolded for breaking a vase.

"I'm sorry. I did what I thought was best for you."

All at once, Craig’s aloof attitude broke. A low growl ripped from his throat as he stomped forward a step, getting into Thomas' personal space.

Jabbing a finger at his chest, he snarled, "‘Best for me'? If you wanted what was best for me you would have called me when it happened. Not Red. Me. You would have stood by me and helped me figure this out, but you wussed out on me and didn’t even answer my calls."

Thomas’ breath shook as he took it. He blinked hard, but under the streetlamp's light, he couldn't hide that his eyes were wet. 

A pang of pity hit Tweek's stomach. 

Thomas still loved Craig and probably did do what he thought was best. The cold indifference then a blast of sheering hot fury must have hurt more than Thomas let on.

Tweek reached out and grabbed a tassel of Craig's hat. Pulling it, he managed to make Craig step back.

"I'm sorry. I got scared, Craig! I'm not...Look at me! Who would want to come out dating someone like me?" He whimpered.

"I did — would! I never gave a fuck about your tics or how you looked." He squeezed Tweek's hand so hard, that Tweek bit back a yelp. Craig didn’t notice. "But that doesn't matter now, I guess. Goodbye, Thomas."

Craig pulled Tweek down the street. Tweek looked over his shoulder to see Thomas sigh heavily and slowly walk the way he came. The huddle of people instantly turned their attention to him when he neared. They started to console Thomas, but Craig took Tweek around a corner before he could see more.

"Craig..." Tweek started, "Um...that was—"

"Harsh?" Craig stopped, and Tweek bumped into his back. "Yeah, I know. It's the first time we've seen each other in months. He's been avoiding me. I guess it all came up at once."

Tweek twiddled his thumbs. It wasn't his place to say, but he couldn't hold his tongue on this. "I think he really was sorry."

"Yeah, I know," Craig repeated. "I know." He sighed. "Sorry. I just...I'll forgive him some time, but not right now. He threw my whole life out of sync and didn't even have the guts to help me set it back up. I think I'm entitled to making him squirm a little."

Tweek shrugged nervously. "Yeah, maybe, but you're not going to make him suffer too much, right?" 

At least Thomas seemed to have friends to help him through Craig’s retribution, but Tweek still felt pity for him. Breaks up hurt, he knew that from experience, but all Tweek's breakups had been over issues much more trivial or minor than what Craig and Thomas went through.

"Another couple of weeks or a month, and I'll reach out," Craig muttered after a moment's thought, "but, Thomas and I are over. I couldn't ever trust him fully again." He flashed a smile at Tweek before taking his hands gently in his. "At least, I got one good thing out of this."

He bent down and kissed Tweek, slow and sweet. Tweek chuckled and rested his forehead against his.

"I wish I'd been able to meet you when I was younger. I think you would have made an awesome first boyfriend," Craig said with a lopsided smile. 

"You know, I think I just thought of a great idea for a song if you'd like to head back to my place for the night and work on it," Tweek offered.

"I'd love that."

---

AN: Epilogue posted in a week

[whatbutandreil]

i had an ask sitting in my inbox for a couple of months bc i didn't really know what i wanted to say, but i lost the ask:/

unfortunately, when i tried to save my response to my drafts, tumblr just,, fuckin deleted it, so im sorry to whoever asked it:/ but i have my response now. the ask said "what(or who) got you into tfc?" to the person who asked this question, thank you. this has been a really great reflection. so uh,, here's my answer:

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i kinda hate the way i came into tfc bc it was in a way that didn't respect the wishes of my, now friend on twitter, ziegenkind.

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basically, i was scrolling on pinterest, as you do, and i fell into a hole of like,, gay fanart? (not a question, just a little self-reflection on how fucking queer i am. how did i not fucking know?)

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anyway, so, i was scrolling, as you do, and i found @ziegenkind 's stunning painting of andrew and neil on the bottom bunk of the dorm bed (y'all know the one) and i was like "whooooo,, the fUCk are these two cuties (ʘ‿ʘ)??"

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PSA : DONT REPOST PEOPLE'S ART WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION, ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE EXPLICITLY SAYS NOT TO. THIS COUNTS AS REPOSTING IF YOU POST SOMEONE ELSE'S ART TO PINTEREST, INSTAGRAM, TUMBLR, TWITTER, FACEBOOK, ANY SOCIAL MEDIA. DO NOT QRT PEOPLE'S ART ON TWITTER IF PEOPLE SAY NO. YOU ARE NO EXCEPTION. AND DONT FUCKING ERASE PEOPLE'S WATERMARKS AND DEFINITELY DONT REPLACE THEM WITH YOUR OWN. DONT FUCKING DO IT. to the lovely ziegenkind, (it's julian from twitter (^o^)丿) it's so fuckin unfortunate that i found your art through reposts and it's fucking horrible that people don't listen, but thank you for being my bridge into this fandom and im very grateful to have found you and been able to talk with such an angel. you quite literally changed my life forever and i can't thank you enough:') im eternally grateful for that. BUT DONT FUCKING REPOST DIPSHITS

