#g. getting this nonsense out here so that i can act normally in front of others pls stand by

[deus-ex-mona]

thinking about meoto l i k e

[oyasuminto]

mayhaps m!kylar with a bully!fem!pc where our soft yandere boy finally snaps and drags the pc in the school closet nd,, breeds her? and as much as she hates to admit it she got addicted to his cock and keeps dragging him in the same closet for a quickie? 🥵👉👈

It’s just too easy to pick on that creep. He’s so tiny that she can lift him clear off the ground and slam him into lockers, he flinches at every sudden movement, and he’s such a fucking crybaby.

Some may call her cruel, a bully, and they certainly wouldn’t be wrong, but it’s not like Kylar doesn’t deserve it, especially after a pair of her underwear disappeared from her gym locker. She may not have solid proof that it was him, but who else would be creepy enough to steal a girl’s panties!?

The way he reacts when she teases him in other ways just cements it; he shudders if she gets a little too close while threatening him, just a brief flash of her panties leaves him awkwardly tugging his hoodie down.

God, he’s a loser.

Is she playing with fire? Perhaps, she’s heard stories about that little freak pulling knives, but he’s way too much of a coward to actually do anything.

Right?

She doesn’t even notice the storage closet opening, nor the small hand reaching out, until she’s grabbed and pulled with enough force to send her to the floor.

The freak is grinning as he pins her wrists in place and secures them with a zip tie. She could probably break through the cheap plastic with ease, but a slowly approaching headache and the glimpse of a knife make her reconsider.

He’s just trying to scare her. That’s it. He’ll wave that shitty little pocket knife around, act all big, and then run away all terrified.

Just like he always does.

She tenses when the metal blade is held just inches away from her throat.

“Y-You’re so mean to m-me,” he mutters, “but i-it’s okay, I can f-fix that...”

There’s a loud rip sound, followed by a sudden coldness on her pussy.

The remains of her panties are tossed into the corner of the closet, and it’s only then that the bully really notices the lack of light in Kylar’s wide eyes.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

She begins trembling and squeezes her thighs together, only for Kylar to pry them back apart and kneel between her legs, preventing her from trying again.

Kylar shushes her, two slender fingers forcing their way past her lips and pressing down on her tongue. “I n-need to teach you a le-lesson.”

He places his knife on the floor, blade still pointing towards her, and traces his now-free hand down her shaking body, over her breasts, stomach, and thighs, before finally dipping between and brushing against her pussy.

“You’re n-not a virgin, are you?” Kylar doesn’t wait for an answer before roughly thrusting a finger inside. “I’ve h-heard stories, seen t-things.”

She sniffles, trying to fight back tears. She can’t cry in front of the creep, can’t show him weakness. Maybe he’ll leave her alone if he realizes she won’t break.

“Still t-tight...” He’s talking to himself more-so than her, entirely enthralled in her pussy.

Christ, what a fucking virgin.

He withdraws his finger and licks it clean with a quiet moan. “...So sweet...”

With a lopsided grin, Kylar shoves his shorts down his thighs and pulls out his hardened cock, precum already leaking from the tip.

It’s bigger than she thought it would be.

The head of his cock rests against her pussy, threatening to penetrate.

He leans over her, forcing her knees against her chest and leaving her muscles burning. “Y-You’ll look beautiful f-full of my children.”

With that, he thrusts forwards, burying his entire cock inside of her.

Kylar’s movements are erratic, hips snapping against her ass as he watches every little change in her expression.

She hisses out something about it hurting, but the fingers in her mouth turn her words into nonsense gibberish. She doubts Kylar would care even if he could hear. The freak’s too far gone at this point.

His knife is still within his reach, one wrong move and the blade could end up buried in her chest. She wouldn’t put it past him, not when she’s realizing that the stories about him threatening people for the smallest things are all true.

Instead, she squeezes her eyes shut and pretends to be literally anywhere else. Pretends that Kylar isn’t whining and rutting against her.

But she can’t.

Every desperate thrust brings her crashing back down to Earth and slaps her with the reality that she’s trapped in a storage closet with some psychopath, one who seems intent on fucking his way into her womb, like some shitty hentai made for horny virgins who’ve never even seen a real pussy.

Of course he’d read that crap.

Her snarky thoughts are the only thing keeping her from breaking down, the sole thing keeping her sane.

“Gah!”

By some miracle, Kylar’s cock strikes that one bundle of nerves that has her seeing stars.

“Th-That feel good? Make...make that f-face again.”

He angles himself in just the right way to hit her g-spot again and again and again.

She can feel her eyes roll back and her body go limp. The sudden rush of pleasure mixing with fear and pain is too much for her brain to handle.

And her mind goes blank.

When she comes to, it’s just in time for Kylar to pull her down on his cock, allowing him to cum deep inside her pussy.

He’s breathing heavily as he straightens up and pulls out. It seems like only then that he realizes what he did.

“I’m...I’m sorry! P-Please don’t t-tell anyone!”

Then she’s alone.

She doesn’t even bother to clean the cum out of her pussy or check her locker for a spare pair of panties, instead heading straight to the school roof, where all the other delinquents hang out. Several of them notice how disheveled she is; hair tangled, shirt partially untucked, wrists bruised, gait awkward, but none comment on it.

Whitney looks her up and down with a snicker. “What? Did you get shagged on the way here?”

“Something like that,” she replies, snagging a cigarette from Whitney’s packet.

Whitney lightly shoves her and mutters something about owing them a smoke. She just gives a noncommittal grunt.

The next few days are unsettlingly normal, and she fucking hates it. As much as it disgusts her to admit it, Kylar hasn’t left her mind, and it’s not in that I’m-gonna-beat-the-fucking-shit-out-of-you way that she thinks about most perverts. She’s addicted, to that fucking freak’s cock. One rough fuck in a storage closet was all it took, and now she wants more. Just one problem;

Kylar’s back to running away with his tail between his legs.

She ends up having to threaten a few people to get him in the right place at the right time.

The greasy creep is trembling when she slams him into a wall, obviously expecting some kind of violent vengeance.

Instead, his lips are captured in a bruising kiss.

“You’re comin’ with me, freak.” Kylar doesn’t get a chance to respond before he’s being pulled by the collar of his shirt.

Any students present in the hall move out of the way, assuming that the resident outcast is about to get his ass beaten again.

She grins when Kylar is thrown on the closet floor, much like she had been. He’s whimpering, tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

“Quit bitching,” she says, straddling the petite boy, “you’re gonna shut the fuck up and let me cum, got it?”

Kylar doesn’t resist when she pulls his cock out of his shorts, but his eyes do widen when she lifts her skirt to reveal a lack of panties.

“Not such a big fuckin’ man now, huh?” She spits into her hand and uses it to lubricate Kylar’s cock. “You’re some loser virgin! It’s not fuckin’ fair!”

Her head falls back as the loner’s cock finally slips inside of her. Kylar’s hips are already trying to hump upwards, but she holds them down.

“You’re my toy, that means I call the shots.”

Kylar ends up leaving the closet with a limp, a luminescent blush, and some very conflicted feelings.

It becomes a dirty little secret between the two of them. She makes it clear that Kylar’s body will never be found if he tells anyone, and there’s not a chance in hell that she’ll admit to becoming addicted to that fucking loser’s dick.

She has to keep up appearances, of course, so Kylar’s still being shoved around like always, but now there’s an added layer of sexual tension to everything she does, and Kylar knows that he’ll get to empty his balls in a warm, fertile pussy at some point that day.

It’s an odd dynamic, but it works.

[mysterytickingegos]

Ouija Board

Pairing: Ghost!Blank x Reader (Ambiguous)

Genre: Paranormal

Word Count: 1,512

Summary: Sequel to Blank’s Winter Ficlet. After months of Blank poking at your sanity out of boredom, you bring your friends home to get their help, and someone brings a Ouija board into the mix. The day ends with you being left with more questions than answers. (There will probably be another part to this later.)

Anonymous Request: 1. Blankgameplays 2. she/her 3. Platonic/ambiguous 4. Fluff (meet cute, like Blanky Boi is 'haunting' {would you call it haunting? is he even a ghost?} reader's house) Prompt: 63 - Reader: “I don’t believe in ghosts.” Blank: *about to ruin this mans whole career* Please and thank you with extra sprinkles on top ♥ ☆ﾟ.*♥･｡ﾟ♥

Authors Note: First off, to get it out of the way, I was originally using a gif from the tumblr search option, and I removed it when asked. Even though I’ve done so, I can’t remove the reply because they blocked me before I even saw the notification. The gif you should be seeing (if it matches the image description) is one I made myself. Now, onto the important stuff- Oh my god, it is about time I got this done! I’m so sorry it took this long for me to get to it! If it helps in any way I finished this fic with idea’s on continuing it later so...you’ll probably be getting more out of your request than most!

Want to Read More?

[Image Description: A gif of Ethan (Crankgameplays) edited to be spooky with multicolored layers. He leans towards the camera and speaks ominously.]

You’d started out with nerves of steel.

Ghosts weren’t real. You knew that.

It’s an old house, and you have an overactive imagination. That’s what you told yourself, over and over again, even once it stopped making sense. But there’s only so many times you can catch things moving on their own, or you could hear that distant voice, before you started to get a little tense. So when you finally hit your limit, you turned to your friends, bringing them to the house in the hopes that they could confirm what you’d been seeing. Or not.

“Okay, before we go in, here’s the plan. We don’t talk about it.” You started, keeping Vi and Eric on the stairs. “Because I think if it knows that I told you about it, it won’t do anything. Like, try to make me look crazy.”

“You do look a little crazy right now.” Violet quipped, nudging you further up the stairs. “Come on, we get it. Act normal, pay attention, let’s get ghost hunting.”

“Ugh, please don’t call it that.” You unlocked the front door, stepping in with your friends following right behind you.

You tossed your keys onto the counter, and the sudden noise was all it took to make Eric yelp. You and Violet both turned to look at him, seeing him cover his face with his hand. “Sorry...”

You sighed, already close to giving up on this plan. You were pretty sure the so-called ghost didn’t even have to do anything. Eric was so nervous and Violet was so excited about this whole thing that they’d probably make up their own ghost story by the time you finished painting the office.

But you trudged forward, bringing them upstairs and getting to work.

You dug your speaker out of the closet, putting some decent music on and leaving it in the corner of the room. Eric pried the paint can open and Violet started lining the room with painting tape. For the first time in a long time, you were all stuck in an uncomfortable silence. waiting for something to happen.

But the day went off without a hitch. It was late in the evening when you finished painting the walls and your friends got ready to leave. “You know, if this was your way of trying to get free labor out of us, fair play to you.” Vi joked, slinging her bag over her shoulders at the door. “But honestly, I’m kind of bummed.”

You shook your head. “I swear I wasn’t, guys. I’m sorry. God, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Eric came up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey it’s alright, you can- well I mean if you want you can stay with us for-”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a small thud and a clattering sound coming from the room right above you, the office. All three of you looked up at the ceiling, then at each other, before making a quick pace back upstairs. You flicked the light back on to see that the half-empty bucket of paint you’d left was now on it’s side, and the color of the floor now matched the walls.

“...Dude, this thing is an asshole.” Vi said bluntly, earning a quiet plea from Eric not to make it mad.

“I knew it! I told you! There’s no way this shit just happens, right?” Despite the fact your floor was ruined, you couldn’t help but get excited. “I mean it’s ridiculous but this happens all the time.”

“Okay, this is going to get even cooler, beeecause...” Vi grinned, pulling her bag back around and digging through it until she found what she was looking for, something wrapped in a beige cloth. “Guess what I brought.”

You watched her unwrap what turned out to be a planchette, which had been wrapped in what turned out to be a cloth Ouija board. Eric coughed nervously, taking a small step back towards the stairs, “I actually uh..I can’t stay, I sort of have a-a doctors appointment! Yeah, that. That’s what I have to get to.”

“It’s seven at night.”

“Yeah, um...it’s therapy. You know, they stay open late and...yeah.” And with that Eric excused himself from any further ‘ghost hunting,’ fleeing out the front door. Before you could also object to the idea of talking to the ghost, Vi grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the living room.

“Do you have any candles?” She asked, kneeling down on the floor and spreading out the Ouija board.

“I have a couple scented candles we could light, I guess...” You shrugged and went around collecting them. You started to say something more but stopped to rethink it. This was ridiculous. Lighting candles for a ouijia board? Acknowledging any of this ghost nonsense felt silly enough to you, just a couple months ago stuff like this was all a big joke to you. But what other explanation could there be for everything you had experienced? Maybe you should have done a bit more research, set up a camera or-

“Y/n?” Vi called out from the floor, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Swallowing your pride, you brought the candles and a matchbox over and kneeled across from her. “So since when are you interested in all this, anyway?”

“What, ghosts and stuff?” She stayed quiet for a moment as she helped you set the candles up on either side of the two of you. “I dunno, I guess I’m just starting to notice that maybe...things aren’t as they seem. Kind of like you. But I actually find it fun. So, are you ready to do this?”

You nodded. “I guess so...” Placing your fingers on the planchette, you took a deep breathe before you started. “Hello?”

“Hello? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Shush.”

“I’m just saying, maybe-” “It’s my house that’s haunted so-”

HELLO

You both fell silent again, glancing up at each other. She looked like she might explode from excitement and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Then, you kept going. “My name is Y/n, this is my friend Violet.”

I  K N O W

“What’s your name?”

The planchette began to move again, but this time rather than settle on any letters or even move towards ‘No,’ it moved to a blank patch of the cloth.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you waited for any movement, but it didn’t come. “Do you have a name?”

D O  N O T  R E M E M B E R

‘Oh.’ You felt a pang in your heart at that.

Vi pouted a little, her head tilting to the side. She was the next to ask something. “What are you?”

G H O S T

“Alright-”

M A Y B E

“...Maybe?”

D O  N O T  R E M E M B E R

Chills ran down your spine. That was not a comforting thought. “Is there anything else in the house with us?”

NO

“You’ve really been scaring my friend, you know.” Vi said, looking cautiously around the room as she spoke.

I  K N O W

It took everything you had to keep your shaking hands on the planchette. “Do you want me to leave?”

Nothing happened. You waited, your heart pounding out of your chest. The sun had officially set, making the house pitch black aside from your little pocket of candlelight. You could almost make out a shadow over the board, it’s source seemingly coming from behind you. You didn’t dare mention it. “Do you want to be alone here again? Because I’d understand that.”

Even more dead silence.

Violet let out a sharp sigh, taking one hand off the planchette, despite your objection, to rub her temple. “Are you still there?”

YES

“I just want to understand why you’re doing this.” You said, much quieter than you meant.

S O R R Y

“You’re sorry?”

S T A Y

“But...what?”

You and Violet sat there for another thirty minutes, asking questions and waiting for answers that never came. The spirit was apparently done talking. “Alright, well...” Violet stood up, putting her bag back on.

“What? Wait, I don’t get any of this. What do I do?” You began to panic, not entirely sure if you should be leaving the board yet.

“You can have the board, keep trying tomorrow, I don’t know. Look-” Her tone was coming off uncharacteristically harsh now, as she avoided your eyes. “My head is splitting, think it’s all the candle fumes. I’m gonna breeze off, good luck though.”

You squinted at the door when it hit you what she said. "Breeze off?” Shaking it off, you turned your attention back to your unusual roommate. “Okay, I’m going to call it a night I guess. I have paint to clean up so,” You moved the planchette to ‘Goodbye,’ taking your hands off and being seconds away from blowing out the candles when it moved all on it’s own.

G O O D N I G H T

[bourbon-ontherocks]

(Previously, on GG rewatch...)

*Sighs*. So now, after my favourite episode of the season, I guess that here comes the worst?

I’m going to go write fic after that to forget about this depressing nonsense...

Honestly this whole bar scene is peak Petty!Rio... The whole *chuckles* "oh hey, I've got to show you something!" *pulls out the bullets* is P E R F E C T.

Rio kissing the bullets and dramatically dropping them in front of Beth is literally a fanfiction. I have no other explanation

I feel bad for this unknown actor who plays the bartender and only has one line ("Sure thing") and nobody will ever pay attention to him because this scene is a fucking MOMENT.

"TO YOUR AIM"!!!!!!!!!!! Rio is a dramatic bitch and I'm here for it

"YOU'RE MY GIRL," he said, bottom lip hanging loose like a forbidden fruit. THE CHEEK TOUCHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRB, gonna take a quick shower...

Why are these close-ups getting closer and closer??? Is this a symbol of Beth's tunnel vision? Feels kinda weird actually

NO! The abrupt switch from Rio to gross sweaty Deansie is absolutely unbearable. HOW DARE THEY??????

Has anyone, like ever, asked for a power clip of Dean working out???

Beth, asking the same question ten times and expecting a different answer is the definition of insanity. Taking a second pregnancy test for double check is valid. But ten?

WHERE CAN I SUBSCRIBE TO THIS DRUNK DETROIT CHANNEL???

Is Gayle just discovering the basic concepts of marketing while she's supposed to be a successful business-runner?? This doesn't make any sense

I appreciate Annie questioning Beth's self-proclaimed leadership. It's too bad it doesn't lead to anything.

So I get that it's supposed to make Beth appear like a true boss, but why is Gil suddenly saying where the money is while his blackmailing argument was for once extremely persuasive?

What's in the van, what's in the vaaaaaaan???

And. Another. French. Pop. Song.

Well, I for once agree with Dean, having a fifth kid IS a discussion. Honestly the only interesting part of this scene is learning that Beth's into roleplay, acrobatics and sextoys...

Gosh, this episode is probably the worst of the season. Beth is using everyone in the ugliest ways. She's using Rhea to save herself while she's acted awfully to her. She's using Dean as a sperm bank. She's using Rio and tricks him into believing she's carrying his child. She's using Ruby to get Gil's van. Ugh.

DIANE!!!!!!!

So, did Gil go or not?? Also, "he just is," is not an answer, Elizabeth, the correct answer was "I never listened much during gun practice and fucked up my aim as a result"

"HEY NOW"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The super romantic music playing during the "nauseous" scene feels a bit... off?? Like, I don't understand the intent, this episode is really fucked up, I feel like they couldn't settle for a tone and mixed a lot of things together, which can sometimes result in a brilliant mix in the end, but here it's just odd.

Extremely pissed that we didn't get to see Beth's first ride in the G-Wagon, trying to eat the ice-cream before it melts and Rio being all stressed-out about stains on the leather.

Dean, literally: "I just think it's healthier for my marriage not to cheat on my wife" oh you think, dude??? What was your first clue?

Can someone explain to me why Dean is the character from this show who gets laid/propositioned the most?? Like, WHO are these women?

I love how we can clearly see Beth's pulse during the gyno waiting room scene. Like, idk if it's just normal that it's so visible at this filming distance or if Christina is THAT good, but it feels very organic.

Okay quick poll: are there women out there who DON'T keep track of the date of their last period??? How can you not KNOW?

Oooooh, I forgot the puddle of nonsense that was this pregnancy plot. If Rio's been gone for two months, then there's no way you can't see the embryo AND have a heartbeat. And there's no way Rio would buy the ob-gyn's bullshit, especially since he's apparently been around during Rhea's pregnancy.

One more thing: death threats aside isn't that weird in general to take your new partner to your ex's ob-gyn??

I find the cereal-eating scene really gross tbh. This food looks disgusting.

MIIIIIIIICK!!!!!!!

And finally. This is it. After his long hiatus, Carlos Aviles is no longer Rio's Henchman #2 or Scary Guy #1. He's Mick, and honestly 80% responsible for my enjoyment of season 3.

Bonus: Look at this pwetty pwetty face...

[freckled-lili]

So some of you may be trying not to remember that I did a silly, cingey playthrough that I called Sou Doki Doki!, where I was playing Doki Doki Literature Club and named the MC after Sou Hiyori, then for the rest of the VN acted out as Sou. It wasn’t very good.

But anyway.

During Act 2 of the VN I had also wrote a poem and uploaded it into three parts (mostly because the poem ended up being a lot longer than I had originally intended). But I had also encrypted the poems in different codes (Base64, Binary ... I think the last was UCode or something?), because that was gimmick DDLC also did with some of their easter eggs - hide extra poems or additional content through encryption.

After some thought, I’ve finally decided to upload all three parts in normal text for anyone who was curious about what was going on with those poems. I will admit it’s not that great, but I worked really hard on the poem so I’m satisfied with how it came out.

*skateboards out*

The Man with the Glass Smile

 Part 1

Today I was invited to a game

When I arrived, there were only

Two holes

They fit perfectly for my eyes

They must have been made

For me

They said

“Look inside me”

So I peered inside

Not all things can be ignored

Inside were rivers

All rushing and struggling

To move forward

To steer their own course

Fleeing nonsensically,

A world full of tangled possibilities

But all rivers lead to

The bottomless ocean

You can’t change nature

You can’t change the threads of fate

I stumbled back

The two holes said,

“I’m sorry

Did you think that all life

Was equal in this game?