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anyway, so, naturally, i sat in my bed for 3 hours at 1am on a school night, as you do, scrolling through andreil fan art and trying to figure out who the fUCK they were and what they were from. i found tfc and immediately downloaded it on my phone

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i didn't get to reading it for a bit tho:/ abt a week later, i was brought to the emergency room bc i was planning to kill myself. id been diagnosed with depression for around a year, who knows how long i was suffering before that, and i was hitting my lowest. it was abt 2 weeks after new years and on new years eve, i was planning on ending it bc i couldn't fathom dealing with it for another year. another year of feeling nothing or everything all at once. but my mom had called me downstairs to go to a new years party, so i didn't go through with it. abt 2 weeks later, i had seen my therapist again, and i was deflecting hard core, and she saw it, and she sent me to the ER. i was evaluated all night, but i wasn't kept for observation since i told the nurse that the thoughts had passed. i was taken out of school and put in an outpatient program where id have group for 4 hours and school for 2. every morning for abt a month, i would get picked up at my house in a minivan and id have a good 20-25+ min drive to program.

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every. single. morning. on the van, i would read tfc. every morning. i was going through, what i thought to be the worst time of my life (i now know that it in fact DID get worse and now we're going on a new level of bad, but then it was the worst id experienced) every morning i was reading about neil and him running from his father, something ive wanted to do for years. reading about andrew struggling with depression and self harm like i am and despising most touches bc of people in his life that ruined it, similar to how someone ruined it for me and doesn't understand that "no" means "no". reading about nicky learning to love and accept himself for being gay, for being who he is like ive been trying to accept myself being a queer ace trans boy. reading about kevin trying to cope with his anxiety, even if it's in an unhealthy way, the same way i do. reading about renee growing up one way and wanting to become a better person, something that i want to do every day. reading abt matt overcoming his addiction and loving his friends with his whole heart. reading about dan standing up for herself and being proud of who she is. reading abt allison cutting away the people in her life who wanted to hold her back. reading about aaron and andrew work through their differences to try and salvage their relationship. reading about neil taking his life back and living it the way he wants, on his terms, like i so badly crave to do. reading about neil and andrew finding a respectful and loving relationship, one where all boundaries are respected, not crossed, where there is comfort in being together and a certain understanding on a level that others could never wrap their mind around. the kind of relationship that i have always, always, yearned for, where i feel safe and loved and respected.

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these books taught me not only to die for the ones i love or kill for them, but to live for them, and to me, that is a much more daunting and difficult task.

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All For the Game gave me hope, something i never thought id have again. it gave me hope for tomorrow. and the day after that. and a month after that. and it gives me hope that one day, i will get away from my father, i will be comfortable with who i am and love myself for it, i will find ways to cope with my anxiety properly, i will be proud of the person i have become, i will have friends who i love and who love me, i will stand up for myself and be proud to be the person ive become, i will surround myself with good people and cut away those who treat me wrong and hold me back, i will work to repair and maintain good relationships.

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it gives me hope that i will finally break away from the pain and start to live my life the way i want, as the person i was meant to be, the way i was meant to live my life.

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it gives me hope that i will overcome my depression, that i will find the strength to stop harming myself to cope, that i will find the strength to push through, even after ive been given every reason to just give up.

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it gives me hope that one day, i will find a person who will love me for who i am, love me despite my past and the scars i carry, love me in a way that i'll never be able to explain or understand. that i will find someone who respects my boundaries, who asks "yes or no?" before touching me, who respects if i say "no" and still fucking loves me regardless. someone who can feel like they can be completely themself around me, and that i can feel the same around them. someone who will fall in love with me a little more every day. someone who i'll fall in love with a little more every day.

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it gives me hope that one day, hopefully someday soon—but i think im willing to wait—i will be happy.

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All For the Game quite literally changed to course of my life, and i can say with confidence that without it, i would not be here right now.

·

people say that books and shows and movies change there life all the time, but i know that i wouldn't be here without it. these books saved my fucking life. i wouldn't have experienced those mornings, walking into program with a goofy smile on my face, practically vibrating with what i now know was joy, blabbing to every person i ran into that morning abt a boy with scars and a sharp tongue on the run and the small, depressed and angry blond who told him to stay. or nights when i sobbed and sobbed for those boys who deserved better. and i wouldn't have gotten black armbands to cover my scars and match with my two biggest inspirations. or when i have a bad impulsive thought, i wouldnt have a voice in the back of my head going "what would andrew say? what would neil say?" and the vivid image of the small blond giving me a stare, face carefully blank, yet eyes swimming with a mix between disapproval and hope, and the boy covered in scars tentatively giving me a hug, a bit awkward at first, but he's a lovely hugger and eventually, awkwardness turns into comfort. without it, i don't think id know what pure, honest love is supposed to look like.

·

sorry, i suppose this got quite a bit off track from what got me into aftg, but once i started writing, i couldn't stop.

·

TLDR; i saw fanart on pinterest, DONT REPOST ART WITHOUT PERMISSION, and my life was saved and changed for the better by a book that i stumbled upon, purely by chance.

·

i don't believe in fate, but i do think that i found these books for a reason, and that my life changed because of it. i suppose you could call it the butterfly effect.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #237

just a warning beforehand this survey has some probably tmi stuff.

Which is better: good 'ole southern food or sea food? Despite coming from and still living in, I legitimately enjoy almost NO southern food. Absolute garbage. I don't enjoy much sea food either though, save for shrimp, so I guess that. Have you ever had a very strong spiritual experience? I dunno. What do you think you want to major in at college? I'm an Art & Design major right now. Minor in? English is my minor currently. What song do you have on repeat lately? Quite a lot, actually. What’s something important you could be doing now? I could be working on finishing the draft to my Writing paper and this week's Art History chapter, but... yeah. I procrastinate all to hell, but I "justify" it with me having SO much extra time in the library while Mom takes her classes that I have a great deal of time to just do everything in there. How do you feel about Circuit City going out of business? I have zero clue what that is. About how often do you go on cleaning sprees? LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL what're those? What’s the best story you’ve gone over in an English class? The Outsiders. Is your house haunted? Don't think so. What kind of tissues do you prefer? At least thicker as a single sheet of wet paper and soft. But ultimately it's nota a big deal. What face wash do you use? I prefer the Biore charcoal scrub, but I've been out of that for like... ever, and it's pricey, so we haven't bought any more. So now I use this peach scrub stuff Mom gets. I don't like it much because it's kinda abrasive, so probably bad for my skin, but it at least makes it feel cleaner. Do you reject Satan? I don't even know if a head demonic entity exists. Got no opinion on him. Are you violent? Far from it. Do you use google search or yahoo? Google. Was your step mother terrible? Her political views are fucking trash, but she herself is a wonderful person. Do you know anyone who doesn’t care about anything but themselves? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Are you single? If no who are you dating and for how long? I'm single for now. I don't believe prayer or "good vibes" have any power, but nevertheless, I almost DO pray Sara and I will come back together once she figures herself out and one of us is brave enough to move. Do you enjoy going for walks? Nowadays, no, but only because I'm still recovering from muscle atrophy in my legs, so it hurts quiiite a bit. But in a way, yes, I do enjoy walking as I know it's good for my legs, but it's still painful - but improving immensely. Before it started to get real bad, I fucking loved going on walks down the path by Sara's. When it wasn't cOLD AND WINDY AS A MOTHERFUCKER What are your favorite accessories? Do piercings count? If yes, totally those. And spiked chokers are fucking hot. I'll wear mine again someday, just fkn watch me. Do you wear makeup on a regular basics? Not at all. I am asking for *genuinely* black eye shadow and also quality black lipstick for Christmas, though, for when I do wear makeup. Ours suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. When was the last time you really established your favorite TV show? Oh, idk. It's been years. Write one lyric that really explains the way your life is going as of now? HAHA I'm actually listening to NSP's "Danny Don't You Know" right now and if "you're just going through an awkward phase from 12 to 29" aIN'T ME- Do you ever have any fantasies that involve certain celebrities? Who? Yes. Take an. idk. Wild guess. You can read like one or two of my surveys and already be absolutely sure lmao What is your favorite brand of shoe? Where can you buy these shoes? Converse, and... multiple places?? Does anyone ever judge you for something you naturally cannot help? Oh, I'm sure. Do you support homosexuality in general? Why do you or why don't you? Of fucking course I do. It's natural, and especially after realizing I was bi and experiencing a genuinely loving female-female relationship, I've only grown more ferocious in standing for gay rights. Fuckin try to tell me I can't love her without some sky demon firing me into Hell for it. I'll bring sunscreen. If you had your own personal dance crew, what would you name it and why? I dunno??? Has anyone ever called you an exact replica of one of your parents? Agree? No. Have you ever claimed to be in love when you knew you really weren’t? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I don't joke around with that shit. If you had the chance to meet an annoying celebrity, would you still do it? No?????? Why would I want that??????????? Do you ever lie in the grass during summer or are you afraid of ticks? 1.) That sounds boring and too hot and 2.) I'm fucking terrified of all parasites, so ticks are zero exception. Does it bother you when you see slutty girls getting all the cute guys? *chaotic eye twitching* In winter, would you rather wear jacket or hoodies? Why is this? HOODIES! Mega cozy. Would you consider yourself a good singer or are you tone deaf? Depends on the song, but generally, I don't think I'm real good. My voice isn't stable. Do you think regrets are better left unspoken or should they be out loud? Y'know, a real good question for once. I think maybe... it depends, I guess? Some things are just better unsaid, sometimes vice-versa. I suppose it depends on who you're telling, too. What color is your remote? Does it have any special/interesting features? Uh I know it's black, but that's it. I never use the TV. Name a time when you cried the most: The night of the breakup when Mom drove out to get me (I was walking to his house to talk bc she wouldn't take me), and she had to physically hold me down when we got in the house because I dashed and she knew I was about to do something stupid. I just fucking collapsed. That night is so blurry, but I'll never forget the crying. Fucking NOBODY deserves to go through that goddamn night. What color is your keyboard? It's black, though the keys are rimmed with red light. Have you ever thought about suicide? Too many times. Please please please please seek help if you have even a moment's consideration about it. How do you feel about Obama? I don't know much about him politically, but he was funny as fuck, I do know that. Seems like a chill dude. What was the last lie you told? I dunno, something little. Name 3 things in your purse (or wallet): My Harley Quinn wallet, hand sanitizer, aaaaand my keys. What time does your favorite TV show come on? *shrug* Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? I haven't been to many seriously "scary" places, honestly... so idk, really. Do you like string cheese? NO. What color was the coolest insect you’ve seen? No clue. Probably some butterfly or moth. Do you own any pink clothing? ... How do I not know this. How do you usually style your hair? It's directed to the right with no part through it and swoops over/close to my right eye. Do you use anything to whiten your teeth? I'm also asking for whitening strips for Christmas. .