You are all nothing but

Numbers on a page

And you and I

Are the most insignificant

Of them all”

I fell to my knees

tried to scream

But

I was choking

A million beats

threatening to erupt from

my throat

Tiny frogs

trying to swim up

a waterfall

Something was dribbling

from my lips

I covered my mouth

But soon it was lea

king

from the cracks of my pale fingers

Excreting from my body

was ink and glass

It splattered over

the floor below me

A black, cracked pond that reflected

Nothing

Least of all myself

The pond grew tall

Morphed and twitched into

A figure

He had a smile made of glass

He was someone I should know

A memory shoved in the back

Or a piece of my soul I barely knew

The man with the glass smile said

“I’m sorry

You should never have been sent

To the front lines

I am not your savior

I will be the one

To walk out of this game

For you

All you have to do

Is stay inside”

I wish I could I say

I refused countless times

It’s hard to remain crystal clear

When the mind is

crac k ing

I rested my head down on his shoulders

Held him like a tired child

He carried me in his arms

Ink stained my skin

Shards pricked my flesh

There is no flawless future

So I buried myself

In the ink and shards

We held each other close

We conducted our discordant lullaby

“We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together

We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together

We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together

We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together”

I close my eyes

I will sleep

Until the poem is finished…

Part 2

…but I couldn’t sleep

There were voices

From outside

It was so cramped here

It was made for me after all

Is survival supposed to feel so

Lonely?

I saw two holes along the walls

They fit perfectly for my eyes

My isolation enticed me to peek

Not all things will be ignored

Outside there were eyes

They were upset about something

Seething, glaring, squinting

Their pupils dilating with hunger

For demise

My demise

They drew in close

They said,

“Soon

Soon

Soon it will be

Your turn to die

Soon”

Distressed, I looked down at

Myself

But I was no longer mine

I belonged to the man with the glass smile

That was the deal

With my mouth

We bared cracked grins

With my voice,

We crafted lies to conceal me

With my hands

We passed the skull to another

With their lives,

We moved forward

With his way,

My hands are crimson

It hurts

Is this really survival?

I pleaded

“It wasn’t me!

I’m sorry, it wasn’t me!”

But my mouth

Wasn’t mine anymore

The man with the glass smile

Stroked my cheek with jagged hands

Wet with inky tears

He said,

“I’m sorry

Did you think this was going to be easy?

We’re only doing this

Because you can’t

They’re only numbers on a page

All frantically adding and subtracting each other

Are you really weeping for numbers?

Don’t forget

Yours the most insignificant

Of them all”

He drew me away from the holes

We whispered out lullaby

“We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together

We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together

We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together

We/I can(‘t) keep the pieces together”

Inside I tried to sleep

The poem will be over soon.

But I couldn’t think about verses

Only numbers

They’re just supposed to be numbers

Why does it hurt

When one is taken out of the equation?

It doesn’t matter

How many times it gets better

1000 x 0 = 0

All rivers lead to the bottomless ocean

The voices our louder

Swarming, twisting, writhing,

I can’t breath

Has anyone drowned in sound before?

This can’t be survival

I need to get out

So I start scratching

Fingernails rakING violently around me

A revolting

cac

O

PHO

ny

Of voices and s////cr\\\\a////tche\\\\s

Soon my nails are stuffed with pulp

Like a FATTENED cherry pie

I keep s////cr\\\\atchi////ng\\\\

I//// ke\\\\ep sc////rat\\\\ching

S ////c r A \\\\ t C H I n //// g gggggggggggg \\\\

The man with the glass smile

Peels me away from the walls

Shards pierce my skull

Ink stinging my cuts

He said

“I’m sorry

But you knew

You could never survive this game

That’s why I’m at the front lines

There are no saviors

There are no heroes

There is only surviving

You can’t really die on the inside”

We struggled

We scrEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEamed

at each other

“We/I CAN(‘t) keep the pieces together!

We/I can(‘T) keep the pieces together!

We/I CAN(‘t) keep the pieces together!

We/I can(‘T) KEEP THE PIECES TOGETHER!”

He went back outside

I kept sc////rat\\\\c////hin\\\\g inside

This is not survival

I want this poem to end

I hate how it’s coming out

I keep scr////at\\\\c////hi\\\\ng …

Part 3

…but it was all meaningless

I always knew

If there really was no chance

Then I wish I was taken out of the equation

Before I put together a glass smile

There were two holes

They fit perfectly for my eyes

I crawled towards them

And took another peek

There are some things you won’t ignore

Outside there were eyes

They were upset about something

Seething, glaring, squinting

All hungry for demise

My demise

I’m sorry

In the distance

There was a silhouette

Faint as a ghost

They fluttered towards me

Softly

A cherry blossom in the wind

Their little hands poked through the holes

I held them by their fingertips

Tried not to stain them with ink

(Or was it blood?

I can’t tell anymore

It all looks the same now)

They didn’t seem to mind

I forgot what gentleness felt like

Behind me

A cacophony of voices and scratches

In front of me

The hushing breath

Of a meadow’s breeze

They swept away

The madness of sound

I forgot what tenderness sounded like

Did you ever think

That a ghost would bring life?

I forgot what that was

I wasn’t living

I was simply not dying

I always had my head down

Trying to keep the pieces together

I was always struggling

To remain afloat in the rushing river

With one faint touch

I looked up and remembered

To bathed in the sunbeams

With one faint touch

I felt a little more grounded

And finally touched the sky

The air felt so clean and clear

I breathed again.

They asked me

“Have you ever met someone

Who became a ghost before they died?

I am a ghost for someone I lost

Just like you

Who you lost, I don’t know

You and I are simply flickering in life

Maybe I can save you

What little light I have left

I want you to have

So you may be your own light again

If I have to fade

I’m ready for that”

They let go

They fluttered away

But not to join the wind

A cherry blossom adrift

On the ocean’s surface

Ready to sink

Did you keep my head up

So I could watch you go

And never come back?

The man with the glass smile asked,

“Are you really weeping for numbers?

It’s just another subtraction

That’s how the game goes

Remember

You’re the most insignificant

Of them all

Subtracting you won’t save anyone”

Enough

My fingers flew up

Smashed the glass smile

From my face

I reached out

I already lost myself

Please!

Don’t let me lose them too!

Please!

But the two holes were too small

So I start scratching again

Dug my nails along the edges of the holes

Spread them open

I leap out

All rivers lead to the bottomless ocean

I reach out

With the last of my strength

I held up the flickering ghost

With my last breath

I blew them back into the wind

And they fluttered away once more

There are saviors here

But that savior wasn’t me

Under the surface of the ocean

I gazed up towards the reflection

Of the man who once had a glass smile

I said,

“I’m not sorry

I can’t live being made of glass

You and I

Could never keep the pieces together

Instead you just picked off

the shards from my broken body

Laid them down

For someone to bleed on

How can I walk out of this game

If you keep taking me apart

And leave me behind?

The person I lost was me

You were never really surviving

Just writing a long-winded poem

Hoping you would never have to

Finish it”

The final word

Was mine

I’m reaching the end of this poem

I never felt so happy

I sunk into the cradle of the ocean

Silence never sounded so beautiful

I smile

I sink

I live

0.0%

[lawdtl]

BeChloe - Betty

so here’s that bechloe fanfic based on taylor swift’s song; betty..it’s best if you hear the song first for all the feels, so enjoy peeps, i hope you guys like it :)

Beca didn’t like the fact that she had to move in with her dad, didn’t like that she had to move to a whole new state for her last year in high school, she didn’t like the fact that she has to meet new people and have to introduce herself again to a bunch of strangers who she was only going to be with for a year, she also did not enjoy the fact that she has to go to summer class just because the school she was going to attend  required her to do so.

On her first week of summer class, all she did was sulk, I mean who even wants to wake up 7 am in the morning for a stupid class on summer she thinks to herself, none of this was appealing, and suddenly a red head with ocean like eyes came on the second week, she sat beside beca, smiling wide like somehow summer class was something enjoyable for her, the teacher asked her to introduce herself and it turns out she was already a student from the school, and her name was chloe, she had just returned from an important family matter making her miss the first week of summer class

When chloe sat down again, beside her, of all people, she introduced herself to beca, scooting a little closer, offering her hand for a handshake, grinning wide, it’s like she was an over sweetened cereal as a person who forgot what personal space meant

“hi I’m chloe”

“yeah I know you just said it in front of the whole class”

“yeah well, what about you, what’s your name? I haven’t seen you around school before, are you new?”

“beca, and it’s none of your business”

“oh come on, I know it’s summer class but doesn’t mean we can’t have fun”

“fun? In summer class? I should be at home relaxing, not giving a shit about how I dress and what time I wake up”

“same, but we gotta make the most out of this right?”

“Whatever red”

Chloe was always friendly, sometimes a little too friendly, she had lots of friends from school and she was a cheerleader too so usually when people see her, they already know her from somewhere, going to summer class was never on her plans, but she failed a subject, so what else she can do about it, might as well just do what needs to be done she thinks to herself, she had to come in late though because of some family stuff but when she entered the room on the second week of class, what she didn’t expect was to see someone that will interest her, the girl was staring at her, but not in a happy way, she walked past the empty seats in front and decided to seat beside the girl with furrowed brows and moody attitude, she hadn’t seen her before but somehow she wanted to get to know her

Weeks passed and slowly beca and chloe got closer, somehow the redhead managed to break beca’s walls and got her to open up more, they hang out a lot after class, had lunch together and always sat together during classes, most of the times beca didn’t even try to listen to the teachers, she had no interest in paying attention so chloe always helped her with her notes and even forced her to study, the two of them fell into a friendship they didn’t know they needed, and although beca was still hesitant sometimes, she had grown close to chloe,

And just like their friendship something unexpected happened, beca had fallen in love with chloe, had fallen in love with how she laughed, with how she made her feel all flustered,  with how every time beca made her listen to her music, chloe gave her honest opinions and showed real appreciation, she fell in love with their small conversations and their silly inside jokes that no one could ever understand, she even loved how they can message each other all through the night about nonsense things that they both just enjoyed talking about, and with that beca suddenly felt scared, scared that she might lose chloe if she ever act upon her feelings, so she kept it all inside

All summer long they were inseparable, even after summer class they still managed to hang out, doesn’t matter when or where, they always seemed to have a good time, never running out of things to do together, chloe always went over to beca’s house, they didn’t even live far from each other, they’d order pizza and watch movies all day, but on the week before school started, they were hanging out at beca’s house, just like a normal day, chloe just had to know, just had to ask something she couldn’t keep herself from knowing the answer to

“becs can I ask you something?”

“hmm?”

“do you uhm, do you like someone?”

“huh? What are you talking about?”

“nothing, just…curious is all”

“I don’t like anybody”

“oh, well..what do you..like?..in a person”

“I don’t know chlo, can we drop this”

“well do you like me?”

“what do you mean?”

“do you..like,..like me?

“I don’t know where this is going chloe”

“okay don’t get mad, but just before summer classes ended, someone from our class told me that you liked me, and that it’s obvious and I need to know if it’s true because”

“get out”

“beca, come on”

“no get out, now”

“can we at least talk about this”

“just go chloe, please”

Chloe headed out with a heavy heart, eyes filled with tears ready to fall any minute now, she rode her bike on her way home feeling like an idiot, thinking that maybe she never should have opened it up, she should have just shut up about it, because now she’s losing beca, and she never wanted that to happen

When school started beca saw chloe from afar, she can feel chloe’s eyes watching her, clinging to her as if they were touches, but beca ignored them all, she ignored her on Monday, on Tuesday, Wednesday  and even on Thursday when both of them were at the gym while their favourite song played on the speakers, she watched chloe as she practiced with her cheerleader friends and she envied them, envied their closeness, and when chloe’s head turned to her way, they locked eyes, suddenly pain and longing coursed through beca’s veins, so she turns away like nothing has happened, she glanced over just one more time and sees chloe dance with some tall guy and felt her heart break into a million pieces, jealousy sinking in,  and on Friday while beca was inside the toilets, washing her hands, chloe came out on one of the stalls, their eyes met on the mirror and felt the whole world stopped moving, beca hurriedly dried her hands and just before she was about to leave, chloe speaks up

“beca, I’m sorry..i never wanted you to feel“

“it’s okay, I don’t need your apology, just…it’s not your fault”

Beca walked away feeling broken, like something inside her just died, she was scared, scared to confront her feelings, she never felt like this before, never felt this kind of love before, she goes straight home after classes and as she rode her skateboard on her way home she passed by chloe’s house, and it’s like she couldn’t breathe, memories of them during the summer filled her thoughts, she shakes her head and forced herself to forget it all, to act as if it was all some stupid dream

Once she gets home she sees a message from chloe, asking her to go to her house tomorrow “there’s a party at my place tomorrow, please go, I would love to see you, please, can we please talk about this” beca stares at the message, hoping that it’ll erase itself, she lies down on her bed, imagining all the scenarios that could happen if she does go, what else does she have to lose with chloe, she thinks to herself, they’re already ignoring each other, so maybe, just maybe, a talk with her won’t make things any worse than they are now

Beca stands in front of her mirror, wearing jeans and her favourite shirt, breathing slowly and continuously asking herself if what she’s about do, is the right decision, she looks at herself on the mirror and she closes her eyes, trying to calm herself, psyching herself up to whatever may happen on this Saturday night, she heads outside to grab her skateboard on the way to chloe’s house, heart beating fast, and hands shaking, she stands in front of the door at chloe’s house and rings the doorbell, it’s going to be fine, everything is going to be fine she tells herself over and over again until the door opens up and she sees chloe, standing in front of her, with those beautiful eyes and her little smile, but before she could even say a word, chloe grabs her hand and drags her to the back in the little private area on the garden

“I know how much you hate crowds, so this is the next best thing to private…what changed your mind?”

“to what?”

“to talk to me”

“well, I guess I have nothing else left to lose, so..yeah, here I am, what do you want to talk about”

“about us”

“what about it”

“do you like me?”

It was like beca’s whole world stopped again, there’s that question, “do you like me” it’s as if her whole life depended on the answer to that question and by the look at chloe’s eyes she felt the same, it’s time to be honest she thinks to herself, she owes chloe that much

“what if I said yes”

“then we can talk about it”

“talk about?”

“well, I’ll you that I like you too, and that you asking me to go before I could say that to you was rude”

“you like me?”

“ever since that first day”

“why didn’t you tell me”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“you, you actually like me?”

“yes beca, I do, I like how you make me laugh with your stupid jokes, like how you make me feel special, love how when you talk to me it’s as if no one else mattered in the world but us, so yes, yes I do like you”

“I wanted to tell you but I got scared, scared of rejection, scared that you’ll leave”

“and yet, you left”

“I know, I was afraid chlo”

“I’m afraid too, I never wanted anyone so much until I met you”

It was all too surreal, beca thinks; everything was happening so fast, the loud music in the background, people’s voices, the smell of smoke and liquor clouding the whole area

“so what does this mean”

“this means I love you beca”

“I..i love you too chlo”

Everything was perfect, never in her wildest dreams she thought she’d get the girl in the end, they pressed their foreheads together,  eyes closed, not wanting the moment to go away, and just as chloe brushes her nose on beca’s to reach her lips, the lights on the garden lit up and people could see them, but this didn’t stop chloe from finally kissing her, and when they kissed, anyone in the party didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was chloe and her.

[sol-tinyrayofsun]

Zutara Week Day 6 - Affirm:  It Was Always You (Falling For Me)

This little story has been on my mind for quite some time now and I somehow made it work with the prompt. It’s really fluffy, ridiculous, and features a lot of Toph’s brilliance to mess with her friends yet always meaning well. I just had a good time writing it, it was honestly a fun ride.

I hope you enjoy it! As always, thank you for reading! Feedback and comments are always appreciated! <3 In case you prefer it, also on AO3! Title: It Was Always You (Falling For Me)

Rating: G

Summary: When Katara let Toph convince her of giving Zuko a love potion to make him fall in love with her, she knew the chances of the plan going sideways were extremely high. Still, the last thing she expected was for Zuko to act normal. Painfully normal. Operation “Sparky Falling For Sugar Queen” turns out to be a little too complicated. (Set after Ember Island Players but before Sozin’s Comet).

----- “Pst! Katara!”

The waterbender tilted her head. The kitchen appeared to be empty. Still, she could hear someone calling for her, loud and clear. She had been busy making sure they had everything ready for lunch around Zuko’s holiday house at Ember Island. 

“Katara!” There it was, that voice again. “Listen up, Sugar Queen!”

Wait for a second, that was Toph’s voice. Definitely. 

“Toph?” She asked, walking around the room. “Where on earth are you?”

“Inside the broomstick closet!” Toph chuckled. “Come here for a sec.”

Katara did as she said. Once she opened the door, she found Toph mischievously smirking, holding a little bottle in her hands. 

“So, what is it?” 

“This!” Toph replied, showing off the bottle with a grin on her face. “This is what I wanted to show you!”

“And you were hidden with all those broomsticks because…” 

“Dramatic effect, Sugar Queen, never underestimate it,” she said, stepping into the kitchen hall. “Now, aren’t you going to ask what this is for?”

“Sure, Toph,” Katara let out an amused sigh. “Why is it so important?

“How do you feel about having some fun at Sparky’s expenses?”

In all honesty, the idea sounded tempting. After the dreadful night Katara had endured with that stupid play just days ago, she could use more than a little fun. Although Toph’s idea of fun could sometimes be questionable, at the very least.

“Hold up. What do you have in mind?”

“This little thing,” Toph shook the bottle up in the air. “It’s a temporary love potion.”

Katara broke down in a scandalous laugh. “Yeah, and where did you get that from?”

Toph made a defensive frown. “Hey, it’s the real deal! I bought it from a weird old lady in town. She wasn’t lying, I swear.”

“Alright, I believe you. And what do you suggest we do with it?” 

“Yes, that’s the attitude!” she celebrated. “According to the weirdo, two drops of this stuff and you can make anyone fall at your feet. All you need is for the other person to consume it while looking at you. And I just thought, wouldn’t it be hilarious if Zuko just happened to suddenly be crazy in love with you? That play inspired me, that’s all I’m saying.”

Well, that sounded like a recipe for disaster. Especially considering the way that play had contributed to her latest confusion regarding her feelings for two very powerful - and very different - benders. Still, it was a tempting offer. 

“Toph, that’s insane!” Hesitation could be heard in her voice. “Trust me, pranking Zuko would be entertaining, but we cannot force him to be forever in love with me! I mean, what on earth would we do then? Seems a little cruel to me.”

“See? That’s the catch. It’s temporary. Two drops would only make him fall in love with you for a couple of days, tops. Come on! I thought you had been introduced to the concept of fun.”

Spirits, screw it. Two days of some harmless fun, how bad could it be? She could use a little distraction from the constant stress they were all under.

“Are you sure the effect will wear off?” 

“Absolutely. Say yes, please! You know I can always do it without you. Or to you.” A mischievous smile framed her face. “You know you want to torture Sparky a little bit.”

“Alright… Let’s do it. But if anything goes sideways it’s your responsibility.” 

“Heck yeah! That’s the spirit!” Toph gave her an affectionate punch in the shoulder. “Oh man, this is going to be too fun to watch!”

And so operation “Sparky falling for Sugar Queen” was put into motion. The two girls would prepare some tea - which would undoubtedly bribe Zuko in there - and make sure he was left alone with Katara when it came to drinking it. Toph would oversee everything from a cautious distance. It was the craziest, most random idea ever. But it sure sounded like fun.

 Once everything was ready, Katara waited for Zuko in the kitchen. Needless to say, she was feeling a tad nervous. Waiting by the countertop, staring at the two teacups in front of her, she felt her heart racing on her chest. 

It was just for two days. And it would certainly be nice to laugh with Toph about Zuko’s ridiculous lovey-dovey attitude. Most importantly, she wouldn’t even dream to risk Toph giving her the concoction. No, her feelings were already messy enough without the help of any love potion. 

“Katara, are you in here?” Zuko’s voice interrupted her overthinking. “Toph said you made tea for me…?”

Time for the show. She put on her brightest smile as Zuko sat down in front of her. 

“Yes! You seemed so tired this morning, figured you could use a little boost.” 

She handed him the cup with the two drops mixed in the tea. 

Zuko gifted her with a thankful smile. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.”

Nice of me… Yeah, sure. Just drink the tea and look at me. 

He started drinking, only to stop after a few sips to have a little chat.

“So, Aang’s training is looking decent,” he started saying. “But I can tell he’s getting increasingly anxious. We might need to keep an eye on him, I wouldn’t want him to start avoiding our sessions.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Katara intervened. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t slack on his training. Drink your tea, it’ll get cold otherwise.”

“Alright, alright,” he complied, looking into her eyes. “Thanks again for making it.” 

Katara observed him as he drank the whole thing in one go. Her golden eyes staring at her with an amused shine to them. She wondered how Zuko being in love with her would be like. He didn’t exactly give off the cheesy type vibes, though she knew how much of a dork he actually was. If you fall in love because of a potion, you’re pretty much doomed to grandiloquent gestures and infatuated declarations, right? Well, she wasn’t an expert on the subject. But she did know a thing or two about having feelings for someone.

Toph sneaked into the kitchen, placing her hands on Zuko’s shoulders and giving them one tight squeeze. “Hello there, Sparky, how are you feeling on this lovely day?” 

“Hey Toph,” he greeted her. “Much better after that tea, actually.”

Despite the perfectly normal response, Toph continued with her attack.

“You know what? Sugar Queen over here confessed to me this morning that she felt she looked terrible. I’m clearly not the best judge when it comes to looks.” The vicious smile on her face was a little too obvious. “How is she looking today, Sparky? Isn’t she stunning as usual?”