-. Ah, how gift desires change as you grow. I took awful care of my teeth during the worst of my depression, so yeah, I need them. I'm honestly stunned they're in a decent condition now. Have you ever collaborated with anyone on a project (not for school)? Hmm, don't believe so. What is (going to be) your career? I refuse to drop my career aspiration of a photographer. Not giving up on that no matter what. What is the difference between an alligator and a crocodile? Crocodiles' teeth protrude both upwards and downwards over their lips while alligators' only show downwards; crocs have a more tapering snout, alligators' are more rounded; and crocs are generally bigger. I didn't obsessively watch Animal Planet for nothing, y'all. :^) Were you breastfed as a baby? Yeah. That woman had five goddamn kids with no epidural or anything. She ain't afraid of no pain, and she's also like, MEGA into child health, safety, etc., and while formula-feeding is completely fine and valid, it's factual breast milk is a lot healthier for babies. What does your favorite shirt look like? Man, that's hard to pick. My most comfortable and well-fitting one is a Metallica "King Nothing"-inspired design, which is black and just has some gnarly skull designs 'n shit on it. HA HA WAIT, found it! This is it. Just a few days ago though, my mom's coworker went to the NSP 10th anniversary show in Chicago AND SHE GOT ME A FUCKING SHIRT BC SHE KNOWS I LOVE THEM AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH I SQUEALED SO LOUD AND SMILED MY FACE IN HALF. What is the cutest breed of puppy in your opinion? Do not EVEN with this, omfg I couldn't even try. What is the cutest baby animal in general? Have you, like, SEEN baby meerkats????????????? They're not the cutest for the first, like, two weeks (BUT still cute!!), but once they're outside the burrow? Jesus fuckin CHRIST they are the cutest creatures known to the galaxy and beyond. If we're talkin' like, cutest from birth, maybe cats. I adore kittens. Do you have some sort of odd fascination with anything? Perhaps my "strangest" is what's referred to as "vulture culture," which is essentially using naturally-deceased (usually wild) animals for art, such as those popular crystal-covered skulls, necklaces, creative use of wet specimens, stuff like that. I find some odd beauty and respect in creating art of the dead - it's like... making death beautiful and honoring the creature by immortalizing it in an art form. I personally photograph roadkill (that shit's confused the fuck outta drivers lmao) with the goal of forcing the brutality of it onto viewers and just make you think "okay yeah I need to drive more carefully." I don't know if that technically qualifies as vulture culture as I don't really... use the corpses, but nevertheless, I really enjoy doing it. I do kinda question the morality of it, like you can't ask an animal "hey do you wanna be art when ur dead?", so you're left to decide for it, but I think I lean ever so slightly more towards it being respectful, showing the beauty of its life. I WANT TO SAY HOWEVER, I DO FUCKING NOT support hunting trophies. I even question taxidermy outside of being from hunting considering you're not really making art, something new, some sort of message, out of it. There's no creative purpose other than to show "hey look at this dead animal!!", and besides that, it kinda creeps me out. Wow sorry for the ramble, I'm just into this stuff. Who was the last person to text you? Sara. What did they say? Paraphrased, that life has been a serious cunt to her lately. Which is true. have you ever broken someones heart? He fuckin acted like it after two goddamn weeks. I suppose maybe Jason, though I can't really tell you that since he fucked off after the breakup, so it's not like I was around him. I'll admit his health and general demeanor was withering as time led up to it (I knew something was wrong, he'd just never tell me), so he was obviously suffering. I feel awful for that shit, seeing I was apparently that goddamn stress-inducing. Had yours broken? LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO I think the whole Internet knows, oops. Do you consider past relationships a waste of time? No. Well, maybe just one. I kinda wanna say Tyler was, but then again, as I was healing, it showed exactly what I would not tolerate. So I guess it had a silver lining. Do you think you’ll be around to see the world end? I wanna say no, but I wouldn't be surprised. It's gonna be climate change (reason #1 for me), the super volcano finally blowing, or nuclear war. Scientifically, we are far, far, far from overdue for another mass extinction anyway. Do you believe in second chances? Yeah, sometimes. Depends. Do you swear? Way more than needed. Swearing a lot just became part of my normal vernacular through exposure to Jason and his family lmao. I was just about always there, and whew does his mom swear like a sailor. Italian New Yorker to the core. To me, "swear words" are just normal vocabulary. What is the nearest photo to you of? A family of meerkats on my wall. Are you good at being quiet? Sure? Who has your heart? I'm guessing you mean romantically? Two people are tearing at it, then. One that's fuckin stupid and needs to stop. Do you like it that way? No. No. Sara is, realistically, the best match for me and a very healthy partner for me. But now that for whatever goddamn reason Jason sneaked back into the picture (metaphorically; he hasn't reached out or anything), hints of obsession/addiction are coming back. I know it's fucking creepy, but I was legitimately obsessed with him. I sent him a perfectly polite and genuine email of ME apologizing to HIM, and I guess that just shot my feelings back up. God, typing this makes me realize to a fuller degree that this is an awful idea. Where is this person? Sara's probably at home; hell if I know where the other is. When was the last time you saw them? I saw Sara this past February. Jason, not since February of '17. Do you prefer desktops or laptops? Laptops because of portability. Sunrise, or sunset? I think maybe sunrise, considering the colors tend to be more pastel. But both are gorgeous. What kind of mood are you in? A confused as hell one. The Jason thing is driving me insane, and TMI WARNING I've been dealing with a fucking ginormous libido that I'm guessing sprouts from my new birth control, and it led me to doing to thing I said I'd never ever do because I only want to share that experience with my partner. Y'know, the "m" word. Saying it feels too weird and dirty. That's the problem: it's so instilled in my head that masturbation is lustful and just "wrong" that my brain is still trying to process that it's okay and natural and, as I found, relieving. I had to look it up and everything to convince my shameful ass I wasn't being "dirty." Hey, on that note: Planned Parenthood offers way goddamn more than abortion, friends. I swear it's beyond wild what I used to believe. But yeah ANYWAY, I'm just feeling weird and still kinda "tail between my legs" today. Do you like fans that blow directly on you or oscillate? Depends on how hot I am. What is one thing you worry about most in long-term goals? "not having enough money to get there.." <<<< YUP this. Right before you fall asleep, what is your usual position? It's hard to tell considering you're falling into unconsciousness... but I THINK on my left side, hugging an edge of the blanket to me. When you have sex, do you keep your eyes closed or open when finishing? I wouldn't know; I've only ever been on the brim before freaking out and we stopped because I was literally scared of how overwhelming the feeling was. That and my family was home and I was having trouble staying quiet lmao. When you have mail do you open the biggest one first, or doesn’t matter? Uhhhh. I honestly don't get mail enough to answer this. I'd probably go for the smallest? When you wake up what is the first thing you usually look for? My phone. Think of the last habit/addiction you quit. What replaced it? Hm. I really don't know. Your phone rings but you don’t know the number, would you answer it? No sir-ree. Do you always take a shower after you have sex? I didn't always back then. Do you let your girl/boyfriend drive, or do you prefer to? 1.) I don't drive and 2.) I'm single. The last time you had sex was it in the morning, afternoon or night? Hell if I remember.