Oh, no. Katara felt herself blushing. The whole operation had quickly turned into Toph having fun at the expenses of both her and Zuko. But in all honesty, how could she had ever expected otherwise?

“Um, well,” Zuko mumbled, his eyes glued to the countertop. “She looks just the same to me. Like you said, um, she’s got her usual look.”

Katara wished Toph could see the look of utter confusion in her eyes. That was not the response she had imagined. 

Zuko abruptly stood up. “Alright, I think I’ll get back to training. See you two later,” he greeted them. “Oh, and Katara. Thanks again for the tea.”

‘Thanks for the tea’? So much for romantic gestures. 

Toph grasped her arm as soon as Zuko was out the door. 

“What on earth? That was the least romantic interaction ever.” The earthbender exclaimed, looking frustrated. 

“Hey, let’s give it some time. Maybe the effect hasn’t kicked in yet.” 

“Okay, we’ll wait. Man, what a bummer. I was fully expecting him to start a rant about how beautiful you are.” Toph threw her hands up in the air, grunting.

“Patience, we’ll get there,” Katara reassured her.

But am I even sure I want to get there? 

Deep down, a part of her was hoping for it.

The rest of the day was spent with Toph trying her best to get Zuko to do anything remotely romantic regarding Katara, in an attempt to kick off the love potion effects. Much to her frustration, nothing seemed to do the trick. Katara wasn’t sure what to think of it. Did she feel relieved, disappointed, or maybe even bored? Truth be told, it was kind of a mix of all three. 

Katara witnessed as Toph did everything she could. From suggesting they paired up in training all the way up to making them meditate together. All she got from Zuko was radio silence. Well, at least in the sense they were expecting. 

“Are you sure you don’t feel a little weird, Sparky?” Toph asked him for the millionth time during dinner. 

“Um, no? Why?” Zuko had a look of complete confusion on his face. 

“You sure you don’t feel a little more sparky than usual? Don’t you sense some new emotions?” Toph continued. “Anything different?”

“Alright, that’s enough Toph,” Katara interrupted. “You’re scaring the poor boy.”

“Yeah, Toph, what’s all that nonsense about?” Sokka asked. 

“Why should Zuko feel different?” Aang’s voice showed a tad of concern. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Toph replied. “Calm down, you all. I was just wondering.”

Katara noticed the annoyed frown on her friend’s face. She seemed pissed off by the lack of results, the whole plan had been her idea after all. 

After the meal, Suki stayed with them doing the dishes. 

“Are you two going to tell me what’s going on already?” she asked them, with her hands on her hips and an inquisitive look in her eyes. 

“Going on with what?” Toph played the innocent. “We’re just scraping plates.”

“Oh, come on! You have been acting weird all day! Especially you, Toph, asking Zuko the most random questions.”

“What do you say, Sugar Queen, should we tell her?” Toph asked.

“Sure, maybe she’ll even know why it’s not working,” Katara replied. “But Suki, promise not to tell any of the guys, alright?”

Suki let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, just spill it.” 

“Okay, let me see. We made Sparky drink a love potion with his tea so he would fall in love with Katara. For two days. And before you ask, yes, it’s legit. Oh, but nothing’s happened yet.” Toph´s explanation was accompanied by a playful grin on her face. 

“You’re joking, right?” Suki asked with a sarcastic smirk. “Katara would never be on board with that.”

“Actually,” she said, blushing. “I thought it was kind of a fun idea.”

“Yeah, so much for fun since Sparky hasn’t shown any signs of love and it’s been hours! He should be acting all lovey-dovey already.”

Suki burst into laughter. “Spirits, that’s hilarious! You gave him a freaking love potion and he’s acting as usual?”

“I don’t get what you’re laughing about! Something’s seriously wrong with him! Or us!” Toph complained. “Katara, are you sure you didn’t drink the potion yourself?”

“Yes, Toph, I’m absolutely positive I gave him the cup with the two drops,” Katara replied. 

“Are you telling me you two don’t realize what’s going on?” Suki asked, an amused expression framing her face. “For being the ones to come up with this plan you seem rather clueless.”

A suspicion started to take shape into Katara’s mind. She couldn’t help but ask. “Suki, what are you talking about?” 

“Yeah, come on!” Toph urged her. “Do you know something that we don’t?”

Suki let out a soft giggle. “Well, let’s think about it. You gave Zuko a love potion to fall for Katara, right? Toph, you say it’s a legit one. But Zuko is acting painfully normal. Even though he is under the effects of the potion.”

“Your point is?” Toph was sitting down on the countertop with a desperate expression on her face. 

“If Zuko acts just as usual when he is supposed to be artificially in love with Katara… What do you think it’s the reason?”

“His heart is missing?” 

“The dose wasn’t strong enough?”

“No!” Suki exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “He was already in love with her!”

Wait. What? That doesn’t make any sense.

“Spirits, Spirits, Spirits!!!” Toph jumped down the countertop, hands on her head, and on the verge of screaming. “That’s it! Suki, you’re a genius.”

Katara hadn’t even blinked. She was not even entirely sure she was still breathing. Zuko in love with her? It couldn’t be. He had even looked embarrassed by the way the play paired them together. Although she had acted embarrassed as well. And a part of her knew very well why. 

“Sugar Queen, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner.” Toph poked her cheeks. “His heartbeat is all over the place whenever you’re around but again so is yours, and I thought it was just all that love/hate dynamic you’ve got going on. I had actually started to suspect he liked you, but Spirits, I didn´t realize he loves you.”

Love/hate, what? This can’t be happening.

Suki raised a brow. “Hold up, Toph, are you saying Katara’s heart beats faster when Zuko is around?”

“That’s a lie!” Katara exclaimed, snapping out. She couldn’t let her friends figure out the truth. “My heart is perfectly fine, thank you very much. And Zuko is not in love with me!”

“And I suppose you have unlimited access to his mind and that’s how you know that?” Toph deadpanned. 

“No… I - That’s unfair Toph,” she managed to mumble, feeling her heart starting to race on her chest.

“As unfair as the fact that you’re heart is betraying your words in this exact second,” Toph replied. 

Katara wished with all of her strength that the ground opened up and swallowed her. The entire operation had gone sideways. But not in the way she had originally expected. No, it was worse.

“Alright, alright,” Suki intervened. “Enough torturing with Katara, this was supposed to be about Zuko.”

“Thank you. Can we please go back to the point?” 

Toph let out an exasperated sigh. “The point is Zuko is in love with you, Sugar Queen. But not because of the love potion, it seems like he’s been head over heels for you way before drinking that tea.”

“I seriously can't believe you didn’t figure this out sooner,” Suki said. “The question is, what are you going to do about it, Kat?” 

That was a very good question indeed. One she had no answer for. 

“Why should I even do something about it?” Katara asked, a confused look in her eyes. 

“Because I think deep down you want to.” Suki’s tone got serious all of the sudden.

Toph placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sugar Queen, I’m sorry if my prank ended up bringing you a headache. But Suki’s right, you should confront him.”

“Confront him? We’re in the middle of a war! I don’t need any distractions.” Her head was spinning a little too fast.

“Says the girl who complied to give a love potion to Sparky,” Toph remarked.

“Katara, would you seriously prefer to have a lump on your throat until Aang has taken down Fire Lord Ozai?”

Truth be told, she would hate that. A part of her knew she had feelings for Zuko. For that poor firebender she had given a love potion to. Only to have the whole scheme backfire right on her face. Now, she had to stand up to it. 

“No.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t prefer that.” 

“Then hear me out because I have a plan!” Toph exclaimed, enthusiasm written all over her face. “I know how to get one last bit of fun out of this failure of an operation.”

——

The next day went out according to what the girls had planned. Still hoping for at least a bit of extra romance on Zuko’s behalf - which, unsurprisingly, never occurred - the three of them acted normal all the way until the afternoon. 

After training, Toph cornered the poor Zuko on his way to the beach. Katara and Suki stayed at the shore, discreetly listening. 

“Sparky, this is your last chance!” Toph exclaimed.

“My last chance for what?” The look of sheer confusion on his face was priceless to say the least. 

“Come on! Please tell me you are feeling extra lovey-dovey and maybe I’ll let you walk away without making you even more uncomfortable.”

“Toph, I swear I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’re telling me you don’t feel any special romantic feelings today?”

“Um, no?” His voice had a strain of nervousness to it.

“And what about regular feelings? Got them for anyone? Maybe for someone you drink a lot of tea with?”

“Uh - No? Um, Toph, can I please go now?” Zuko stuttered. 

“Ha! I knew it, you sneaky little bastard! That’s a lie.” Toph threw her hands up in the air. “I can tell you’re lying. I was right, heck yeah!”

Zuko anxiously tried to get past her. “Alright, sure, can I please go down to the beach now?” 

“Don’t you want to know why I’m asking you this?”

“Do I have to?”

“We gave you a love potion, Sparky! A love potion mixed with that tea you drank yesterday. And you were supposed to fall in love with Miss Sugar Queen!” Toph’s was grinning from ear to ear. 

Katara and Suki exchanged a concerned look. That was not part of the plan. Katara was supposed to be the one to tell Zuko about the love potion. After Toph had made sure whether he was lying or not. Then, and only maybe, she would mention the tricky subject of actual feelings. 

“What on earth, Toph?” Zuko’s face was pale as a ghost. “Why would you do that?” 

“Because I've been suspecting for forever that you liked her! And when I got that love potion it was just too tempting not to go for it. I thought it would be a fun experiment! Katara was also on board with it.” 

“But?”

“But it only made me reaffirm my theory! What I didn’t expect is that you don’t just like her, you’re full-blown in love with her!”

“Toph, can you please tone it down? I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear this conversation,” Zuko pleaded.”

Katara was cursing Toph, Suki, Zuko, the moon, the stars, the Spirits, and herself. Toph playing matchmaker as subtle as an elephant trying to fit into her sleeping tent.

“Sparky, don’t you see Katara and Suki over there in the corner? They’re already listening!” Toph waved at the two of them, she had the most amused look on her face.

“What? Toph!” Zuko’s face was now entirely red. “You’re insane.”

“Sh, let me get to the best part,” she shushed him. “I think our dear Sugar Queen has something very important to tell you.”

Toph grabbed him by the wrist and started marching up to them. 

Toph, you’ll pay for this, Katara thought as she found herself in front of Zuko. 

“Now, I think Suki and I have to go do literally anything else but being here,” Toph resolved. “Alright! Everyone’s happy? See you!

“Kat, I’m sorry,” Suki mumbled. “I had no clue about this but I’ll better go.”

The two girls sprinted back to the house, where Aang and Sokka were probably taking care of dinner. 

Her eyes met Zuko’s, and she felt her heart racing inside of her chest. The awkwardness of the situation was remarkable. 

“So… I’m taking it you heard everything Toph said?” Zuko asked, sitting down on the shore next to her. 

“Yeah,” she replied, nervously playing with the sand that surrounded them. “I’m sorry about the love potion thing. It was stupid of me.”

“I just didn’t understand the logic behind it. Were you going to let me be in love with you for all eternity?”

“The effect was supposed to wash out tomorrow…” She let out a sigh. “But I guess it’s the same now.”

“Because you realized that I acted normal around you even with the potion?”

“Exactly.” Katara took a deep breath. “Look, Zuko, I had no clue-”

“Katara,” he interrupted her. “It’s okay. I don’t mind you know.”

“So it’s true then? Are you…”

“Am I in love with you?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his whole body seemed anxious. “Yeah, I am. I guess even more than I knew.”

Silence. Just sheer silence. 

Zuko rushed to continue. “It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way.”

But she did feel the same way. 

“Look, I think I’m in love with you too,” she blurted out, feeling her cheeks turning bright red.

“You are?” His voice was tinted with astonishment. 

She nodded in agreement. Then, she proceeded to say something else. “The night of the play, Aang felt terrible about the possibility of us being together. He kissed me and… and I pulled apart. I was horribly confused. A part of me knew he has always expected to be with me. But it didn’t feel right.”

Katara made a pause. She couldn’t believe she was actually saying those words out loud. 

“Go on, I’m listening,” Zuko encouraged her.

“Well, I knew I felt something for you for a long time already. But with what happened the night of the play, and now this whole love potion thing… I realize I’m in love with you too.”

Zuko brushed his fingertips against the back of her hand. “Thank you, for being honest with me.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for not wanting to kill me for giving you a love potion.”

“Now what?”

“I don’t know. We still have a war to win.”

A moment of quietness invaded the space between them. Their fingers were intertwined, both of their hearts racing. They were savoring the confirmation of their feelings - and embracing the uncertainty - together. 

“Do you want to wait?”

“Wait?”

“Yeah, until this whole mess is over,” he explained. “We can figure out things slowly, I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m suddenly going to stop having feelings for you.”

“So you would still be in love with me… And I would still be in love with you…” 

“But we focus on winning the war first.” 

Katara tilted her to look straight at him. “Can I occasionally do this, though?”

He made a slight frown. “Do what?”

She didn’t give him much time to wonder. In a split second, she leaned onto him and placed a kiss on his lips. It was sweet, quick, and a little timid. But it was still the first kiss they shared. 

“So?” Katara asked, a light smile framing her face. “Can I?”

Zuko placed his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to rest her head on the creek of his neck. 

He squeezed her hand, chuckling. “Yeah, I think you can.”

“You know  what? I’m really glad Toph convinced me to give you that stupid love potion.”

---- I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little thing I wrote! Feedback is always appreciated! <3 Thank you for reading! @zutaraweek

[roronoa-swords]

Cop and Thief

Smoker x Portgas D. Ace

Fandom: One Piece

Genre: Smut with a lil angst

Timeline: Modern AU!

Pairing: Smoker x Ace

Request: For Op-Law from wattpad. You can also find this story there under the name Da3Stuges. I share an account with two other amazing authors💚

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

"This is the second time Portgas. When are you going to learn that doing arson is illegal?" A white haired male snarled with an irritated look on his face.

"C'mon Smokey, when are you gonna lighten up a bit? It's the 21st century, stop being so...old." The man named 'Portgas' said as he laid his head on the table.

Smoker let out a deep sigh before he uncuffed the man. "Just-...." The older man breathed. "Just get outta my sight Portgas. If I see you in here again, you're gonna regret it."

"Oh I'm soooo scared!" He mocks. "See you later old man!" The ravenette said as he ran out of the police station. Smoker's assistant, Tashigi only stood in pure, agitated disbelief.

"Why do you keep letting him go Sergeant Smoker? He's only gonna cause more trouble, not only for you, but for the entire GPD! We have to go get him!" The navy haired woman with red glasses perched on top of her head complained.

Smoker sighed. He was asked -and told- the same thing every single time. Smoker waved her off.

"Stand down Tashigi. Portgas acts like any other old reckless youngster, there is no need to get rash." Sergeant Smoker seriously needed a break. He already gained a headache trying to apprehend Portgas. He didn't need this extra addition. But, it seems Tashigi didn't get the memo.

"But sir! Portgas D. Ace is the eldest of the infamous ASL brothers! Those three terrorize any store they find! And just for food?!?! He's also allies with Whitebeard and Roger! He needs to be apprehended immediately before his entire posse raid this whole town!" The woman screeched as she tried to get her point across.

"I said stand down cadet!" He barked. "I am aware of Portgas' affiliations, I am aware of his younger brothers, and I am very much aware of the consequences of him continuing to run free." It's like the people in this damned department didn't understand.

"Please stop rambling nonsense around my head and move on from this subject. To be quite frank, I'm done with Portgas and his case. So if you want to capture him so bad, why don't you go and do it?" Smoker sneered as he has gotten fed up with Tashigi and her screeching.

"But Sergeant Smoker-.." She tried to reason but never got to finish her sentence. Smoker upped and left the room.

"Damned people. I don't know how many times they want me to repeat the same words over and over again." He grumbled as he stomped his way to his office.

"That damn brat is growing on me. Without him, these calls won't be challenging at all."

He sighed, entering his office. Sitting down on the slightly worn out chair, he gazed upon his achievements that were mounted on the wall.

'Soon, I won't have a job if I keep this up.' He thought with a sigh. This whole situation was troublesome.

Suddenly, a knock was heard.

"Enter." The tired male spoke. He waited to see who would be on the other side of his door. Surprisingly, it was Monkey D. Garp, the retired chief of police. Smoker stood up, as a sign of respect.

"G-Garp-San," He hesitated. "To what do I owe this visit? More so, why have you came to visit me?" Smoker was puzzled. Why was the greatest chief of police that ever resided in this town, here in his office?

Garp stood as strong as ever. Dressed down in his white button up and some white dress pants.

"Well, Sergeant," Garp began. " a little birdy...more-so...your assistant Tashigi, seemed to be in distress. I asked her, and she told me that you keep letting a certain freckled faced fellow go." Smoker kept his composure, but inwardly groaned. That woman could never keep her mouth shut.

"Mind explaining why you are releasing my grandson only to capture him again later on?" Garp questioned as he looked at Smoker with curious amusement.

Smoker stayed silent. It wasn't that he didn't know how to answer the question, it was more of him in denial.

"To be honest with you Chief...I'm not sure why I do that." He said scratching the back of his neck. A sign that Garp picked up from past visits, indicating he was nervous.

"Portgas brings...life to the chases we do-" Smoker paused. "him and his brothers." He continues. "So taking them in would diminish all the fun." Garp stared at him for a minute before answering.

"But you do know that even if they do rob stores for food, they have very strong and dangerous allies." He stated. "Ace with Whitebeard and Roger, Sabo with Dragon, and Luffy with Shanks. Not to mention they have their own crews. For example, Luffy and his Straw hat brats." Garp concluded as fixed Smoker with a stare.

"Though I am assuming- and hoping that this isn't the case-" Garp straightens to his full height. "Could it be that you are starting to harbor feelings for the brat?" Garp asked.

The male in question thought about the elders statement. 'Do I like Portgas? No....no I can't do that. There's no way. Unless...?' Smoker thought as he racked through his brain for answers.

Garp sighed. "Well, I've got to go. Even though they are criminals, they're still my grandkids. However, they are gonna get a rude awakening when I return back home from the holidays." He said with a menacing smile as he cracked his knuckles. He looked at Smoker then smirked at him before exited out of his office.

'That was weird.' The white haired male said as he lit up a cigar. He sat down and took a puff. He sighed out a breath as he wondered.

'What am I going to do?'

(Ace's POV)

"LUFFY! ACE! LET'S GO!" Sabo shouted. We just raided one of our favorite restaurants. We dodged a couple of frying pans, cutting boards, and a few stray eating utensils along the way. We finally arrive to our usual little hiding spot. We're here just until things die down, then we normally make our way home. Fuck I'm tired. I focus on catching my breath as Luffy starts laughing.

"Shishishi~ I got all the meat!" My idiot of a little brother exclaims.

"Lies! I got some meat too- and I aint sharing so don't give me that face." I said as my straw hat wearing brother pouts.

"You idiots argue for the most simplest things," Sabo rolled his eyes. "it's unbelievable sometimes." He sighed as he looked down in embarrassment.

"WHO YOU CALLING AN IDIOT, BARBIE DOLL?!?" I snap.

"EH!? YOU WANNA FIGHT?!" Sabo shouts back. Oh ho hooo I am not backing down bitch.

"BRING IT ON YOU SMURF!"

Sabo and I were head to head and I could see the electricity between us. "Shishishi~ usually it's me and Ace or Ace and Smokey." Luffy said as he munched on a bag of chips.

"Speaking of Smokey, he always catches you and then lets you go 5 hours later. Wanna explain?" Sabo said as he looked at me with a smirk on his face. I felt my cheeks heat up as I look the other way.

"There's nothing to explain. He catches me, we talk, then he lets me go. Nothing else." I mumbled, hoping Sabo wouldn't press into the situation more.

"Judging by your face I think you have some attraction for him." Apparently, he didn't get the hint or he got it and just didn't care.

"Ugh just drop it Sabo. Even if I DID like him there is absolutely NO POSSIBLE WAY Oyaji or that old bastard would approve." I sulk.

Sabo walks up to me and grabs my shoulders. "Wouldn't approve of what? You being gay?"

"Hmm? Oh, No, I told them my preference before and they didn't have a problem. I think they wouldn't approve because of who I chose to like. Remember," I sigh. "He's a cop. I'm a thief. Not to mention my stupid old man. It isn't gonna work."

I turn away from him as my shoulders droop. 'Besides..I think he likes that little assistant of his...despite how annoying she is.' I thought as a I succumb to my inner thoughts.

"Eh, Ace, I know you're worried about their opinion, but, if you really like him, you gotta face your fears and tell him. Rejection is always better than regret." Luffy said with a serious expression.

Sabo and I looked at him shocked. He tilts his head in confusion. 'Luffy....has a brain?' I stare at him.

"What? Is there something on my face?" He picks his nose.

'Well nevermind he's back to being an idiot.' I sweatdrop.

"Well, we should get going. Thatch needs to cook the food." Sabo said and as soon as he did, Luffy and I race back to the house.

"Hey! Wait for me! Guys!" I hear Sabo shout.

~timeskip brought to you by Marco chasing Ace around in a pineapple tank top~

"Why...did you guys..run of like that?" Sabo panted as he finally caught up with us.