[agustdef]

Here & Now - Chapter 11

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,885

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn​

The moment the clicking sound started up again I slapped my hand against my table, gaining everyone's attention. My eyes narrowed on Lexi, the reason for my sudden annoyance.

"Click it again, Lexi. Do it," I challenged.

Lexi dropped the pen the moment the words left my mouth. Her eyes went wide as she stared back at me, the rest of her body frozen. When she finally glanced around the others were also glaring at her, all of us tired of her incessant noise making. She took a chunk of her curly do and used it to cover her face, probably out of embarrassment.

Why she was clicking a pen, no one knew. She wasn't even using it, all her edits were being done via her laptop.

"And I think that means it's time for a break," Alex said, breaking the silence.

Everyone finished what they were working on and then there was a series of cracking bones. It sounded horrid, but it felt so good.

My brain felt like mush as I took a moment away from the chapter I was writing, but I knew it wouldn't last for long. It had just been some time since I'd been able to sit in an environment where everyone was working and I felt like trash if I wasn't productive like them. That was the purpose of our monthly meet-ups. Be around people we like and get work done. Any work. Though most were writing and revising things.

"Can I just burn the whole draft and hope that from its ashes a better one will emerge?" Max asked.

Goodness, how I wished that writing worked like that.

"If you manage to figure out which kind of magic allows for that please share with the group," said Spencer, whose voice was muffled by his hands.

Alex, who'd disappeared after announcing break, returned with everyone's chosen beverage. When she sat down my hot chocolate I almost downed half the drink before I felt the burn. I needed the placebo effect it had on me and my energy levels.