"You've gotten slow Sabo..need to fix that." I say as I smirk mischievously at him. He pales at my sentence and begins to mumble something before Luffy's voice is heard, shouting so the whole block hears him. "WE'RE HOME!"

He then turns towards us, "Let's go, I want FOOODD!" and dashes inside.

Sabo and I stare at him for a second before his words fully register in my mind. "DON'T EAT ALL THE MEAT LUFFY!" I shout. I dash inside, leaving Sabo in the dust.

"Thatch! Marco! Oyaji! How are you guys?" I ask as we all sit at the table. Well Oyaji stood, but that doesn't make much of a difference.

"We're fine." Thatch hummed, "-but mind telling why you got captured today?" he questions as he glances behind him, amused.

"Oh, um...how'd you know about that?" I laugh nervously with an uneasy feeling in my chest.

"Gurararara~ We know everything around here, brat. Did you forget already?" Oyaji says, with his signature laugh.

I facepalm because of my stupidity. 'Of course Oyaji would know the smoking Sargeant.'

"Shishishi~ Ace got captured by Smokey! But their fight was..weird." Luffy's shine like literal stars as Thatch sets a plate full of meat in front of him. "Weird like how yoi?" Marco spoke, leaning on the table with a lazy smirk.

"They were saying weird stuff to each other. Like when Ace said that if Smokey has this much energy fighting, how much energy would he have in-" Luffy didn't get to finish before I shoved a piece of meat in his mouth. "OKAYY," I chuckle nervously, "we don't need to hear anymore a that, right Sabo?" I force a smile, praying that Sabo would be on my side.

Sabo looks at me before smirking. 'Oh no'

"I don't know, Ace...you were kinda..touchy with him today." He teased. "Any reason why?" I look at him with the most hateful gaze ever, but he just brushes it off. 'Damnit Sabo! You're gonna make Oyaji kill him you overgrown barbie doll!'

Everyone at the table looked at me with a face of interest. Even Izo, Vista and Haruta.

'When the hell did they get here?'

The only one who didn't had a readable expression was Oyaji. 'Fuck...he's gonna kill me'

"Were you flirting- with Sergeant Smoker, Ace?" Izo questioned me with a large smirk on his rose colored lips. Before I even had the chance to answer, the overgrown, knock-off barbie doll on the right of me spoke up.

"Flirting? It was like watching sex happen in front of my eyes-" He didn't get to finish as I slammed my fist on top of his head.

"Damnit Sabo! Are you trying to get me killed?!" I yelled as I stood up from my seat, meat on my plate forgotten.

"I mean you needed a push and I'm there to help." He winced as he rubbed the top of his head. Before I said anything, I was cut of again.

'Why the fuck do I keep getting interrupted!? I'm running out of patience.'

"Ace.." Oyaji started as he looked at me with a glare, some haki leaking through. "Are you interested in this...Sergeant?" He finished. The whole table went down in silence and Sabo looks away from me, I don't have to look at him to know he feels full of guilt.

"No Oyaji.....what gave you that idea?" I say, not looking at Oyaji in the eye.

"Ace..you know that relationship will not work. He's a Sergeant, a cop," He emphasizes. "...and you. You're a thief." He says firmly, staring into my being.

"Your relationship is gonna end up in two ways. One, he continues to set you free after every chase and loses his rank- or worse, his job-"

'I don't want to be the reason he loses his job.' I clench my fist.

"Or two, you get caught and thrown in jail." Oyaji speaks. I know what he's saying. I know what he's trying to get into my head.

"Either he's gone or your life is over."

'I know the risks....I know I don't have a chance. But why does it hurt so much hearing it from you, Oyaji?'

I thought as I bit my bottom lip.

"Honestly," He grunts. "I don't care who you date. Your father, however, is the problem." I tch. That stupid old man.

"You know he has issues trusting the police. Ever since the incident with your mother." He continued. "Of course she's alive and well, but he almost lost her, Ace. He almost lost you.

I put my head down in shame.

'I knew it. They wouldn't approve. They wouldn't accept it. Damn it.'

"I know that Oyaji..that's why I said I don't like him you know." I bark a laugh. It sounded so mechanic that Luffy had stopped eating.

"...Sabo and Luffy were just messing with me." I say flashing a pained smile, a vain attempt to seem unfazed.

"Ace.." Thatch calls. I don't answer.

"Well, that settles that. I'm going to be in my room. I'm not hungry." I slide the plate over in between Sabo and Luffy, signaling that they can have my share.

I walk out of the dining room and head to my room. 'Nothing is ever fair anymore.'

I open the door to my room and slam it closed, locking it behind me. I huff. For fuck's sake.

'I need to cool down...I don't need another lecture from Marco about burning holes into my bedroom walls again.'

Shuffling around in my room, trying to calm down- though I'm unsuccessful-, something clicks.

What if....?

I rush and throw on a shirt. I don't bother to button it up cause why not. Opening my window and climbing out, I breathe in slight anticipation.

'Maybe he's on duty tonight...'

(Sabo's POV)

I watch Ace leave the dining room with a hurt look in his eyes. 'I over did it.' I can't help but think. Pops sighs before he took a sip of his sake.

"I know the brat likes that Sergeant and frankly, I would like to see them together, but Roger wouldn't allow it."

Ah, speaking of the devil. Said man enters the house with Aunt Rouge and Uncle Rayleigh following behind him.

'Just how many people live here?' I sweatdropped.

"Ahaaa Newgate! Pass over the sake you old geezer!" Roger exclaimed, dismissing the tense atmosphere in the room. 'He either doesn't notice it, or he notices and doesn't care. Probably the latter.'

"Gurararara~ Go get your own, this one's mine." Pops said as he hogged up the rest of the sake on the table.

"Aww cmon, you drinked the rest of the booze ya old bastard." Roger complained as he took a seat next to Pops.

"For an old man he really asks like a kid yoi." Marco mumbles. "Tell me about it, and I'm married to him." Aunt Rouge added as she put two fingers on the bridge of her nose.

"Oiii!" Roger exclaimed with a pout. 'He really is a man baby'

"Roger.. Rouge.. there is something we need to...discuss." Pops says as his smile drops.

Sensing the tension in the room, Roger stopped smiling and gave a blank stare. "About what Newgate?" He questioned. "It's about Ace." Pops said.

As if the room dropped below freezing point, Roger gave Pops a ice cold stare as his haki started to leak out.

"What happened to my son?" He asked as he stood up. Marco and Thatch stood next to Pops just in case something happens.

'Now I see why Ace doesn't tell you things, Roger. You're overprotective.' I thought as I made my way over to Luffy.

"Nothing happened to him Roger..." Oyaji paused. "He's just.....experiencing feelings for someone, is all." Pops concluded.

Roger visibly relaxed and smiled "Then what's the problem? You got me all tense for nothing!" He exclaimed as he laugh, but Pops only chuckled. "Ah but wait, he's interested in an officer. Down at the GPD, there's a smokey Sergeant that's caught Ace's attention." Pops said

Roger's smile disappeared and was replaced with an angry scowl almost immediately.

"Absolutely not. There's NO WAY I'm letting my only son date an officer. After what they did to us?! No way." He said as he threw his hands up. Roger only looked away in anger and slight disbelief.

"If I may ask...what happened exactly yoi?" Marco questioned. Though, this is the first time I've seen Marco flinch when someone answered his questions.

'Now I reallyyyy understand why Ace don't tell him anything.'

"When Rouge was pregnant with Ace, I was on the run from the government. I was caught and my execution was planned, but they didn't go through with it." He started. "Because it was unsafe, Rouge was forced to hold Ace for 20 months. Thus causing his birth to be heavily delayed. When it was time for Rouge to give birth, I broke out of the prison they kept me in."

As Roger talked, I could feel the raw hatred, and bits of Haki begin to pour out into the room. ~To be continued~

[honeymoonjin]

heavy - hoseok x reader smut

A/N: a birthday gift for the wonderful vi @jeonau 

Mafia!AU Hoseok smut. Warnings for sexually explicit content: fingering, restraints, dom!Hoseok, praise kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex. 2.9k words.

Your Hobi was stressed again. You could tell by the tension in his shoulders when you ran your hand over his back, or the way the muscles in his cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw. Of course being the head of Seoul’s most infamous gun-running empire came with a certain level of stress, but Hoseok had always seemed to take it in his stride, navigating the black market underworld with an instinctual ease.

Now, though, with the police hot on his heels, he had become less blasé and self-assured, spending more and more hours holed up in the basement of your shared home to try and minimize the time he was out in public and vulnerable. Unfortunately, the lack of sunlight and proper exercise was beginning to make him stiff and tetchy. You smoothed your palm over his Egyptian cotton-clad back as he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing at whatever the person on the other end of the phone line was saying to him.

“Reynolds doesn’t have access to the accounts, so, as suspicious as that fucker acts, I don’t think it’s him.” A slight pause as the muffled voice responded. “Well, maybe if you didn’t employ a goddamn narc in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this situation! Now, if you could please track down the man who’s put my ass on the line and deal with him, that would be great. Don’t call me again unless it’s good news. You’re wasting my fucking time.”

Without waiting for a response, Hoseok hangs up and chucks his phone lazily at his desk, sending it skidding across the thick layer of miscellaneous papers strewn over it.

You let both hands sweep over his shoulders, thumbs digging in to the knots in his back. Hoseok tips his head back with an exhausted groan. “You shouldn’t be down here,” he admonishes, though his tone is more tired than angry. “You know that the less you know, the better. I don’t want you in the line of fire, baby girl.”

You hum in response but make no effort to leave. “Perhaps I just want to make sure my husband isn’t facing the line of fire alone.”

“Mm, ‘at’s sweet of you,” he mumbles, eyebrows knitting together as you continue to work out the tension that’s deep-set in his muscles. “God, you’re the only person in this hellhole of a world I trust, you know that? Even my own team are betraying me, but you’ve stayed loyal all this time.”

“And I always will,” you promise earnestly, enjoying the way he becomes lax under your touch. “It’s you and me against the rest of the world, baby.”

Unprompted, Hoseok breaks out in a yawn, and rolls his shoulder blades back in two tight circles, breaking your hold. You let your hands hover uncertainly in the air, then drop. A sudden movement causes you to step back slightly as Hoseok spins in his leather desk chair to face you, eyes lidded. “Take a seat, baby girl.”

There’s no other chair in the basement; Hoseok is the only one who ever uses this room, but that wasn’t what he meant anyway. You wet your quickly drying lips and step forward again, stance widening around his knees until your wrists link around the back of his neck, and you’re lowering yourself daintily onto his lap. His eyes dart down to the spot between your legs as the skirt you’re wearing slips further and further up your thighs. You lean in, cheek resting on the firm plane of his chest. “I’ve missed you,” you confess into the dimly lit room, “you never come to bed anymore.”

A strong palm comes up to rest on the back of your head, cupping you against him. His chest reverberates as he speaks. “Is my baby feeling a little needy?”

You nod softly, enjoying the way the expensive cotton of his shirt slides smoothly over your skin. It was generally pretty common for the two of you to be having sex multiple times a day; normally when business was good, your husband was feeling a little more generous with his cock and his time. But you had been deprived of any action for going on two weeks now, and his simple proximity was enough to have a hot wave of need rolling around inside of you.

He chuckles out his nose at your lack of verbal response. “Do you know what? I’ve spent the past few days punishing my subordinates for their misdemeanors and disloyalty. I think it’s only fair that I reward good behavior too, don’t you think?” Again, you nod, this time more feverishly. “Mm, I thought so. And you’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?”

“Of course, Hoseokie.”

“You didn’t get yourself off alone while I’ve been busy?” You shake your head. “Did you try to?” Your face burns with shame as you remain still. Truth be told, you had spent many a lonely night with your hand between your legs, unsatisfied with how big and empty your bed felt without him in it, but you could never get there on your own. He had really ruined you for any other lovers, including yourself. Hoseok simply gives another soft chuckle, the hand buried in your hair tugging softly at the roots. “That’s okay, I’m not mad at you. Your sweet cunt was waiting for me, even if your hands weren’t. Fuck, and I’ve missed it, too.”

You shift your head so that your chin props you up and you can look him in the eyes, which are twinkling with something a little darker than amusement, and a little deeper than lust. “Will you take care of me now?” you ask quietly, voice sounding small in the large empty space of the basement.

His grip tightens on your head slightly, turning from comforting to possessive. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” You nod as best you can under his hold, and he rewards you with a devilish smile. Suddenly, the back of your head feels cold as he removes his hand and begins loosening the knot in his tie, the dark, thick fabric snapping when he tugs it off his neck. “Wrists,” he commands firmly, and you hastily rush to present them to him, side-by-side. With a knitted brow as he focuses, he slips the length of the tie between and around your wrists until they’re solidly bound together, your fingers automatically linking in with one another, clasping your hands. Once they’re complete, he hooks his finger in between them to check they’re not too tight, and then uses that same hold to pull them up, ducking his head so that your hands fall behind his back. He lets go, and untucks his arms so that they’re over the level of yours, and your wrists rest snugly around his waist.

The realization of your own immobility never fails to send a rush of heat between your legs, and you bite your lip, watching as his eyes rake languidly over your body. Finally, his gaze lowers to the sliver of your panties visible underneath the edge of your skirt. It’s risen up practically to your pelvis, and you know that if you can see some of your underwear from your position, he was probably getting an eyeful.

Playfully, almost lazily, he takes a single finger and runs a featherlight stripe up the seam of your panties. You twitch in his grip, having felt how damp the fabric was when it was pressed slightly against your folds. “Please,” you whisper out reflexively, thighs straining to open your legs wider. He smiles at the sight, and swipes your clothed core again, smile widening when you let out a whimper.

“Look at you,” he croons, “all spread out in front of me, vulnerable and open.” Another pass, this one with more pressure, and your pelvis tilts up to chase it. “Completely at my mercy.”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “I need you.”

“You’ve waited a couple weeks,” he says lightly, tone betraying the slightest edge of warning, “I would hate for you to lose your reward for being impatient now.” You swallow hard and shut your mouth, eyes pleading with him silently. The corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile. “Good.”

Hoseok sighs out deeply, running his hot palms up and down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, fingertips coming dangerously close to the seams of your panties every time. Like he’s got all the time in the world, he starts fiddling with the lace edge between your legs, nail scratching the skin ever so lightly. You try to keep your breathing steady, but you can’t stop from whining low in your throat as he stays just an inch to the left of where you really want him.

“My girl definitely is feeling needy,” he mumbles, tapping at the wet patch right over your entrance. “You’re completely soaked for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. It’s because this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re creaming yourself just for me.”

You can’t help yourself. “Please, Hoseokie, I need more.”

Wordlessly, he tucks his fingers underneath the sopping fabric and presses two fingers inside you, stopping at the first knuckle. You writhe on his lap, trying to shuffle forward to pierce yourself more on the fingers you know would feel so good seated fully inside you. “Use your words, baby. You get to pick a reward for being on your best behavior, hm?”

You give up on trying to get him to go deeper as he pulls his hand back every time you sneak forward. “I want your cock,” you confess simply, clenching around his fingertips.

He lets out a low curse, and lets his fingers sink inside you slowly, your mouth dropping open in pleasure as the knuckles of his other fingers rest snugly against your folds, preventing him from going any further. “So, you don’t want my fingers?” he asks with an air of innocent curiosity. “You don’t want me do to this?” A moan is ripped from you as he begins fingering you deeply, curling up against your g-spot with every stroke.

“Y-yes,” you gasp out, rocking your hips into the sensation.

“Oh, you do want my fingers? That’s strange, I swear just earlier you said you wanted my cock.”

“Both,” you moan, face falling onto his shoulder as your wrists tugged uselessly against his lower back, unable to draw them back around like you wanted to. “I want both, please, Hoseokie.”

He continues to finger you as you garble nonsensical moans, the sensation feeling so blissfully good after your extended lack of orgasms recently. “My sweet girl,” he coos into your ear, the soft words almost drowned out by the wet smacking resounding between your thighs, “I can never say no to you. You’ve been so good for me, so patient. Will you be a good girl for me now and cum? I want to feel you cum on my fingers before I make you cum again on my cock.”

Your thighs begin to shake as his thumb slides up to rub at your sensitive clit, and his other hand palming your ass to push you further onto him with each thrust of his fingers. “I w-will, I’m so close, Hoseokie,” you promise, burying your face into his neck and clasping at the back of his shirt with your bound hands. “Please, I need to cum.”

“Let go for me, baby. Let it all go, that’s it. That’s it,” he croons happily as you come apart on him, the pleasure only heightened by the fact that he keeps going full-speed, and you’re helpless to stop him or do anything but take it. Once your body shudders subside, your walls still periodically clamp down around him. You whine when he slips out of you, and you’re left clenching down on an unpleasant void.

“Please, can I have your cock now?” you moan into the crook of his neck, nibbling and lapping affectionately at the skin made slightly salty from exertion.

He groans at the sensation. “Does my girl want me to fuck her now?”

“Mhm.”

Hoseok hums in affirmation, one palm slipping under your skirt to cup your ass, the other deftly unbuttoning his slacks. “Can’t wait to feel your pretty pussy around my cock, baby girl, I’ve missed it.” His hand dips into his pants and pulls his cock out, Hoseok tipping his head back with a sigh as it’s finally released. He smears the precum lazily with his thumb, looking down at you with lidded eyes. “Do you see how much I’ve missed your sweet cunt?”

You bite your lip as you look down. It’s not a word you’d usually use to describe the appendage dangling between a man’s legs, but Hoseok’s dick is truly a beautiful specimen. Average in length, and only a little girthier than most, the beauty comes in the graceful curve that appears when he’s hard, an arc up to his stomach, so that the tip would graze the taut skin of his abdomen, just below his belly button. It was mostly smooth, and as bronzed as the rest of him, although it darkened as blood rushed to it, like now.

Getting impatient, you rock your hips towards his cock, the friction from the wet fabric of your panties causing him to groan your name. “Hoseokie. I need you now.”

“Come on then, baby,” he mutters sweetly into your ear, “open wide.” And with a single, strong arm, he’s lifting you up and using his other hand to line up his cock with your entrance, pushing the sopping fabric aside with his head, and letting you impale yourself on him.

Normally, the stretch is very bearable, especially after fingering you like he almost always did, but it had been too long that you had gone empty and feeling him inside you again had your toes curling, even as he let you stay still on his cock to adjust. “Hobi,” you whimper into his chest, unable to use your hands to prop yourself up. You feel the pressure of his chin on the crown of your head.

“You feel so fucking tight around me, baby girl. That pretty pink pussy of yours was made for me. God, it’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.”

You keen and clamp down on him at the praise, and he curses, the sound muffled in your hair. Unable to get any leverage to ride him with your hands bound behind his back, you wait for him to drop his hands to your hips, and slowly pull you off of him, the drag inside you pulling another moan from deep in your throat. He stops once only his head is snug inside you and holds you firm.

Instead of making you ride him, he plants his feet on the ground and begins thrusting up into you. With every stroke, his skin smacks against yours audibly and with the angle, his cock rubs slightly against the bottom of your clit every time he moves. “Oh, god, Hoseok, feels so good with you in me,” you pant.

“Yeah?” Hoseok questions through gritted teeth, voice stiff with exertion. “You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.”

“Me neither,” you assure, “just please don’t stop, Hoseokie. I need it harder.”

With a groan that comes out more like a growl, Hoseok begins slamming your hips back down every time he fucks up into you, burying himself deeper inside you than before. You can feel him strike your cervix wall on particularly strong thrusts, and the pressure feels so good that you can’t help but let your mouth fall open, drooling onto his shirt lightly as he forces your hips down onto his cock harder and harder, until you’re panting desperately, hanging off an orgasm by a thread. “Hobi, I’m close,” you confess.

“Fuck, I’m cu- ah! Yes, fuck, yes,” Hoseok chants, thrusting once, a second time, then holding you right to his pelvis as he cums. You squeeze down on him to help him through it, and the pressure it puts on your g-spot, combined with the feeling of him spilling inside you, has you falling over the edge into your second orgasm, shuddering violently on top of him as he slowly grinds his way through his orgasm.

When you both finish up, he makes no effort to pull out, simply putting your arms back over his head and untying you, massaging your wrists gently for you to make sure circulation returned.

“I love you so much, you know that?” he mumbles into your hair as you snuggle up to his chest. He’s starting to soften, but you don’t want to lose the connection, and he seems happy enough for you to stay on his lap as he’s buried inside you. “I’m sorry I haven’t been taking care of you enough. It’s just that work’s got me totally strung out, and I want to make sure-”

You shush him, reaching down a hand to interlink with his. “It’s okay,” you promise, “I’m with you now, let’s just enjoy this, okay?”

His fingers tighten around yours. “Okay.”

[ua-scarfboy]

Headache

Pair: Shouta Aizawa x Gender Neutral!Reader 

Synopsis: Shouta is sick and has asked you to be the substitute teacher for Class 1A. When you get home, you let him know just how your day went with the group of oddball students. 

Rating: G

Words: 1182

Warning(s): None

As you walked through the front door of your apartment, you couldn't help but turn your attention towards the sound of the television coming from the living room. After a hard day of teaching, you wanted nothing more than to relax on the couch with your boyfriend. Upon entering the living room, you saw Aizawa resting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and your black cat resting in his lap. A box of half-used tissues rested on the coffee table next to a bottle of aspirin.