"Or you could write it and stop switching to that secret tab for that convention you keep saying you're not going to," Alex said.

Max gasped, hand against their chest in a dramatic fashion. It got a laugh out of everyone. We knew they'd been doing that for weeks now, claiming that they couldn't spend any more money and it was a waste. Yet, if you ever glanced at their screen the webpage would be right there, the mouse hovering over the buy tickets button.

"At least I wasn't switching between my draft and six other tabs, like someone I know." Max's gaze fell on me.

I scoffed, waving them off. "I was working thank you very much. I had some writing stuff to do and then some work stuff came to mind. I am allowed to multi-task."

"You had two docs of writing open and one weird looking program open, which I assume was for music. So, what was the second doc for, Kennie? Do share?" Max leaned in closer as they spoke, trying to peek at my screen.

Using my hand I pushed their face away and then darkened my screen so they couldn't see. "Nothing for any of you to know about. When it's time you'll know. I don't need y'all hyping me up and then I end up getting hyper-focused on it. I'm enjoying the carefree nature of writing it without pressure."

"And you don't want Ara to find out," Lexi added.

"And I don't want Ara to find out. So silence all of you." Even though I spoke to the group my gaze fell on Alex.

Her brow raised as she stared me down. "Why? What did I do?"

"You ratted on me last time when she asked you, don't think I forgot."

Like a fish her mouth opened and closed, her face screwing up as she became flustered by my words. I could even see a hint of red peeking underneath her brown skin.

"I... What? Do you expect me to lie to our precious agent? I could never lie to Ara. She's too precious. I refuse this. This is slander," she managed to choke out.

My eyes narrowed on her, though she no longer met them. She was avoiding them and every time she did look into them she quickly looked away.

Leaning in close I made sure she was looking directly at my face. "You sold me out for food."

Again she didn't seem to know what to say, but then she just shrugged. Dropping all attempts to make herself seem pure.

Lexi, Max, and Spencer just watched us and laughed. And then we all just sat in silence for a while, no one interacting unless to show someone a thing on their phone or to ask a random question that just popped into their head.

It was nice.

"I start work again tomorrow," Spencer huffed.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Lexi suddenly sit up. "Didn't your vacation just start?"

He shook his head. "It's already been a week, they go by so quickly. I feel like I just started to relax."

"The one time I got to take a two-week vacation was glorious. I miss working at that company," Max said, joining in on the vacation sadness.

"What are vacations?" Alex asked.

"Seconded," I said.

Without having to look up I knew they were all staring me down.

Max smacked their lips. "Um, ma'am you take them frequently. What do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my head towards the group. "Ma'am, I haven't had one in months. A few off days do not count."

They were silent and then Max gasped, looking at me with wide eyes. "Wait. Was your birthday the last vacation you had?"

Nodding my head I sat back and released a deep sigh. I didn't mind my constant working, because I had a flexible schedule and off days, but when I sat and thought about it a vacation would have been awesome.

"You need to get it together," Spencer said, while the others hummed in agreement.

Before we could go any further though my phone rang and though the immediate urge was to silence it, the ringer belonged to Marcus. So, sighing I picked it up and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Sorry, Ken, I know now is supposed to be your creative outlet time or whatever it is you called that thing," Marcus rushed out.

"It's fine. We're on a break. What's up?"

"I know we aren't meeting for another round of offer eliminations for a few days, but I wanted to let you know that I got another revised contract for Def Jam, though they haven't made many changes." He didn't sound too enthused about it.

"Okay, just email it to me and I look over it again. I feel like I know what they gave in on and what they're going to ignore."

He sighed. "You're probably thinking the right things."

A small laugh escaped me. I'd shed some of my stress over the decision and found amusement in the way some of the labels were handling my acquirement. Most had no problem giving into my major concerns, but some of them just refused to budge; which made things easier.

"Was that it?" I asked just as my laptop notified me he'd sent it.

"Yeah. Wait, no. Did you finish going over the BigHit contract? I know it was a shock, but I'd prefer we get back to them sooner rather than later. I know I said we have time, but not that much time. It would be best to get it to them quickly so they can give it back."

For a second I froze. I'd had the contract for well over a week and for the last few days had been avoiding it. I couldn't explain why, but I chalked it up to the fear of change and left it at that.

"I..." I paused, chewing on my lip. "I, um finished it two days ago."

"Really?" Marcus asked, sounding shocked.

"Yeah."

There was a brief moment of silence and then I could hear him release a deep exhale. The man knew how to read me. "What's wrong with it?"

I glanced around the coffee shop, avoiding the eyes of my friends who were engaged in their own conversations. Looking at one of them always made me want to spill my guts out and I needn't do that.

But life didn't work how we wanted and Alex raised her brow at me as she stared into my soul and I broke.

I pushed back a stray strand of hair from an attempt at a braided crown and sighed.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with it. Well, okay. There are things wrong with it, but they're small things. Most of it is great and some of it beyond what I would ask in respects to my pay and control over projects outside of the company. Like too good. Like someone has been relaying some of my issues with the other offers to their legal team, and I've only complained to you, Hals, Yoongi with Joon in the room and my mother. And I wouldn't put it past 3 of those people. Or they're magic," I rambled.