When you walked into the living room, Aizawa turned his attention to you. It was evident by how pale his skin was that he still wasn’t feeling good. That morning, when the two of you woke up, he had been feeling sick and asked if you could be his substitute for the day. Wanting to make sure he got some rest, you agreed. What you didn’t anticipate, however, was the headache that came with teaching Class 1A, something you had never thought to ask Shouta about before agreeing.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a deep, hoarse voice. “How was the class today?”

You let your work bag drop beside you as you stepped closer to him. “Do you have any idea what goes through your students’ minds?” You asked.

Aizawa raised a brow. “No,” he said.

You shook your head as you made your way over to him. “I swear, having a mind-reading quirk can be fun at times, but I never thought that fifteen-year-old children could be thinking so many different things all at once.”

Reaching down, you picked up your cat from Aizawa’s lap and set her down on the spot next to him on the couch. You then took her spot, sitting down in his lap and nuzzling against him. You wrapped your arms around his torso. He sighed heavily and held his arms up.

“(Y/N), I don’t want you to get sick.”

"I don't care about that," you waved him off. "Oh my god, who should I start with?"

Aizawa lowered his arms, slowly, so that they were draped around your body. He tilted his head to the side, prepared to listen.

"I'll start with Izuku Midoriya," you began. "He would not stop mumbling throughout the entire class. Does he always mumble like that?" After a nod from Aizawa, you continued. "Yeah, well, I had to tell him about ten times to keep the mumbling to a minimum, and when he was done with that, he had a full-blown monologue in his head. It was practically essay material! If he wrote it out and turned it in, I would have given him a passing grade right then-and-there.

"That Kaminari kid, Denki, is it? I swear that kid has nothing going through his head but static electricity and the Spongebob theme song on repeat. Repeat! I had it stuck in my head for ninety percent of the day because that's all I could hear from him. Not a single thing about learning."

As you continued to talk, you began to rub your temples.

“Katsuki Bakugo, I swear, that child has an extensive vocabulary, but not the good kind. It only centered around curse words, half of which I didn’t even know. I had to look them up after class and I feel dirty after doing so.

"Oh, and then the number of text messages that Shoto Todoroki was getting from his father was just hilarious. He didn't even respond to any of them. He just opened his phone, read them in his head, mentally said some pretty nasty remarks, and then put his phone away. I didn't even bother telling him that he shouldn’t have his phone out in class.

“Hanta Sero only had thoughts in Spanish. Spanish words and Spanish music was all that was going through this kid’s head. I had no idea what to think of it.

"Oh, and don't even get me started with Mineta. I can't even count on one hand the number of times I wanted to deck him for the perverted thoughts that he thought about his classmates. And the things that he was thinking about Midnight after they got back from her class…I felt like I needed to pour bleach in my ears.

“And then Kirishima, my God, him and Iida both. Iida kept trying to control the class if things got out of hand, and, during those times, Kirishima would chime in and say ‘yeah, that’s not very manly of you guys. Just because we have a sub, doesn’t mean we should act any different’. Then, once the chaos died down, Iida went back to thinking of the lesson, while Kirishima kept thinking about how manly he is.

"All of the other kids were fine! They treated me with such respect, so I can see why you're constantly stressed out all the time while simultaneously tolerating them. They're a great group of kids, but I think that you can control them a lot better than I can."

When you were done with your spiel, he chuckled. What you just described to him definitely sounded like his kids. He lightly rubbed your back.

“So, they didn’t give you a hard time?” He questioned.

You shook your head. "Not any more of a hard time than a normal class would give." Smiling, you looked up at him. "Are you feeling any better than this morning?"

“Not even in the slightest.”

You pouted. “Damn. Well, I guess I’ll be subbing for you tomorrow as well.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can get someone else to take over.”

"Nonsense," you said. "As I said, overall, they were a respectful group of kids. There were little hiccups here and there, but what class doesn’t have those moments?” You shrugged your shoulders before moving from his lap and standing up. “Now, I’m going to go run you a hot bath and make you some tea. We can see if that’ll help you get better.”

Aizawa sat up slightly. “You don't have to do that for me."

"I don't have to, no, but I want to. I hate seeing you so sick."

Giving him a small smile, you reached over to him and pressed a kiss against his temple. Pulling back, you could see his pale cheeks flush pink.

“Go ahead and get ready and I’ll get everything set up.” You told him.

Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck, looking away and then back at you. “Thanks…” he trailed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sho.” You replied before you walked away to run his bath.

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[almasexya]

Gamera is Really Neat! Gamera is Full of Meat! (Gamera vs. Gyaos, 1967)

As the story goes, after the previous film in the Gamera series, Gamera vs. Barugon, Daiei had a problem. From what I’ve been able to piece together, the target audience (that is, preteen boys) ran amok during the boring bits where adults were talking about adult things. Clearly something had to change - and Daiei acted with surgical precision. They took the team from their hit Daimajin series and got them to work on Gamera.

Wait, who am I kidding? That didn’t happen, but what did was almost entirely predictable: They put Noriaki Yuasa back into the director’s chair, with Niisan Takahashi penning the script, and this dynamic duo would helm the series up until the 1980s when Daiei went belly up.

Remember back in the Gamera vs. Barugon review where I mentioned that by the first sequel, the Gamera series more or less had its formula in place for future installments? Well team, we’re there. Gamera vs. Gyaos is a lot of things, but honestly at this point in the series the plots, whatever the hell they even are, just kind of write themselves.

Anyway, the film starts off with a whole bunch of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions that baffle scientists and reporters throughout Japan. Before we have a chance to let that whole situation breathe, we’re introduced to the real protagonist of the story, a young boy named Eichi (Naoyuki Abe) who lives in a village near Mt. Fuji where the movie’s B plot is getting going.

Kaiju film B plots are nearly always filler designed to kill time between guys in rubber suits beating the hell out of each other, but the good ones at least understand things like emotion and pacing, while the bad ones just plod along endlessly, repeating the same scenes so obviously that you can almost hear the director’s sigh of relief when the big monster shows up on screen.

Anyway, the B plot here involves a big corporation (literally called the Road Corporation in the cut I watched, which kind of hurts your buy-in a little) trying to buy up the land in a small village so they can continue their big highway project. Mt. Fuji is erupting and all, but we can’t stop progress!

Normally you might expect the big corporation to be up to no good, maybe trying to scare the villagers or trick them into bum deals, but nope, not at all what’s going on here, as the foreman on duty is a certified Nice Guy who refuses to take the low road in any kind of circumstance - meaning that the only real conflict here comes from the villagers, who are trying to hold out for a better deal.

I’ve already written more on this B-plot than I think the movie even cares about it, considering it doesn’t waste much time bringing up strange glowing green lights that shoot cheesy-looking lasers and blow up research helicopters. Before long Eichi and a conniving reporter character find out what’s doing the shooting - a giant bat like creature with a head like an anvil and nasty glowing eyes. The reporter gets eaten almost immediately, but Gamera shows up in time to save Eichi, and then promptly gets his butt kicked by the new monster before spiriting Eichi away to safety.

The next scene, in what can only be described as a comedy smash cut, shows Eichi at the head of a giant briefing table staffed full of sagely officials and scientists, while he chirps away that the monster, which he named Gyaos, for a reason no one elaborates on, is a big evil monster, while Gamera is good!

If this sounds familiar, that’s because it is. Though he’s nowhere near as bad as the little twerp from the first Gamera film, Eichi fills more or less the same role here, despite how often the film decides to inexplicably cut back to people moaning about land negotiations while there’s a giant monster grudge match going on.

Even so, it’s hard to call Gamera vs. Gyaos boring, especially when the monster fighting kicks in and the humans start concocting increasingly ludicrous plans to stop it. The monster battles follow the same general format from the preceding entry in the series, with Gamera being sorely outmatched, getting his shell kicked all over town, and then finally coming in with a clinch victory in the final few minutes.

Gyaos feels like a great Gamera opponent, an evil vampire bat that loves blood, only comes out at night, and can regenerate lost limbs (in one particularly violent scene, Gamera literally bites Gyaos’ toes off). As before, the fights are bloody and brutal - what the Gamera films lack in choreography and direction, they try to make up for with buckets of green monster blood that gush out in aggressive arterial sprays. Gyaos’ design, while retaining that cheap, chintzy feeling all the Gamera suits have, is simple and imposing enough that it works, without being so busy that it’s distracting. Gamera looks the same as he ever did, to the point where I have to assume it’s the same suit from the last two films, considering the amount of variation in Godzilla’s design.

The fights themselves mainly involve laser shooting, and when they don’t the monsters just kind of slam into each other until somebody either leaves or dies. This is pretty par for the course for Gamera, and the direction is fairly bland, mostly just concerned with putting the action in front of the camera without much thought paid to how it actually looks. That said, the brutality on display somewhat makes up for the lack of vision, though it can’t help but feel somewhat hollow, a cheap parlor trick designed to keep the kids’ asses in their seats.

Gamera vs. Gyaos is a thrill ride of weaponized nonsense that, especially when compared to what’s coming, is about as good as the kiddie-oriented films in the series get. Despite how hard the film tries to downplay them, the film feels like it has stakes, and there are moments where it actually looks like our preteen hero is in danger, which is more than I can say for what’s ahead. Considering how well the Gyaos are used in the 90s Gamera trilogy, this one is worth checking out if you’re interested in Gamera’s roots, though a casual fan should probably stick with Godzilla.

[arthurjdrake]

Final Steps

PARTIES: Arthur & @eldonash

PLACE: Drake residence

TIMING: Prior to Carrington’s discovery.

SUMMARY: In search of clarity into the mysterious ways of the pie, Orobas makes a trip to the Drake residence in search of assistance and just so happens to make a new acquaintance in the process. 

Orobas pressed his face into the window of a particular house, causing a defined smudge on the pane of glass. It was pretty early in the night, he had actually darted around the city during those strange, ‘blinks’ of darkness that happened now, lucky for him. He made it here without major injury because of it. Though the slightest burns on his hands and cheeks weren’t predominate, they did ache a little for spending hours out. Now the moon was up, and he stared in the window believing this was the correct place. In his hand was a wicker basket filled with all the supplies, and Orobas-- he was determined to speak to this Arthur person for two very important reasons. One; pie help. Since it was his pie Orobas had to make for Lydia. Two: Arthur knew Carrington, and he had to know if he was here. When he saw he was in there he quickly walked around and knocked on the door.

All in all the evening had been relatively quiet. The tortoises were fed and the vivarium cleaned out, dinner was done and it left Arthur with some time to himself. He was in the process of putting on a documentary when a knock at the door caused him to frown, check his watch and pause the intro. “Weird time for cold callers,” he murmured as he padded over to the door and pulled it open to look at the man that stood outside. “Uh, hey- can I help you?”

“Evening,” Orobas recognized him as the right person, and relief actually settled strangely in the hallow points of his dead body. Carrington would befriend someone like Arthur, if by looks alone, their gentle features, and sleepy disposition was something easy to enjoy. “Is Carrington with you?” He blurted out without any filter, surprising himself when he had wanted to say, ‘will you help me make your pie’. Orobas’ dead muscles in his face gave nothing away to the clear mental crosswire of thoughts and with the picnic basket in hand simply continued. “I’m Eldon,” he offered, voice calm and with the softest tone that made it almost sweet to the ears. “I haven’t seen him in days. He’s not posting on social media. Is he with you?”

Arthur was half expecting someone else to be selling off eyeballs, it wasn’t the first person to come cold calling in the last week - everyone seemed to be out to profit. What he wasn’t expecting was for a man to introduce himself and promptly ask after someone he hadn’t admittedly seen in a while. A frown marred the warm expression that had previously been on his features. “Cari?” the nickname betrayed his fondness for the man, “no… I sent him a message the other day but I didn’t hear back.” Which was strange considering the man always seemed to respond rather promptly when he did message. “Arthur…” he introduced but the frown remained, “uh, come in. But no, he’s not here admittedly I haven’t seen him in a few weeks… When was the last time you spoke to him?”

The only time Orobas felt a shiver was when anyone gave him permission to enter their house. He savored it, even if feeding and domineering wasn’t on his mind tonight, and stepped through the front door with a gentle elegance. “Me either. I’ve actually come to also inquire about your pie that won second place,” gesturing to the basket which he set on the floor. “But, it seems Carrington is taking over my thoughts for four night in a row now. I have looked all over White Crest. In every little nook and cranny. I was hoping he was with someone, maybe stepping away for a small vacation, but you were the only person I believed he’d be with based off his social media and you say no as well.” Orobas clenched his fist lightly, “Something happened then--”

“My pie? Uh, sure - what about it?” Something about the way this man moved - effortlessly graceful like a predator yet without the intent reminded Arthur of Carrington. “Are you part of a clan or?” it seemed the most logical reasoning as to why this man that he suspected was like Carrington would be looking for him. The concern seemed genuine and in that regard it made Arthur a little less cautious than he might otherwise have been. “That would make sense, but he’d answer if he was going away wouldn’t he? He doesn’t strike me as the type to vanish…” which meant something had to have gone wrong. “You wouldn’t happen to know any witches would you? Maybe one of them could perform a tracking spell on him?” He couldn’t say whether it would work, but he wasn’t sure how else they might find him.

The pie seemed so unimportant right now, which, it technically wasn’t, he was promise bound to make this pie perfect, and he really wanted Arthur to taste the one he made to be sure it was exactly to a tee, how he made it. But Carrington was on his mind, has been for days on end, and he wasn’t any closer to finding him. “I actually just needed you to taste it and be sure its one hundred percent how you made it, taste, look everything.” Orobas opened the small basket and pulled out two pies, setting them on the counter in the kitchen. “We are at the beginning of a friendship actually. When I met him I felt like the universe had decided to place us together for a reason. Poetic I know, but I’m not often caught off guard by such a connection right away, it’s very rare. I am not quite ready to say goodbye.” Orobas tucked his palms together and behind his back. Standing still, without breath even with his clear distress, it was difficult to decipher on his unmoving muscles. “I’m reluctant to involve other species in our business if I am honest. People love favors, and having you owe them in ways you might not pick up on. I’m--” he frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure what to do. Perhaps, I’ll have a group go door to door and ask-- well, ask nicely.”

“Taste it? Oh, well sure I can do that.” Considering the time, Arthur wasn’t really sure if he was in the mood for making pie but he’d never turn down an opportunity to try some. “Who asked you to make mine anyway?” it was a curious request, and didn’t really make sense in his mind unless someone really wanted to try his pie… He’d happily make another if they wanted it. Still, talk revolved around Carrington and a wash of ice settled in his bones, the bottomless pit of uncertainty opening up regarding his friend’s welfare, a far more pressing concern. “Sometimes you just meet people like that, he’s quite an alluring individual.” Unfortunately, if normal methods didn’t work sometimes you had to resort to unfavourable acts to achieve your ends. “And if that doesn’t work?” he questioned “I’d rather expedite the process if possible and if it’s in their wheelhouse of skill I don’t mind owing a favour… I know a couple of witches.” He’d make a point to reach out in the morning.

Orobas pulled a knife from the block and carefully sliced one of the two pies. “It’s important that it looks exactly right and tastes exactly the same, please tell me..” Was all he said on it. The idea of involving witches in the past would have excited him. Orobas loved magic, he found it extremely interesting and the unsavory people who used it for their own benefits earned quite an enjoyment filled emotion from the old vampire. But for some reason, knowing that such a spell existed, and could possibly find them so easily made Orobas question that power and the invasiveness to their privacy. “Mhm,” Orobas’ eyes burned red subtly as he pondered, not realizing that he was just staring off without blinking, and stone still while he did it. “Okay,” he finally answered after an awkward stretch of time. “Have them give me the closest area, and I’ll go get him. If hes to ashes I imagine that it wouldn’t tell us that.”

Arthur stood by and watched Orobas cut the slice of pie, moving to fetch a plate from one of the cupboards and slide it over so the slice could be put on it. “Was it the sweet one you were trying to make?” he asked but judging from the decorations he figured it probably was but it didn’t hurt to ask just in case. “What recipe were you working to?“ he hadn’t published it anywhere so how Orobas or anyone else for that matter would even knew what it should taste like was a little bit of a curiosity in Arthur’s mind. The silence stretched on while Orobas considered the options but the more he pondered it, Arthur couldn’t see any other possibility if they wanted to find Carrington. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m not sure the spell would work if he is ashes… But here’s hoping he isn’t.”

“Weeks of trial and error. I found one of the judges and questioned them, mhm, I’m sure it’s wrong. At this point, that is the nonsense side of it. It’s taken me some time to find you,” he shrugged. “But I do need it perfect. So any help to it will be greatly appreciated or if you can point out what’s wrong. The recipe we’re roughly using is in the basket based on what the judge suggested.” Orobas wasn’t normally so bland with this type of conversation, but this week has been exhausting for him. He left the pie and the basket on the counter, settling on pacing lightly in the kitchen. “If you do, do this. I will only be able to give it tonight. Then-- well. Then other avenues will happen. Which is fine, both should transpire anyway. Have you experienced this before? Someone disappearing like this? You seem calm about it. Has Carrington done this before?”

“I see, and I’m curious - who put you up to this uh… nonsense?” It was easier to use Orobas’ own words than to try and come up with something else, clearly there was a separate instigator but Arthur couldn’t claim to have any idea who it might be or their reason for wanting his pie. “Well, the patterning isn’t bad on the crust” he admitted as he eyed the top though several lines were wonky. “Hm,” he used a fork to cut off a piece before testing it, his features growing thoughtful “it’s not bad but there’s something missing… Honey? Maybe some lemon… Hm.” Moving to the fridge Arthur pulled out a couple of boxes of berries he always kept stocked considering his habit to snack on them at all times. He spoke while he sifted through for the things he used and once he had them moved over to the hob. “Is there a reason for that?” he inquired looking over to Orobas wondering why there might be a timeframe all of a sudden. “Plenty of times, unfortunately I find panic only serves to further fog an already misty situation, a calm head often finds more answers” he admitted. “But Carrington? Not in the time I’ve known him no.”

“Mhm, someone,” Orobas smirked. “They can have their fun. I believe they thought your pie was the hardest on the winners list. Which, probably, yes it seems so. Challenge me with something I probably can’t do since I don’t eat nor taste.” He rolled his eyes. Lydia Griffin and her games, so delightful and worth it when it’s his turn. Orobas didn’t often give all his hands out but Arthur wasn’t a threatening person. “I have intel he was in a fight.” Orobas’ words were haunting in sound, his eyes distant again. “I’m not going to play around with my words and assume you can understand. But such a fight usually leaves us injured beyond your imagination. It’s never an easy thing, not once. I’ve been cut in half, barely able to stand in the past from such moments. If he is alive, and he passed out from the injury, urgency comes from making sure he can feed or he will be stuck. Or worse, if he’s in a place that can have him caught in the sun. I've seen such things as well. Staking us just right so we get to watch the sunrise.” Orobas glanced over. “I don’t trust the outcomes. Never have. I have to find him swiftly. I have the means to do it. It does get messy, but it will work. Oh, how I had hoped he was lounging on your couch.”

“I see.” Arthur didn’t really see, but if this person wanted to put someone through the ordeal of making his pie the least he could try and do was help ease the struggle. “That’s fair enough, well, how about I make the filling - the actual pie itself you’ve got pretty down I’d say. So I think it’s just a matter of fixing the filling and you’d be in a good place.” He wasn’t sure that he’d be much help when it came to hunting down Carrington, “but if he’s been gone as long as he has… Then surely that would’ve happened by now?” But either outcome wasn’t positive, he worried his lip. “I’d rather find him with as little bloodshed as possible. Let me see what I can do.”

“Okay,” Orobas didn’t concede often, but with the pie, he had too. Which could have been the entire reason why he was tasked with it. “Thank you.” Orobas leaned against the counter to watch and help, he had to get this pie done eventually, and even with all present concerns this wouldn’t go away either. “Maybe. Carrington is stubborn and old, we can endure it for a bit. But it’s painful.” At the final comment Orobas glanced over, watching the other closely, and the gentle worry to his lips. “Mhm, I give such a vibe?” There was an inquiry in there but it didn’t translate well with his dead expression and unblinking eyes. “We’ll see... tell me Arthur, what would you do for someone you felt bound too? How far have you taken something?”

“No worries,” Arthur started setting out three bowls before instructing “fill each one of those with berries, one of each kind.” In the meantime, he went to fetch a saucer from the cabinet which he set on the gas to heat up. It wouldn’t take too long to finish up with the two of them working on it. “Perhaps. Something gives me the impression he’s survived worse though,” he couldn’t say what exactly, but something about him struck Arthur as a survivor of worse odds. “Not you specifically - your choice of wording though. Messy implies risks being taken that I’d rather not see come to pass.” There was a moment of silence that followed, “we’re not talking about me. You’re the one intent on finding him,” an evasive answer of choice. In all honesty, Arthur didn’t want to open up that can of worms, the truth of it making for an uncomfortable reality he didn’t wish to delve into too deeply especially with a stranger. There were lengths and darkness he’d succumbed to long ago that were not things that warranted further conversation.

Orobas chuckled at the evasive answer, and didn’t mind in the least. He was known to enjoy asking those uncomfortable questions and getting some form of answer even without them answering it directly. Everyone had a line with certain people, where the consequences of actions didn’t matter anymore. Had Carrington put himself on that side already with Orobas? Perhaps. Orobas walked over to stand by the Arthur’s side, determined to remember everything. Already seeing where they went wrong, but in the grand sense it was probably best he had handled it all this way. Never having made anything like this before, human food foreign to him for centuries. Messing up a lot for the passing weeks got a lot of the basics out of the way, and currently allowed him to understand these steps clearly. “Have you ever won a contest before?”

Arthur had made his choices in life, that didn’t mean he was planning to discuss them with a stranger. So he opted instead to direct attention to the filling of the pie. “So what you need to do is put all of the in a large saucepan - heat them up until they start to burst and get their juices out of them” he explained turning the gas on and gesturing for Orobas to add the berries. Once they’d gotten past that step, Arthur took a hand mixer with whisks attacked and plugged it into the power. “Then you blend it to smooth it out,” he instructed. Baking wasn’t hard so long as you could get the right measure of ingredients together in a bowl. “A contest? Sure. A cooking contest? This would be my first… Cooking contests weren’t really a thing people do back home. Have you?”

“My blood dolls made a pie for Walter and TaeTae-- they are my pet watermelon vampires and live in my garden,” he further explained as if that entire sentence made perfect sense. He took his phone out and typed quickly what Arthur was saying so he could show the dolls later and they could help him with it more. “I heard they submitted it for me, but I didn’t actually make anything food related until the request to make your pie.” Orobas shook his head, no, to the inquiry of winning a contest. “I’ve never cared about such things. I still don’t actually-- I am quite simple in my life. Lately, however, everyone is in need of me. It’s a very different thing-- worrying about others.” He compared what Arthur had in his bowl to previous pictures in his phone when they were baking and noticed the details missing. Good. If he could just get this done, it would be one more thing off his mind. “Thank you for this. How long did you cook it for?”

Arthur quelled the look of distaste that almost made it to his features at the mention of blood-dolls. He’d never understood the concept nor did he rightly agree with it, but he wasn’t typically the sort to voice such displeasure aloud; preferring to internalise and process it after the fact. “Do you have any idea where watermelon vampires originated? I’ve always wondered…” Arthur mused as they continued to work sieving the berries into another bowl and adding the lemon juice “next we make a bain-marie, melt the butter and sugar in that.” While the ingredients cooked through he took the time to study Orobas a little more closely, “it’s taxing, but the end result of keeping people safe is what matters in the grand scheme of things. That’s all the reward you really need in life,” it just sucked when it didn’t go to plan. “All good, and you blind-bake the crust first for about fifteen minutes then put the filling in and the lid on top. So in total about forty-five minutes in the oven should get you the result you’re after.”

“I don’t, but they are delightful. A good friend of mine gave me one from the market,” Orobas made a few more notes, making sure he didn’t miss any small thing Arthur added. ‘Keeping people safe’ Arthur suddenly spoke, and Orobas internally felt nothing over such a sentence. What did it even mean to him? How did that apply to this part of his life and existence now? He’s never had to worry about anyone or anything. Why now, was it that he felt those he wanted to be safe-- weren’t? Was he not strong enough to protect them? “Hm,” was all he could say on it. Maybe he couldn’t being this version of himself. “Alright,” he finished taking it down, and sent the text document to one of his dolls to get them to start pulling the correct ingredients. “I must leave, now,” he glanced up at Arthur, putting his phone away and tucking his hands behind his back with a gentle squaring of his shoulders. “I will be sure to repay you properly. I appreciate your assistance. Should you need me for anything, I will try to make myself available to you in the future.” He set a business card on the table with the name Eldon Ash on it and his cell number.

“Hm,” was a similar response Arthur gave regarding the watermelon vampires. They were curious things and he wanted to learn more about them. Perhaps he’d ask Orobas to study his … pets? “Wait,” he said when Orobas mentioned leaving holding up a hand. Taking the mixture off the hob he poured it into a mason jar and popped the lid closed. “Here” he offered the glass jar for the vampire to take, “it’ll save you having to make it yourself, then all you need to do is remake the pastry and you’ll have the pie sorted...“ But the favour, well, he’d take one of those any day of the week. “Alright, hopefully I won’t need to take you up on that but I appreciate the offer regardless.”

[subukunojess]

On The Edge of Living (Ch 1)

Archive of Our Own / DeviantArt / FanFiction

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical

Word Count: 5,511

Content Warnings/Awareness: Death, Blood, Possible Gore, Mentions of Abuse, Smoking, Suicidal Themes, Giant, Tiny, G/T, People, objects, and animals are getting eaten, Vore (don’t know whether to tag it as such), Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Found Family, Friendship, just everything is wild.

Pairings: Charles/Delia, Past Charles/Emily, hints of Beetlelands, hints of Lydia/OC

Summary: AU. Lydia Deetz knew her life would turn upside down when she moved to a supposed haunted house with her father and life coach. What she didn’t expect were two actual ghosts living in her attic or being cursed to be bound to a demon sealed in some ancient spell book.With a growing emotional demon by her side and the afterlife betting on their future, Lydia will travel from Hell and back to break the curse and find out where she belongs… if her new town doesn’t end up being rampaged first.

Here’s my entry for the Beetlejuice Big Bang!

This was a surprise project I decided to take on when I saw it on my dash and I wanted to challenge myself writing with word count in mind. I knew I wanted to write a Beetlejuice AU with a tiny Lydia and a giant Beetlejuice, so I worked from there. I also wanted to challenge myself by planning and organizing my story ahead rather than take it chapter by chapter. Although it’s been difficult, I managed to pass the required 10 K mark and plan out the gist of my story. As of now, I have the chapters figure out and I have at least 20 K, but at the moment I have three completed chapters. I hope to work on the fic during my free time. 

Thank you, @beetlejuicebigbang for giving me the opportunity to do this! Without further delay, here’s the first chapter of my fic:

Chapter 1: The Curse Begins

In life, people say that only death is certain. For the afterlife? Eternity, any suffering of some kind, and the places the dead end up. Depending on the soul and the circumstances of someone's death, a person could be sent to a variety of realms. There were different versions of Heaven, Hell, Limbo, and in some cases, a holiday world. This tale in particular resides in the living realm, Hell, and the Netherworld.

There were two major details that the living didn't know about the afterlife. The first one was that the Netherworld was like a creepy airport for the recently deceased, only that it was really a dark abyss that led to who knows where with no way of telling where anyone would end up.

The second thing? Demons are really huge compared to humans, dead or alive. In the living realm, they blended with humans physically to make situations easier. But in Hell? A demon's true height could range between seven feet to hundreds of feet tall. And Hell wasn't just a cavern of fire and brimstone either. It was the dark, grimy underworld of a city where slum lords lurked in the alleys and the air was polluted with a fiery, red haze. It was nine circles of everlasting torture ruled by cardinal sins and vices. And for a certain demon who spent most of her afterlife in the Netherworld, it was an empty and bleak waiting room in a large office building with the walls decaying and the air smelling of burnt socks.

Juno Shoggoth scowled as her heels clacked against the tiles of the hallway, walking to the waiting room while trying not to hunch over as usual. Once she had signed in with the receptionist, she took her seat and briefly pulled the cigarette out from her lips, letting the smoke ooze out from the slit on her neck.

"Why did he have to call a meeting now of all times?" Juno hissed, crossing her legs. "Doesn't he know my work schedule in general?"

As director of Netherworld Customs and Processing, it was her job to make sure that the transition from life to the afterlife went smoothly for the dead. Sure, the work was tedious and the woman would rather smoke for eternity than deal with tiny annoyances, but she was assigned to the position not by choice. She literally and figuratively grew from a civil servant spirit to a powerful demon overnight; one of her proudest achievements she had to admit.

Her biggest mistake was Lawrence.

Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth. Just thinking about his name made her blow another smoke ring and want a shot of alcohol. Like most other demons who were born dead rather than turned into one, Betelgeuse appeared after Juno had affairs with a demon and the demon left. She didn't like children to begin with, let alone raising something that acted like one. Regardless, she didn't have a choice either when a dead-born was involved. Dead-borns were powerful shifters with abilities no one dared imagine and capable of changing their size more smoothly than regular demons, hence the curses placed on them and the mandatory supervision. If every realm in existence turned upside down and the blame traced back to Juno, she would never hear the end of it.

"Lucifer is ready for you now, Miss Juno!" The receptionist's shrill, but deep shriek interrupted her train of thought.

"It's about damn time." Juno muttered under her breath as she threw her cigarette away and stood up. A red line of energy was drawn in front of the demon out of nowhere before splitting in two and opening as a doorway to Lucifer's office. She walked through the portal, the line disappearing as soon as she entered the room. Although she got used to the afterlife, Juno would admit that she didn't know whether it was a relief or unnerving that the room was a typical office one would expect a boss to reside in with a chair and desk, save for the hazy landscape of hell on the other side of the window in front of her. At this point, she didn't even bother wondering.

"Have a seat, Juno." A deep, gruff voice commanded from a leather swivel chair in a calm tone, causing a slight echo in the room. Juno sat on the wooden chair without fanfare, glaring at the window.

The ruler of Hell was arguably the most massive demon ever known, probably rivaled by Leviathan if they got into a mood. Big horns? Monstrous? Usually dwelled at the very bottom of Hell? Most of the rumors were true along with the fact that everybody knew not to mess with him unless they had a wish worse than death. Despite such knowledge, Lucifer appeared from the swivel chair on the other side of the desk, much smaller than normal and dressed for business. A simple black suit and dark red tie with golden cuff links. Dark grey medium length hair with large twisted horns of ivory adorned on top of it. Yellow eyes with pupils akin to a goat's narrowed as he fixed his collar and cleared his throat.

"I have a feeling you know the reason why I called you here." Lucifer stated, raising an eyebrow. Juno returned the action.

"You usually don't call me unless A) you’re redesigning the Netherworld in some way or B) Beetlejuice is involved. Something tells me it's the latter."

"Come on, Juno. Don't sound like I keep calling you because of that! You're a good worker. No nonsense. Telling it like it is while sorting out the souls. You're one of the few demons I could tolerate." When Juno didn't respond, the ruler of Hell continued.

"I just wanted to discuss what our plans are for Lawrence in the future, that's all." Lucifer shrugged. "Just to prevent repeated offenses from happening. Despite his... flaws, your son still has potential. Deceit. Torture. Power that some dead-borns don't have. I wanted him to become an official exorcist demon, but you insisted on having him as a Netherworld guide instead, even though he hasn't done it properly in centuries!" He brought a fist down onto the desk, the whole room seeming to tremble at the action.

"With all due respect, sir, we cannot give any more power and ego than the fool believes he has." Juno hissed as she pinched the bridge of her nose briefly. "If we do, both the Netherworld and Hell would be in shambles. And I believe you just want him to annoy one of your own headaches."

At that, both demons glared at each other and crossed their arms as they leaned forward. They stared at each other down for a while until Lucifer pulled back up with a sigh.

"... You're smarter than I thought." Ignoring the woman's tiny smirk of victory, Lucifer turned his back to her as he stared at the hazy city before him.

"You're not wrong. You got Lawrence and the Recently Deceased, I got the souls of the damned and the other cardinal leaders bothering me. Beelzebub especially. Always gloating that he's more powerful and mainstream than the rest. I figured that if he's with someone just as annoying as him, he'll settle down and we both get them out of our businesses for at least a decade or two. Maybe a century if we're lucky."

Juno scoffed. "That's going to be a problem since I banished mine to the world of the living."

"And how's that going for you?" Lucifer glanced back at the director, almost knowingly. "Knowing him, he'll find a way back to the dead. He always does."

“I can assure you that Lawrence is stuck at the surface with the living and suffering for it.”

Meanwhile in one of the several downtown areas of Hell, something was going down on one of the top floors of a ten-floor apartment.

In front of the building was a black Mercedes Benz with a fly painted on the hood, idle as the driver waited for someone. Inside the car, black sharp nails drummed against the wheel at a scattered and quick pace while the owner of said nails exhaled a buzzing breath.

“Why is he taking so long? There won't be much time left!” The driver growled in a high baritone voice that sounded as if it were melting like butter. His unruly, spiky orange hair seemed to hover over his pointed ears as his bright orange eyes narrowed at nothing specific on the street. He was tall, had dark tan skin, and a bit chubby around the edges with a pot belly held back by a sleeveless maroon shirt and ripped black jeans. The large fly wings on his back hummed against the seat, almost impatient. It was supposed to be a quick stop of supplies and nothing else. What was going on in there?

Just then, there were some muffled shouts until someone burst out through the front door lugging an overfilled burlap sack over their shoulder. The demon was a bit more than five and a half feet tall with golden eyes, pale skin, and wild green hair along with some yellow strands popping out. They wore a dusty dark grey coat over their black and white striped suit and green tie.

They then exclaimed in a masculine, gravelly voice as they scrambled into the front passenger seat, "Step on it, Bee!"

"It's about time!" The orange-haired demon groaned in relief as he slammed the accelerator and the car sped off, causing the other to almost fly out to the backseat, but he held on.

“What took you so long, Beetlejuice?! I’ve been waiting here for decades! Did ya get everything?” Bee inquired with a smile.

Beetlejuice chuckled and nudged an elbow to Bee, “It hasn’t been that long and you know it, Beelzebub. I should know; I’ve been waiting for centuries. And it isn’t my fault this time! A couple o' demons were late, some of the items were wrong, and I kinda-sorta pissed some of the demons off with a femur. Don't ask."

“Damn… my bad. We wouldn’t have taken this detour if dear old Satan and the rest of my ‘family’ didn’t seal some of my powers away! You take over a few séances and possess a large group of people for three weeks and suddenly, you’re the bad guy!” Bee snarled and shook his head before making a sharp left turn at an alley once he saw some shadows at his rear-view mirror.

“I know, right?” Beetlejuice scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sounds just like my mom. ‘Beebleboose, stop bothering the recently deceased and get a job!’”

Beelzebub laughed as he elbowed the dead-born demon, the yellow colors fading back to green. “See? We get each other, BJ! The only other demon who gets me would be my twin, but he’s more about locking his stash away and never using it. Not us. We gluttons know how to have a good time! Why don’t you move down here for the rest of eternity? We could be neighbors, roommates even!”

"As much as eternal suffering sounds awesome, it kinda loses its touch after a while, ya know?" Beetlejuice leaned back in his seat. "Doesn't it get boring torturing and killing souls over and over and they always come back? It's gettin' to a point where everyone expects it. I just wanna get out and have my kind of fun for a change! I wanna be with the living! I don’t want anyone or anything tying me down ever again."

"I hear ya, Ant-Wine. There's just something about the living that's so damn addicting. And I ain't just talking about tastes either! Why do you think I keep risking my existence for the biggest gluttons out there? And what's your job on the surface again? It sounds hilarious!"

"A bio-exorcist. Y'know how the living try to take out demons? I, a demon, take out the living for the dead." Beetlejuice jerked a thumb to his own chest with pride, then shrugged after thinking about it. “Granted, I can’t affect the living and I’m getting ghosts to make the living say my name, but it’s a good gig.”

“Well, ya don’t need to worry about that anymore once we get to the spot!” Bee assured him as he checked to see if anything else were following them, then sighing when they were in the clear. “I got some of my followers on the surface getting themselves into position. When we get there, I possess the leader, say your name three times, and we both get summoned into the land of the living. We scare and eat as much as we want, grow as we please, and we split the world and possibly the universe fifty-fifty!”

“Eighty-twenty.” Beetlejuice challenged.

“Seventy-thirty.”

“Sixty-forty, plus I get a Broadway musical and say-so on the merch!” The green-haired demon pointed finger guns at the other while winking.  

“Deal!” Both demons shook on it.

“Ay dios mio, is that what you were planning all this time?!” A tiny, muffled voice squeaked all of a sudden that almost made the two demons jump. Hearing the source near him, Beetlejuice blinked and glanced down at one of his shirt pockets. He reached to open it when a small head poked out of the pocket. A blueish-green head with long red hair that Beetlejuice recognized from anywhere.

"Teresa?! What are you doing here?" He exclaimed as he almost fell backwards in his seat. The woman in question stood up from her spot in the pocket and lifted her arm to point up at him.

"I could ask you the same thing, mi canalla! Here I am, riding and sliding in your pocket instead of taking my well-earned, once-in-a-death time break! Do you know how much paperwork I needed to file to get it approved?!" Teresa scolded while almost ripping strands of her own hair out, then sighed as she pinched her forehead and muttered in Spanish briefly. "I saw you leaving the Netherworld and I got worried, so I followed you and hid in here while you shifted."

At that, the dead-born demon scowled and crossed his arms. "There's nothin' ta worry about. I'm fine on my own!"

Beelzebub glanced from the wheel to see the tiny spirit and gave a slight smirk, reaching to poke her with his pointer finger. "Huh... So your guardian ghost is Miss Argentina?" At that, Teresa snapped her fingers and pushed the large appendage away.

"That's Miss Teresa Maria Argentina to you, buster! No touching!"  She craned her head up to the giant that carried her. “Who does this guy think he is, anyway?”

“This guy is the demon prince of Gluttony.”

Teresa scoffed, then did a double take and stared at Bee again. "Huh. Not what I expected for the king of all pigs."

"La adulación la llevará a todas partes, Señorita. And there's more to gluttony than just eating." The demon crooned, focusing back onto the street. “We’re in the age of excess, honey, and you’re a part of it whether you like it or not.”

“Oh no, I’m not going to be in your little scheme of yours! Which, by the way, will backfire!” Miss Argentina pointed out before crossing her arms in disapproval.

“You can come to the land of the living with us?” Beetlejuice offered with a grin. Before Teresa could reply, both she and the dead-born jolted forward when Beelzebub suddenly on the brakes. The three looked out the window to see an entire row of demons barricading the street. Some demons had motorcycles and their own cars while others stood with their hulking bodies alone. All of them came in different shapes and sizes. A particular demon who looked more like a chubby dragon in form stepped forward from the crow of angry demons.

“Beetlejuice, we got ya surrounded! Come outta the glutton's car. We just need ta talk!” The dragon demon bellowed with a brash voice.

Beetlejuice let out a laugh, his hair turning a bit yellow at the tips as he opened his window and waved. "Heeeeeey, Rosco! How's the femur?" A growl and glare was his only reply.

"Go on ahead! I'll see if I could blow these guys off and contact Mintaka to back us up! I'll catch up with you two when I can." Beelzebub ordered. Without waiting for an answer, he revved up his engine and made a sharp 180 turn. Magma spewed from between the wheels and created a large wave of molten rock, causing the line of demons to scramble away from it.

“Now!” Beelzebub shouted as Beetlejuice's door opened by itself. The ghost didn't need to be told twice. He flew out of the car and landed on his feet before he ran into a nearby alleyway. A few demons and imps who had avoided the magma followed him.

Teresa clung to the edge of the shirt pocket for dear afterlife as her giant mode of transportation moved quickly. Yes, she was dead, but that didn't mean she was immune to pain. It was also a force of habit.

Beetlejuice cursed at himself. It would've been much easier if he were at the surface and he could just teleport himself away. He didn't have that luxury in Hell. Seeing a wired fence up ahead, he had a plan. He pulled at his hair three times as if grabbing something, then he seemed to throw something invisible to his pursuers. All of a sudden, three clones of himself appeared in front of the demons, blocking them from their path as he leapt onto the fence and clambered up to the other side.

"Damn that rat!" One imp exclaimed in frustration. Beetlejuice smirked and continued moving. After a while, he came across an open clearing and an entrance to a burning park covered in glowing stalagmites. They were close to the summoning spot. The ghost with the most cheered, jumping into the air and pumping his fist. Nothing could ruin his moment! He took a few steps forward...

... only to get tackled by a large dust cloud consisting of Rosco and Beelzebub clawing and gnawing at each other. Beetlejuice snarled as his nails and fangs sharpened, trying to push both demons off of him while biting and scratching anyone who came too close. Teresa ducked down to the safety of the shirt pocket, questioning her afterlife choices. The ball of fighting seemed to stop when both Beetlejuice and Beelzebub grabbed Rosco by the shoulders and slammed him to the side of a building.

"Ha!" The two demons exclaimed in victory. The impact was so great, it caused the building to break in half and topple over, hitting the building next door. And the one after that. And the one after that. Soon, there was a giant building version of dominoes falling one by one until it stopped at a particular office building where two demons were having a meeting.

"BETELGEUSE/BEELZEBUB!" Two voices roared suddenly, echoing all over Hell and possibly the Netherworld as well. Both demons in question stood up straight, let go of the dragon demon, and winced in unison.

"Oh crap."

Before either of them knew it, the two demons and the spirit found themselves in Lucifer's domain, tensed and unaware of what would transpire. As Bee got dragged away in chains, Beetlejuice stood in the middle of the hallway and averted his eyes from Juno's sight, his hair and outfit turning a gloomy violet as his wrists shifted from the handcuffs behind him. Teresa stood on the director's shoulder, not saying a word.

"Why doesn't this surprise me one bit?" Juno stated calmly, only to shriek when Beetlejuice opened his mouth to speak. "You damn fool! You couldn't give me just one year of peace without screwing it up!"