"Or, perhaps - going to pitch a wild idea here so be ready - they see your worth and would appreciate working with you," Marcus reasoned.

I knew I was being a tad outlandish with that second claim, but my mind sometimes worked in weird things. Especially things that felt too good to be true and the offer was peak too good to be true.

"Send me the revisions and I'll look them over. And if you want we can go over it together before I send it in. You know I want you to make the best choices for you and if talking it through is necessary we can. I don't want you overthinking and regretting choices later."

Marcus was annoying as hell, but a freaking angel. He knew me well enough to know that sometimes I needed to be coddled. But he also knew when I needed a kick in the ass and how to do it while keeping things professional. Honestly, his professional agent side differed greatly from his personal life chaoticness.

Taking a deep breath I nodded. "Uh, do you have time tomorrow? I should be less weird then and we can do the usual quick run-through before you send it off."

"Yeah. Just email me the attachment and give me time before 2:00 pm for us to meet."

"Okay. Thank you, Marcus. I'll get that right over to you."

"Later," he said and hung up.

Without wasting time I pulled it together, got the email ready, checked my calendar and told him an 11:00 am meeting would work before sending it off.

I went to put down my phone and rejoin the group talking, but then it vibrated. The lock screen showed it was a message from Yoongi in the group chat with Joon.

Why are there pictures of my hands in here? Is this normal? Do you two have this fetish too?

I laughed so hard I snorted.

[jbuffyangel]

Weekly Rundown 10/14/18-10/20/18

Time to rundown what I’m watching, loving, hating and everything in between! Spoilers ahead!

Arrow (“Inmate 4587″)

William running through the woods, even if it is a dream, makes me so emo.

I love how Arrow fake kills Felicity because they'd rather walk into hell than do it for real.

Felicity and William's photo sits on top of his copy of “Count of Monte Cristo” because they are Oliver's way out.

Stan stans Oliver. Same dude.

If we get this much Oliver working out then I will survive the prison storyline.

Mystery GA is like old school Oliver without Oliver having to be old school. Nifty.

Oliver's voiced cracks just a little bit when he asked Diggle about William and Felicity. It hurts to even say their names.

Felicity is the most adorable pink haired barista to ever live

"Boxing is not gonna win you a fight in the Glades." Oh yeah? Tell that to LL. Oh wait. She's dead. Never mind. Kid is right.

DO NOT TOUCH THE WIFEY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES OR DIE.

I don't remember all these villains. Smeh.

Who dat in da boat?

Listen dude you need to see a picture of her husband and then you'd know better than to even ask.

LL hit the streets as BC after a couple boxing lessons. BS hits a couple law books and is DA. You're right LL fandom. Totally same character.

Curtis has a job with ARGUS and please for all that is holy let him stay there.

Is anyone else unnerved watching all these characters fight crime legally?

He's looking for Robert Queen? Long lost son? Grave robber? Weirdo?

So now Rene wants to go to prison? Why didn't you just do that in the first place? Then Oliver wouldn't have to save your ass & leave everyone he loves behind.

Grown up William? Flash forward Roy? I AM SPIRALING Y'ALL

Just when we thought there was nothing better than Oliver fighting naked in a shower they gave us Felicity kicking Diaz's ass.

Oh god y'all that scene was incredible. Don't ever say to me Oliver and Felicity are not the foundation of Arrow.

"I will always wait for you." Later. I have to eat my feelings.

Felicity gives William the hozen. I AM NOT OKAY.

GROWN UP WILLIAM WITH ROY!!!!! WE ARE FLASH FORWARDING PEOPLE!  

Okay they went no where near as dark with Oliver as I thought they would. Also, I should maybe look into a therapist because my dark & twisty is a lot darker and twistier than Arrow.

I am here for aged up Felicity. I am living for it.

Manifest “Unclaimed Baggage”

OMG we found out what Ben does for a living. The greatest mystery of Manifest is solved. HE IS A MATH PROFESSOR.

I want Ben to figure out to pay off my mortgage and keep $500K.

We finally meet Danny. Danny is the hot nurse from Grey’s Anatomy, the hot firefighter from Rescue Me and the hot FBI agent from Graceland. I love me some Daniel Sunjata. I prefer blondes so I’d still go with Dreamy McBlue eyes (Josh Dallas) but I understand Grace’s predicament more now. The struggle is real.

Michaela blew an operation with her Spidey sense and Jared took the blame, but it gave us this SWOONY exchange:

Michaela: You don’t have to protect me.

Jared: Yes I do. I can’t help it.

I still don’t really care about the plane mystery. The relationships are much more interesting.

The Gifted (”Outmatched”)

I was very bored this week. The best conflict is Lauren and Andy, but it was an anti climatic ending. 

This Is Us (”Vietnam”)

He got the "Breathe" from the army buddy. I'm ten minutes in and This Is Us has left me emotionally eviscerated. So your standard Tuesday night.