"But mom-!"

"BUT NOTHING! I'll deal with you later." Juno raised the palm of her hand, causing Beeltejuice to stumble backwards and freeze. Without delay, she then took out a piece of chalk from her hair and drew a tiny door on the nearby wall. She knocked on the door three times with her pinky and the door opened up to reveal green mist. She then aligned herself so the ghost on her shoulder was in front of the entrance.

"I take it you enjoyed your relaxing break?” Juno asked in a saccharine tone. Not waiting for an answer, she exclaimed. “Now get back to work! We just got a bus load of casino gamblers who are probably going to fight with the football players and do who knows what. And no word of what you saw here to the others, understand?”

"Yes, ma'am." Teresa nodded as she held herself while trying to look as professional as possible. She strutted to the door, but stopped just as she was about to enter. She turned her head to look back at Beetlejuice who tried not to make eye contact with her. With a sympathetic frown, she gave a slight wave and made her exit, the door shutting behind her. Beetlejuice looked to the door and sighed, only to yelp when his handcuffs tugged him forward.

“Come on, Lawrence. Satan’s waiting for you.” Juno ordered, walking ahead past her son. She beckoned her finger and the handcuffs tugged again, forcing Beetlejuice to follow her. They went down the hallway and entered the last room which was filled to the brim with demons and imps like a courtroom. Most of them were either involved with recent events or were nearby. There were conversations between their groups until the Shoggoths entered the room, causing the room to become silent.

Juno took Beetlejuice to the front of the stand where the Cardinal Council sat in tall podiums waiting for him. The Cardinal Council consisted of powerful demons who embodied the seven main cardinal sins known to humans. Belphegor of Sloth was dozing off in his seat. Leviathan of Envy was writing a few notes to themselves. Asmodeus of Lust brushed his pink long locks with a comb and some help with a breeze he summoned. Mammon of Greed fidgeted with his coins like always. Beelzebub of Gluttony managed a subtle wave to the dead-born. Last but not least, Lucifer stood at the tallest podium. Despite popular belief, he had the honor of having both Pride and Wrath in his repertoire. Nothing changed about him except that he had more fur and goat features at the moment. Beetlejuice took his place in front of the council, but felt the force from his mother staying with him. Once everyone was accounted for, Lucifer cleared his throat and drummed his claws on the podium.

“Out of all the dead-borns we have in Hell and all over, you have got to be the most stubborn pain in the ass I ever met.” He started, glaring down at the dead-born.

"Lucy, hey! How ya doin'? Your horns look extra-curly today." Beetlejuice casually greeted with a wink.

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Lawrence." The goat demon deadpanned. Beetlejuice felt his handcuffs tugging him back and he glanced to see his mother's disapproving frown. Swallowing the negativity for now, he returned his attention to the one in charge.

"C'mon, Lucifer. Let's talk demon to demon, huh? Sure, I snuck down here to hang out with one of the most powerful demons in Hell and destroyed a few things, but what demon hasn't?" The ghost with the most laughed and shrugged. "Besides, it's not like the first few times I messed up here."

“Oh, where do I begin with that?” Lucifer asked in a sardonic tone before he pulled out a large scroll from behind his back and unraveled it. The paper dropped on the ground and continued to roll onto the ground, stretching out of the room and seeming to continue rolling. Yellow strands of hair started to appear on Beetlejuice’s head.

“Surely, you must be exaggerating!” An imp who stood below the podium exclaimed in disbelief, leaning over to read the long scroll.

“This is Beetlejuice we’re talking about. Am I? Let’s read a few random ones, shall we?” The ruler of Hell took out a pair of eyeglasses and placed them on before skimming to a random spot on the list. “There was the time that he and another dead-born managed to freeze all of Hell for a while because, and I quote, ‘We need to have a snow day’.”

"We really needed one!" Beetlejuice shot back in defense. "I've seen breathers enjoy those all the time and Mint owed me one!"

Lucifer chose not to answer as he continued, "You let all the hellhounds loose and insisted that Cerberus should go on a 'play-date'."

"Hey, what Spot and I have is something special! They and Sandy would get along great eating souls and all."

"They are MY pet!"

"Eh... you say 'pet', I say 'furry and fun three-headed acquaintance'."

"And let's not forget the 'food' incident when you somehow managed to make the Netherworld smell like coconut, Hell smell like guacamole, and nearly consumed a hundred souls assigned to a specific place in Hell!" Nearly every demonic being in the room shuddered at the memory.

At the last offense, Beetlejuice shuddered as he nodded in agreement. "Okay, now that was a mistake I will never do again. The last time I would ever make anything in the Lust district. We'll leave it at that! No offense, Azzy."

"None taken." Asmodeus muttered from his seat, not knowing whether to bleach the memory from his brain or keep it.

"The point is you've been causing trouble both here and the Netherworld for centuries despite your curse and I'm at my limit for the last time!" Lucifer sneered, rolling the scroll of crimes back up and making it disappear.

The demons, imps, and four members of the Cardinal Council talked amongst themselves. No doubt they were talking about Beetlejuice and how annoying he was. Beelzebub raised his hand.

"Hey, Satan. It was my idea in the first place. B-Juice was just going along with it. Can't we just lock him outta Hell for a while and curse me instead?" The demon of Gluttony offered. The demon of Pride and Wrath glared at him.

"Oh look at you, trying to act all noble!" Lucifer's voice went up a pitch as he clasped his hands in mockery before he dropped the act and adjusted his glasses with a frown, earning a glare from Bee. "Don't play cute with me. He'll just somehow come here and you two will cause mayhem again!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Juno commented drily. The mutters and clamor resumed until Lucifer smacked the side of the podium with his tail hard, causing the room to be silent.  

"What we need is a more... proper punishment. A curse that'll make sure you get the message through that thick skull of yours." With a wave of his wrist, a hefty folder of papers stamped with Beetlejuice's name on it appeared on the podium. Lucifer then started skimming through the file. This continued for a minute or two until his eyes widened at a particular page. He glanced at the dead-born.

"You're obsessed with humans, right? I believe you call them breathers in the Netherworld. You and Bee have that much in common."

No one said a word. Beelzebub averted his gaze from everyone, sinking into his seat as he wanted to be anywhere but there. Juno blew a smoke ring, keeping her thoughts to herself. Beetlejuice continued to glare at the ruler of Hell from his position. Lucifer placed down the stack of papers and took off his eyeglasses to stare at the other. He was silent for a moment until he gave a slight smirk.

"Since you like breathers so much, I should give you what you want. It is what you deserve, after all." He rubbed his claws against his chest before he pointed one at the dead-born. "Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth, you are still banished to the world of the living and cannot say your true name, but I'm adding a few details so you'll stay put. The first one? I'm sealing you to the one item that'll be your downfall."

Lucifer snapped his fingers and a flame burst up from the ground, forming a specific shape. When Beetlejuice noticed what the shape was, he paled.

"No... Not that. Anything but that!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, yes that. Congratulations, you're going to be... LITERATURE!" The flames died down and a large book with a black cover floated in the air. Upon seeing it, Beetlejuice dropped to his knees and screamed dramatically.

"But I can't spell! You maniac!"

"And that's not all! You will be sealed inside this book for all eternity unless you can bond with a living person. It could be any type of bond as long as it's genuine and strong. I'll add some more rules for you to read at your leisure. Until then, only a breather who can read your book could set you free and we all know the chances of that happening!" Lucifer laughed, causing everyone to join him. He then turned to Juno, raising an eyebrow. "This curse alright with you, Juno?"

"Beetlejuice becoming the very thing he destroys? Now that's something I would like to see." The director of Netherworld Customs almost grinned at that. Her son stared at the ground, the purple on his body and hair getting deeper. Seeing that Juno had no complaints, Lucifer then addressed everyone else.

"All those in favor of turning Betelgeuse into a book and throwing him out, say 'Eye'."

"Eye!" Everyone in the room except Beetlejuice and Beelzebub raised their hands, some of the demons even held up their own eyeballs. Lucifer took a quick scan and grinned.

"It's settled. Majority rules. Time to go. Bye, Bug-Beverage!" With a sadistic glint in his eye, the demon ruler snapped his fingers. The large book floated in the air and opened itself, its pages flipping and glowing until it stopped at the center of the book. Once it stopped, a swirling vortex appeared on both pages, acting as a powerful wind current as chains shot out from the book and connected with the ghost's handcuffs to pull him in. Beetlejuice panicked.

"No, wait! I'll behave, I promise! Not this, anything but this! Satan, the things I do ta get a different beginning from the original source material!" Beetlejuice cursed as he gripped at the ground to hold himself from the wind current and chains pulling at him.. It only increased the suction, causing some demons and imps to brace themselves.

His claws dug deep onto the floor as he was dragged by his chains towards the book. Gritting his fangs, Beetlejuice reached out to Beelzebub and cried out, "Tell my story!" Before the gluttony demon could respond, the ghost with the most was sucked into the book and it slammed itself shut.

Everyone in the room applauded and let out a sigh of relief. With a deadpan expression on his face, Beelzebub got up from his seat.

"Well... that was fun." Bee yawned and rolled his eyes, pointing to the other side of the room. "I'm out!"

"Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast!" Satan crooned and grabbed the orange-haired demon by the shirt collar to stop his escape. "I haven't forgotten about you nor my original plan. Just need to put the finishing touches..."

Without any explanation, Lucifer pulled Beelzebub's arm towards his face and bit at the other's thumb, causing the latter to scream. He then slammed Beelzebub's left hand onto the book. Black blood seeped from the thumb and spread onto the entire book, glowing orange upon contact. When he felt that there was enough, Lucifer took off Bee's hand and waved over the book, causing the glow to fade. With that, the seals were complete.

Having watched everything, Juno stared at the book her son was in, her face expressionless. She then took a drag of her cigarette and glanced away, almost relieved. "Let the living deal with him now."

"Where should we drop 'im, boss?" An imp asked as it hopped next to Lucifer, ready to complete the deed once and for all.

"The one place rarely anyone would find it so easy." The ruler of Hell replied after a bit of thought. "A place no one would ever expect such a powerful book to be!"

Late at night on the surface where the living dwelled, a red portal opened up above the sleepy town of Winter River, Connecticut. The black book fell out from the portal, its blank pages fluttering with the air as the portal immediately closed back up. The book continued to fall until it reached above an old tall house on a hill, going through the roof and landing right inside the attic of the house where it waited for someone, anyone worthy, to open and read it.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 5

The One With Garthy O’ Brien

Welcome back you guys and a special shoutout to all of y’all who are fans of FH and CritRole. I don’t know about you but Matt and Brennan basically shaved a full year off of my life between Wednesday and Thursday with their DM machinations. Now we don’t have time to unpack all of that, but we can at least tackle the FH stuff so let’s jump right in.

Last we left off, the gang had just arrived at the floating pirate city of Leviathan. Pirates immediately start hauling them in and everyone turns to Fabian for a cue on how to react (at the exact same time, hilariously). Fabian tells them all to be mean and he makes a pirate cry immediately. Wild.  

They meet Jemina Joy who is a very cool Warforged (living automaton) pirate and also the boatswain of the city (pronounced “bosun”, they’re the boss of the crew and all the stuff on the boat, I was very into Monkey Island as a kid). One of her arms is a cannon and I need you to know that. Anyway, Fabian name drops his dad to try and get them some respect. It goes pretty OK but not as well as Adaine simply pointing out Cathilda’s presence. Jemina fully takes the knee and calls her, “Cathilda the Black, Terror of the Celestine Sea.”  Fig helps Cathilda disguise herself so she doesn’t draw any unnecessary attention. Despite the clout, Jemina still says she’s seizing the boat (it seems like they do this to get materials to keep the city afloat). Fig tries to move her with the power of rock because of course. She hits at 23 on a 20 DC check for that because of course. 

While she’s doing that nonsense, Adaine and Riz are--as always--trying to keep the party alive. Riz rolls a high perception check and noticed a pretty boy tiefling watching Fabian looking all hero worshippy. 

Thoroughly swayed between the name dropping and the rock and roll and the Cathilda of it all, Jemina offers to let them buy the Van-Boat back. Fabian, as always, is ready to throw any amount of cash at the problem and Adaine, as always, is trying to be responsible with their cash. After a hilariously long sidebar (which includes Fig, who introduced herself as a very famous rock star, saying they should “Act the part of the pauper,” which is a wild turn of phrase to just drop out of nowhere) the tiefling from before shows up and pays for the Van for them. He introduces himself as Alistair Ash and tells them that he paid with rocks magick’d to look like gold for ten minutes so they better book it. They have another long sidebar about whether they should pay or not with Adaine and wildly Fig on the side and of paying. They pay and Alistair agrees to take them to see Garthy O ’Brien (the pirate Bill had been dealing with).

On the way to see Garthy, the gang finds out that Allister is a warlock, his patron being none other than the damned madman himself--Bill Seacaster. Hilariously, Bill doesn’t take his charges souls. He makes them do microtransactions for their spells and recruit others like it’s a pyramid scheme. I don’t know what he’s gonna do will gold in HELL but it is on brand, I’ll give him that. 

A random dwarf calls Riz a slur so Fig and Kristen get him to jump to his death by turning into him and telling him he’s been dead for ten years, respectively.

Normal D&D stuff. 

Anyway, they make it to the Golden Gardens which is Garthy O’ Brien’s casino/brothel/resort (“Pirate Moulin Rogue” is how Brennan described it) and we learn that Brennan specifically made this character to F with the chat because they are this beefcake, non-binary,  aasimar/half-orc, tatted-up, succubus. My chat is usually on like a couple of seconds lag and I could have timed exactly how long the lag was by glancing over and counting off the seconds until the horned up comments started flooding in. You knew exactly what you were doing here Mr. Lee Mulligan. 

Garthy invites them in for drinks, drugs, and use of the facilities where Kristen accidentally takes the drink of a mindflayer (think, humanoid Cthulhu-monster). He’s James Whitlaw, Captain of the Crimson Claw and enemy of Bill Seacaster. The group tries to smooth things over but Fabian Sparta kicks him in the chest after he drags Bill. There’s a bit of a tousle but Garthy shuts that down before it can get out of hand. 

Post fight, the group questions Garthy and here are the highlights of that discussion:

They were supplying Bill with Palimpsests. Doing dead drops like the group assumed. 

The last time they were at the hotel, they got told by the new staff (ie: the demons in disguise) that Bill wasn’t coming and when Garthy wouldn’t play ball with them, the demons attacked them and took their pouch of gems. Garthy says the demons were probably there to ambush them for their gems. They especially wanted the Sapphire but was useless to them because it already had a Celestial inside of it.

The demons had been summoned and bound to the material plane by someone very powerful.  

Garthy doesn’t usually get gems from the Red Waste. 

Garthy has heard of the Shadowcat. They can’t see the Shadowcat in the pic (just Pok who they say is cute). Alistair also can’t see Kalina. 

Garthy tells Fig that, like they already knew, it would be super hard to break Gorthalax out. It would be hard for them to do, even considering curse breaking is one of their specialties. 

The crown of the Nightmare King passed through the Gold Gardens recently, brought by--surprise, surprise--Adaine’s mom. Adaine’s mom was coming in to get a curse broken--one placed on her by the crown. With it broken, she’d be able to handle it more easily. She tricked Garthy into doing it without revealing exactly what the curse was and was kicked out once it was revealed. Garthy’s not sure where she went but they know she was frustrated that she couldn’t just teleport there (because she hadn’t been there before and didn’t have a description of it). She left on a Falinel-bound ship. 

Garthy says Gorthalax is likely in a lot of pain in the gem he’s in.

The demons needed the gem for some kind of ritual sacrifice (namely, the one with Riz and Fig).

Also, Kristen is fully drunk for all of this. 

Post info-dump, Van-Boat (whose actual name is Zathriel btw, more info from Garthy) mindlinks with Gorgug to tell them that a fight has broken out. Gorgug has the Van drive towards them. The group pays for a suite and then Riz, Fig, and Adaine fly over to the Van (with Tracker following in her spectral wolf form). Riz jumps in the front seat, takes the wheel from Gilear, and commits a ton of vehicular manslaughter. During the fight, Sandra-Lynn gets shot and falls off of Baxter. She almost goes down but Tracker catches and heals her. 

They all make it back and proceed to reenact the house party scene from that one John Mulaney sketch (“a bunch of drunk toddlers”). People are getting wasted. People are getting tattoos. People are doing drugs. Kristen is riding Tracker like a horse (the G rated way, tyvm).  

Then, uh, something not super chill happens.

Sandra-Lynn gets totally wasted and decides she’s gonna teach Fig (who is a little cagey about if she likes anyone by the by) how to flirt without the use of disguise self and such. She decides she’s gonna demonstrate on Garthy which she does. Successfully. Sandra-Lynn who is in a relationship that is monogamous as her request. 

The drunk toddlers are herded into a room by Fig and Kristen. Kristen has Tracker cast the Moon Haven spell on the room and Fig and Adaine go to Garthy’s room to make sure Sandra-Lynn isn’t in trouble or anything. She’s not in trouble (yet) but, based on the way she’s clearly hastily redressed, she’s clearly about to run into some. Fig books it out of there, mortified. 

Fig and Adaine lie about where they’ve been to Gilear and then they report back to the group. Tracker--who is pretty out of it at this point--sleepily asks who Sandra-Lynn’s been kissing. Everyone realizes, Oh no, Jawbone is poly but the relationship is supposed to be monogamous. Big yikes. Kristen feeds Tracker a mumbly lie about how Sandra-Lynn is kissing Jawbone that I really hope doesn’t blow up in her face because then it will be the hat trick of main relationships imploding in as many episodes. Kristen and Riz go back to Garthy’s room because Kristen wants to cast something (Detect Good and Evil, the result of which we don’t see this ep--though I feel like it would have to ping Garthy since they have celestial blood, right?) and Kristen notices that someone cast Clairvoyance on her and Riz, meaning someone knows they were outside.   

Meanwhile, Fabian sneaks off to Crow’s Keep to be an emo pirate boy and talk to his dad while staring out into the sea. He’s suddenly surrounded by cloaked figures. Brennan rolls a bunch of dice, triggering Lou’s fight-or-flight, before revealing the cloaked dudes are just Alistair and the rest of his warlock friends who are all huge fans of their patron’s son. And we don’t get to find out what, if anything, they want from Fabian until next ep because that’s where Brennan ends the ep. 

Detention

Sandra-Lynn for Cheating on Jawbone

OK, there’s a lot to unpack here. 

I’ll start by saying we technically don’t know if she went through with it or not since Fig interrupted her before things could very far but we know she got naked which is more than far enough to be a betrayal imo. 

And it’s so wild because she for sure could have been in an open relationship. She’s the one who stipulated monogamy. 

On the one hand, I appreciate that Brennan is playing these NPCs as human (“human”) and failable and realistic but on the other hand, man I can’t stand cheating. And it’s not like she hasn’t cheated before. That’s, like, a major plot point. But it’s easier to gloss over something that happened a long time ago and we didn’t have to witness in real time.

Like, this isn’t good. It’s not gonna be good for the group. She forced Kristen into a position where she has to lie to/keep secrets from Tracker potentially. Also, Tracker is a wolf. There’s a non-zero chance she’s gonna be able to smell what happened. Do you really want one possibly both of the healers on the team mad at you? And they weren’t just dating They’re LIVING TOGETHER. And not just together. Together with like five--pending six--children (and pending one adult). That’s a lot of people that are gonna get forcible sucked into your drama. 

And poor Jawbone. I know he’s a trooper and he’s def been through worse but just because you can deal with something, doesn’t mean you should have to.

Anyway, Adaine said it best: Sandra-Lynn is both more and less cool than I thought she was. 

Honor Roll

Riz for His Driving Skills

I couldn’t tell you why but the phrase, “vehicular manslaughter” is so inherently funny to me.  Riz hitting a nat 20 to just mow down all the attackers in his path was hilarious. 

Note: I also could have given this spot to Garthy but I’m a little ambivalent on all the enabling of awful but hilarious life choices. 

Random Thoughts

Adaine trying to blend in by saying ahoy to everyone and getting a tricorner hat from her jacket was so good (big props to everyone who drew that, especially y’all who also gave Boggy a hat). Also, I’m glad she’s been using her jacket more in general so she’ll be more likely to remember it in an emergency.

@jamiebluewind made this really useful post with the descriptions of all the new characters and the tats the Bad Kids got which you can find here.

Also, @ttttttterrence shouted me out during the livestream so I’m returning the gesture. What’s up man!

I like that when the group is discussing how to split the cost of the suite, Fabian is just like, “I got it, don’t worry.” He clearly takes pride in being able to throw money around for his friends.

Fabian, who has for sure seen Cathilda in action during a fight: Maids can’t kill. 

Ally’s amused disbelief at the phrase, “Act the part of the pauper,” was sending me. 

Adaine: There’s no way you’re an only child. 

OK, this isn’t totally related to this ep, it’s more a point about FH in general that I don’t think I’ve brought up yet. How does a fantasy high school work in a world where races age at vastly different rates? Like goblins have a max age of about 60 and reach adulthood at 8. Meanwhile, elves reach physical maturity at the same age as humans but because they live to be like 700+ years old, they’re not considered adults until, like, the age of 100. At first I thought they were ignoring racial aging differences (like I do when I write fantasy I can’t be bothered with the implications usually) but in this and last ep, they were brought up. And I thought it might be that we were saying what everyones’ ages were in human years but, based on the info we’ve heard (like how far back Pok died for example) their ages have to be in normal years. Which brings me to theory 3: everyone ages physically and mentally at the same rate as humans to adulthood and then some races just decline more quickly than others afterwards. 