We are rehashing a lot of information I already know.

My father was drafted at the same time as Nicky. He was #5 in the draft. My dad was #8

Blindspot (”My Art Project”)

"I'm the work wife." LOL!!! Rich Dotcom is often the best of Blindspot episodes.

Reade is freaking out. SHE IS ALIVE READE DON'T BELIEVE IT!

I want to go to lunch with Rich Dotcom and talk Met Gala couture.

"You've done something with your hair. Your whole vibe is edgier." Boston is the only one who knows long hair = evil Jane.

Can no one see when Remi makes her cranky evil face after being nice to Kurt? It's her face! HOW DO THEY NOT SEE IT?

Wait. How is the puzzle a vetting process if other people don't have access to the tattoo? This makes no sense.

Madeline is sufficiently creepy.

Awww Rich is jealous. He's used to being Team Blindspot's favorite criminal. No one can take your place Rich Dotcom. You are one in a million.

Uh oh. Kurt saw that picture taking Remi.

Zapata is an accessory to murder. That ain't good.

That was too much Remi, Remi. Reel it back girl.

Remi drugged Patterson. This removes any doubt. She is evil.

Jane is a super ninja. She can't get out of being held hostage? She's done it millions of times before and yet nobody on Team Blindspot questions her helplessness?

Anyone else confused on this case? I hate it when I'm confused on case of the week.

Making a Murderer Part 2

I’m trying to hang in there on, but jeez this forensic science stuff is complex.

Brendan Dassey’s case is bounced between courts like a soccer ball. This is insane.

Oh holy hell I don’t know who did it. I give up.

That’s all for this week! I started my Daredevil binge so I have a bunch of shows to catch up on!

[the-corset-witch]

Do y'all recall when I shared a post about the neat site, OpenLibrary.org ? I was reading Llewelyn's Magical Almanac 2013, and still am. Well tonight I decided to make a recipe from it, moon goddess bread. For me it's just moon bread, and I did leave some outside (where my dogs couldn’t find it) as offering for the moon once my bread was done & the moon was up in my part of the world. The dough actually rose with the moon so I found that really good and coincidental timing.

While I put together the ingredients I kept thinking affirmations like "I will change my life for the better" and "I am a driving force in my life". I kneaded some gentle affirmations again into the dough. This was my first time baking with yeast and baking actual bread from scratch, and it came out rather well! 

Over all, I wanted this bread to help work with the eclipse, to help me further my own cycle thus end the one I’ve been in, then find a new set of dreams and move on. A lot of my thoughts (that were conscious) while baking had to do with that (if not the recipe of course). I definitely incorporate kitchen witchcraft into my craft as best as I know how currently, it’s definitely a work in progress.  I had no rosemary this time around and seasoned with pink Himalayan salt, basil, and parsley. The warm bread went beautifully with a bit of melted butter. I used the salt for cleansing, purifying, and when I salted my dough while making it and then mixing it in, which I did mostly by hand, I sang a tiny “Cleansing cleansing cleansing” song (those are the words, I’m creative). I used basil for prosperity in moving forward in my life, and uh, honestly I just thought parsley would fit a bit. 

Moon Bread

1 & ½ cups warm water 

2 & ¼ teaspoons active yeast 

1 teaspoon sugar 

3 & ¼ cups all purpose unbleached flour + extra for dusting 

Coarse salt, dried rosemary, thyme, oregano, & marjoram (topping) 

Olive oil 

Halved

3/4 cups warm water 

1 & 1/8 teaspoons active yeast 

 1/2 teaspoon sugar 

 1 & 2/3 cups all purpose unbleached flour 

Mix ¼ cup water with yeast & sugar. Let stand until yeast bubbles. Add remaining warm water. Mix in flour and salt well. Dough is sticky. Place in oiled bowl, cover with damp dish towel. Let rise 2 hours in warm, draft free place. After it rises place on breadboard or lightly flour dusted table. Divide in half. Work flour into hands and knead til dough is shaped into round moon-like shape. Place dough on lightly oiled cookie sheet and sprinkle with coarse salt & dried herbs. Allow it to rest 40 minutes. Preheat oven 450F. Best results fill roasting pan halfway with water and place on bottom rack. Bake on upper rack for 40 minutes or until golden brown. Should sound hollow when tapped. Leave a piece outside in honor of the moon. 

RECIPE CREDIT

Sybil Fogg - Llewelyn Magical Almanac ‘13

Personal Notes

Next time I wanna use full moon water, since this is the first moon I’m making it.  Yea, bit late on the uptake for that.  Also, I want some damn rosemary, what do I have to do to get some in this house?  Maybe use the halved recipe next time and make into smaller moons, cutting this was a bit of a bitch.  Also, definitely find a place I can put offerings to the moon, maybe use a squirrel feeder.  That’s pretty much the same thing, right?  Yea totally.  I also need to get some unbleached flour, but for now I’ll work with what I’ve got on hand.  It just is what it is sometimes.