Fig: I sink into a deep depression. 

Alistair has an adorable cockney accent and he might be a little bit of a sociopath but let’s put a pin in that until next week. Oh, also, I was so sure he was gonna be Fabian’s brother too, just like half the table. 

Brennan so good at adding things in for flavor to make the world cooler. What prompted this comment is him saying that as Tracker travels in spectral wolf form, a forest path appears at her feet briefly. Very cool attention to detail.

Bill running a MLM warlock system where you pay by the spell is so, so funny. I actually am not sure if the MLM aspect of it was planned or if someone (one of the girls I think) said it as a joke and Brennan ran with it but that’s extremely funny. 

I know how leveling works in the above-game for balance but, in game, I feel like there’s no reason Bill and Gorthalax shouldn’t give everyone a level of Warlock. That would get them all 2 cantrips (eldritch blast, mage hand, and chill touch are options) and 2 level one spells (charm person, hellish rebuke, and charm person can be clutch).

Speaking of, I almost feel like this episode was setting up Fabian and Gorgug to multiclass. Fabian’s dad being a patron is a prime opportunity for him to get some warlock levels (and it would be very good for his aesthetic. I mean, magic pirate? Hell yeah). And Gorgug later in the episode says something like, “I could fix the van so fast if I had magic.” I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets a level in a caster class soon. 

“Did you learn your magic in a book?”/”Yes!”/”Oh, lah-dih-dah. I can read.”

Fig: Adaine is the best at armies!

Forget if I mentioned this before but I’m very pleasantly surprised that Adaine’s mom is such a driving force this season. She’s one of the characters we explored the least last season which was a bummer for me because I really wanted to know what was going on in her head. Looks like we’re close to getting some insight soon. I’m guessing we might have another ep or half ep until we get there unless something else happens to sidetrack the group. 

I glossed over it in the actual recap but Fig casting disguise self on herself to look like the dwarf who was picking on Riz was just some peak Emily with an assist from chaos monster Ally. Here’s the scene. What’s funny is I thought I knew what Emily’s thought process was (If he sees himself, he’ll very likely be thrown off his rhythm) but then she was like, “I wanted to be someone from the area and he’s the only guy I’ve met.” Lol, bold of me to assume I have any idea what’s going on in her head. 

Adaine and, by extension, Siobhan just casually knows what a forecastle is (it’s “a raised deck at the bow of a ship”). Also, Brennan uses the word susurrous which means “full of whispering sounds”. That’s twice I had to reach for my dictionary (by which I mean Google). 

The whole concept of Garthy is extremely cool and I’m specifically talking about race. I’ve never heard of a half-orc aasimar because in fantasy books it’s usually the humans getting it on with everyone and making half-whatever babies but there’s no reason a half-orc couldn’t have celestial ancestry. The idea of a risen devil is also very dope and something I’ve only seen once (and as art, not in an RPG context--Edit: Actually, I’ve seen in twice. In one chapter of Ah My Goddess, Hell sticks a demon onto the main goddess to try and corrupt her and she ends up purifying the demon which was wild when I read it in high school but you’re not here for me to go off about my comfort manga so let’s keep moving). The idea that there are “bad” gods and so their opposition, their “demons” would be essentially angels is very clever and something I hadn’t really considered. Also the phrase  “The job is the fuck people into being decent basically,” is really A+. Well done Brennan. 

Also, my knowledge of CR Campaign 1 is very spotty so this may be very off but I feel like Brennan watched a bunch of Gilmore scenes and then snorted a line of coke before he created Garthy. 

Kristen: I’m proud of the choices I make. 

Emily: They eat brains but also drink beer?

Captain Whitlock has a peg leg tentacle on his face that he tries to face touch Kristen with and Tracker is not having ANY of that. “Under no circumstances.”

Poor Fabian, giving an awesome speech to Captain Whitlock and then rolling a 1 on his Sparta Kick. Luckily, Gorgug hit a 26 on a DC 25 challenge to give him the help action so Fabian didn’t eat it.

Sidenote, we learn there used to be a pirate king but Bill killed him. Sounds about right. 

I’m even more convinced that the rule is people who have seen Kalina before can see her in the picture after the conversation they had about it in this ep. Glad they decided to puzzle it out some more--even though I think it’s a little iffy to be spilling all your info to a pirate you literally just met (especially Fig--closed book my ass). 

Garthy mentions again that the NK defies categorization--something that came up in Adaine’s research. I’m wondering how that’s gonna come into play later. 

“I could tell you a very sweet lie, which is more my style.” I really like Garthy and I hope that continues to be the case.

Gorgug: That would be pretty disruptive...Yeah.

“Your name’s Van-Boat.”/”No!”

Riz, right before a nat 20 to commit Vehicular manslaughter: Get out of the way Gilear. I’ve killed people before, it’s fine.

I loved everyone being like, “Gilear you killed people! You’re officially an adventurer!”

Gilear, with the intensity of someone a firefighter has just pulled out of a burning building: I need the frog.

Tracker does like a crazy blood-brother type ritual for healing which is interesting because you’d think that would be bad what with the werewolf-ism but I guess it’s just through biting.

Fabian and Ragh peer pressuring Riz to do snuff, Ragh actually getting him to do it with a hippie speech about mind expansion, and Riz getting high as hell and getting Memento tats all over his body (NIGHT YORB--also, Sklonda is gonna LOVE this I bet) is such a wild series of events. 

Kristen casts a spell on Gilear so she’ll take all of his damage and he starts getting hurt the second he’s out of her eyeshot. Wild. 

“I cast friends on Gilear.”

I am going to murder Brennan for that cell tower gag. 

Sidebar: I don’t have a picture of the Leviathan map but if someone has it someone I’ll post the link here for anyone who could use it.

And while we’re side tracked, shoutout to the dude who made this song based on Gorgug’s last ep. The line, “My girlfriend's really mad and she's also a goat” is truly golden.

Oh! And someone randomly gifted me a twitch subscription to dropout! If you’re on here, thanks somePloops!

Kristen and Tracker getting neck tats of each others’ names is just so so much. 

Also, let’s pour one out for the fan-artists of FH that are also fans of CR and had to watch half the cast of both getting tatted up in back to back weeks, making any canon drawing that much more complicated. 

I don’t think I fully realized until this ep when Adaine was the only sober one of her friends in a bar reading a book how closely she’s tracking my high school/college experience. Her, “Everyone is drunk by which I mean everyone but me is drunk,” killed me because I have said that verbatim on so many occasions. Watching Siobhan play Adaine is like, therapy by proxy for me.

“I am a child.”

Adaine, lying badly: I have also taken drugs.

Kristen has a stealth of -3. Woof. 

Fig, Adaine and Riz each got nat 1 20 this ep. Fabian, Gorgug, and Adaine each rolled a nat 1 but Fabian’s was cancelled by Gorgug and Adaine’s was on initiative. 

[latestageyouth]

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 9 -  Love is dead and soon you'll follow.

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, misunderstandings, Pica, implications of eating glass (no actual eating), a beer bottle is thrown on a wall near someone (but no one gets hurt and it’s not an attempt to hurt someone), talk of an abusive mother, recalling of the said mother throwing Virgil onto a glass table, mentions of stitches and bleeding, swearing, talk of the black plague and plague doctors, innuendos, innuendos about losing your virginity, implications of bad parenting, underage drinking, assumptions of transphobia, talk of murder (not serious), Virgil makes an “I want to die” joke

summary: I am back on my bullshit, and it's more intense than I remember.

author’s note: aasfklsdf all the trigger warnings, my hand hurts (but ask me if you think I should add something)

Jenna didn't hesitate to speak even with her mouth full, telling the rest of the story "And then I was like "I am not!" and then Tyler was like "You kinda are", and I was like "...I kind of am," so long story short, I don't let him go to my room anymore."

Damon nodded, eyebrows raised, "Wow, I...lost track of what you were saying after like three words."

Jenna shrugged and kept eating her sandwich, "I am not surprised. Anyhow, what's with the...I forgot his name, the nerd," Jenna snapped her fingers as if that would help her remember.

Damon took a sip from the beer bottle, "You mean Logan?"

The other pointed at him, "That's the bitch!" she exclaimed loudly, "Why did you drag him here?"

Damon put his hand on his chest, face twisting to look as offended as possible, "How dare you assume I dragged him here? He was the one who followed me in the first place, I just wanted to make him as uncomfortable as possible."

"Heh," Jenna chuckled, "With Remus here, he's definitely uncomfortable," she took the bottle from Damon's hand to drink herself, after all, she was the one who brought it in the first place. She turned to look at Virgil, "You want?" Jenna offered him the bottle. Virgil shook his head, declining. Jenna nodded, "Yeah, fair enough."

"Oh my, oh my, I think Logan might snap soon," Damon smirked, looking at the other end of the bridge where Remus was pestering Logan about god knows what, Logan not looking at him even as he leans on his shoulder.

"-Okay, you follow?" Remus looked at Logan, who did not return the look. Remus smiled and continued, "Yeah, so like, what I meant to say is that plague doctors were fucking metal, you know? They were, like, seriously so fucking ahead of their time, like did you know they thought the disease was airborne so they put wet flowers, spices and shit like that in their masks? Fucking superb. Did you know I was a sexy plague doctor on Halloween once? It took like a week to make the mask-"

"Dried flowers," Logan finally spoke, making Remus stop dead in his tracks, looking at him.

"What?"

Logan looked at him, "They didn't put wet flowers in their beaks, they put dried flowers in them, but more often than not it was either herbs or, like you already said, spices."

Remus stared at him for a second, before grinning, "Cool! You a fan of the plague?"

Logan grimaced at the wording, "I am particularly interested in The Black Plague, yes, I find it oddly fascinating."

As Remus opened his mouth, a loud smash echoed right next to them. They both flinched, especially Logan. Remus picked up the broken glass next to them, clear but brown. A beer bottle. They both looked at the other group, where Jenna waved to them.

"Hey, suckers, you wanna spray something or not? We're not gonna be here the whole day," behind her, Logan noticed, was Damon with Virgil, who was holding a spray can. Damon took Virgil's hand, helping him keep the lines more steady, it was clearly the first time Virgil has done something like this. Logan felt...envious? That's nonsensical, why would he?

"Um, actually, I should go," Logan began to stand up, but before he could do anything else, he felt Remus pulling him back by his flannel.

"Why? Don't be a party-pooper," Remus snickered when Logan stumbled back, almost falling before regaining his balance.

"I, uh, I should study, not waste time with-" Logan cut himself off before he could finish.

Remus tilted his head and stood up, "Waste time with what? With a bunch of lowlives?" He leaned towards Logan. The man in question looked away, eyes widening when Remus chuckled, "It's fine, dude, I know I have no future, doesn't mean you have to be such a prude though. C'moooon, a little crime never hurt anyone."

Logan huffed, looking Remus in the eye, "It did. If you get caught, I don't want to-"

Remus snorted, "No one has come under this bridge in like, five years except teenagers and murderers. I'm sure you'll be fine, mommy and daddy won't have to bail you out of jail just yet..." Remus raised an eyebrow, a cocky smirk framing his face "...Unless?"

Logan crossed his arms, shooting his best glare at Remus, who was still smiling at him. Eventually, Logan broke his glare from Remus in defeat, instead going to the other side for the spray cans. He carefully jumped into the dried-up ditch, where a river once passed. He didn't need to get out of it, Jenna handed him a few of the cans.

They both had their separate walls, Damon and Virgil on one side of the bridge, more cracking jokes and playfighting than actually vandalizing public property. Remus and Logan were on the other side, having a rather...one sided conversation.

"No, that's not how you hold it," Remus took Logan's hand and readjusted his fingers, making Logan's hand feel less tense. His hand felt...strange when Remus took his away, "Here, now try it."

Logan pressed on the spray can, tensing up when it actually diffused. He heard Remus snicker, but rolled his eyes and paid it no mind. He dropped his hand with the can to his side, unsure of what to do now that he knew how to do it.

As if Remus could read his mind, he began talking, leaning on Logan's shoulder, "Y'know, you don't have to be all fancy like those suckers," he nodded his head towards Jenna and Damon, "You can just spray your name or whatever. Sometimes simple is good too."

Logan's throat died out, he's not sure at what point. Or why. Or why his pulse is faster than normal. Maybe he's sick. Is Remus sick? Probably, he most likely got it from him because of all this physical contact, which Logan wasn't that fond of anyway.

Fingers snapped in front of his face, "Heeey, Einstein, you with me?"

Logan slapped his hands away, "Yes, of course, I am," he looked at the can in his hand, eyebrows furrowing in thoughts. His shoulder began to hurt as Remus put more weight on it.

"What is it? Nervous about your first time?" Remus wrapped a hand around Logan's, raising it to the wall, "Afraid of losing your g-card?"

Logan clenched his other hand. Something...was wrong. It felt wrong. What? Logan questioned. Something, Logan answered. It was surely something about Remus, Logan wasn't used to spending time with him. It felt off, there was something about Remus, though he wasn't sure he was the cause...Was Logan the cause? He never felt this way, why now? It couldn't be Logan, it doesn't make sense. It's surely something about Remus, Logan will have to keep his distance.

'But what if?' Logan ended up spraying without much thought. Remus raised his eyebrow, "Weird choice, but whatever, who am I to judge?" Remus sprang off of him and went to collect the broken glass from the bottle. Logan didn't question it, it was Remus, why would he? Logan wanted to say something about putting sharp glass in your pockets not being safe but Remus spoke first.

"Oh, well," he stretched his arms above his head, "Should get home, ma's gonna be shitting her pants if I don't," he climbed the steep hill leading to the bridge, not even saying goodbye as he disappeared.

"Wow, what's his problem?" Jenna looked between the remaining three, her gaze stopping on, "Damon? You good?"

Logan turned to look at the man in question, seeing a concerned look on his face, eyebrows knit together and all. He went to turn towards Jenna but stopped himself and looked back to where Remus once stood, "Uh, yeah, I, um...I think I'll..."

"Just go after him already!"

Damon didn't waste any time, running after Remus the fastest he could. The remaining two turned their heads back at Jenna when she laughed, "Lovesick puppy..."

Logan tilted his head, "Pardon?"

Jenna returned the gesture, "You're acting like you can't see it. Like, c'mon, everyone knows those two are in love except for those two."

Logan nodded his head, "Oh."

Damon finally caught up to the other, "I fucking dare you."

Remus stopped and turned around, a dumbfounded look meeting with Damon's half concerned half angry one, "Dare me? Fucking? I sure hope so," he soon replaced it with a flirtatious smirk.

Damon rolled his eyes, "You know what I'm talking about, empty your fucking pockets."

Remus averted his eyes like he was thinking it over, then shook his head, "Sorry, comrade, I really have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he turned around and began walking, "Care to elaborate, dearest?"

The other was soon at his side, mentally going over the list of alternatives to...He doesn't remember when he made it, it just piled up into a list after a while of helping Remus with his problems.

Remus threw a hand around his shoulders and pulled him closer, "What's the problem? Swallowed your tongue?"

"What's the problem?" Damon mimicked, "Swallowed some glass?"

Remus' smile fell. He rolled his eyes, "Y'know, you could've just ignored the fact that I have pica and not say anything."

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" he reached into the other's pocket and threw the glass away, at which Remus turned his head.

"Hey! My afternoon snacks!" he pouted at Damon.

He raised his eyebrows, "You can at least pretend you take this seriously."

Remus snorted, "You say that like I take anything seriously."

"Oh, shut up," Damon rolled his eyes.

"Make me."

It was such a Remus action to do, maybe Damon sent too much time with him...Impossible. Damon didn't know why he did it, he shouldn't've done that. He did. Did Remus close his eyes during? He probably stared at him like he does now. Demon took a step back.

"I, I didn't..."

Remus opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out.

Damon could feel tears pricking at his eyes, "I d...." the words got stuck in his throat.

Remus took a step back, stumbling on the pavement, unable to regain balance as he fell down and covered his mouth with a fist. Damon got the message. So he did what Remus tried to do just now. He ran away. He didn't know where to, not that it mattered anyway. Damon didn't know what to do, he couldn't lie to himself anymore, at least not about this. He felt something cold trickle down his cheeks, not that Damon cared. Not when he just destroyed the most precious thing in the world. How ridiculous, to assume that just because Remus is so clingy and borderline flirting with Damon everyone, that he would...How pathetic of him.

Remus ignored the burning of his scraped hands. He fucked up. Why didn't he just kiss him back like a normal person would?! He made- he made Damon feel horrible. He made Damon cry. How could he do that? He would never do that, would he? Apparently, he would, that's horrible. Remus is a horrible person. How could he make someone like Damon cry?

Jenna looked to the side, staring at the tiny droplets of rain falling down. She raised her eyebrows and turned to the two boys she was talking with for so long now...how long was it again? It couldn't be that long, "You guys wanna stay here until it passes or should we just go?

Virgil checked his phone. No messages, okay, seems like Emile's fine. It's not that late anyways, so almost nothing to worry about. There was always something to worry about. Virgil couldn't shake the bad feeling of "Something bad just happened!" in the back of his head, but what's new. He should answer the question.

Logan answered first, "I wouldn't want to get soaked in the rain on top of all things, I suggest we stay here until it passes. Virgil?"

Virgil nodded. Really, Emile would be more concerned if Virgil got soaked in the rain and got sick, and Virgil doesn't need that kind of babying. He never did, why should he now? He refocused at Jenna, mainly because of her hand reaching into the bag that Virgil presumed was her's.

She pulled out another bottle, "You guys ever played never have I ever?"

Virgil raised his eyebrows. Logan put the bottle aside, "No, and I don't plan to."

Jenna rolled her eyes, "You guys are no fun. Alright, how about the boring version?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, "Boring version?"

She raised her hand, fingers apart, "If you did the thing, you put a finger down. The one who has all fingers down loses, the one with the most fingers chooses a punishment," she tilted her head, a subtle smirk on her face, "You in or are you too much of a pussy?"

"Who says I'm the only one who's opposed? If my vision isn't deceiving me, there are three people."

"Yeah, but violent violet here doesn't seem like a pussy to me," Jenna nodded towards Virgil.

Logan straightened his back, "Fine," he put his hand up, "How do you play this again?"

Virgil gave up and put his left hand in the air.

"I'll start," Jenna said, "Never have I ever...got stitches."

Virgil and Logan put a finger down.

"What for?"

"When I was five, I fell on a sidewalk while running, had to get my chin stitched up," Logan touched his chin at the slight phantom pain. Jenna turned her head in Virgil's direction.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, then began signing, 'My mom threw me on a glass table, my leg was bleeding like crazy.'

Logan opened his mouth to translate but as the words registered, he found he couldn't speak. Jenna patted his shoulder, "Hey, glasses, I don't speak gang signs."

"Ah, y-yes, I apologize," his gaze didn't leave Virgils, "He...cut his leg on a broken glass table."

Jenna hissed, "Damn, son, must've hurt," she and Virgil looked at Logan, "Well?"

"Never have I ever...drank alcohol."

Jenna and Virgil put a finger down, "Weak move, targeting me."

It was Virgil's turn. He thought about it, 'Never have I ever had good parents,' he joked. Logan interpreted. No one put a finger down. Everyone was silent, eyes were avoided. After a while of silence, Jenna spoke.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite gender," she frowned when no one put a finger down, "Never have I ever kissed someone?"

"That's against the rules," Logan pointed out.

"There are no gods watching us, no rules apply throughout anarchy," Jenna said in reply. Logan didn't dare to say anything back.

Virgil put his finger down. No one really noticed.

Logan's turn, "Never have I ever had a one night stand."

Jenna laughed mockingly, "Ha, the joke's on you, discount Bill Nye, no one wants to sleep with me."

Virgil's turn, 'Never have I ever used she/her pronouns,' he gave Jenna a passive-aggressive smile. She rolled her eyes and put a finger down. Logan stiffened. He looked between the two, then slowly put his finger down.

Jenna sighed, "My turn. So, never have I ever cheated on a test."

Logan was...confused, to be precise. They noticed, Logan knew they did. Doesn't matter, he didn't want to make matters worse by pointing it out, better to just go along.

No one put their finger down. Logan's turn. Maybe if he just...it's risky, but, "Never have I ever been to a pride parade."

Jenna groaned and put a finger down, "Your turn, emo."

'Never have I ever smoked a blunt,' Virgil ran out of ideas.

Jenna slammed her other hands on the ground in a fist, "Are you fucking kidding me?!" she reluctantly put a finger down, only her middle finger being upright. She looked like she might as well murder Virgil on the spot. Virgil looked smugger than he should.

Jenna's eyelid twitched, "Never have I ever been mute."

Virgil looked like he was on cloud 9, grinning from ear to ear. Logan never saw him this happy, it was...fascinating, he almost couldn't tear his eyes off of him.

"So what, you're telling me you're not mute?"

Virgil looked at Logan. Logan began explaining, "He has a condition that prevents him from talking, but theoretically, he could talk."

And Jenna looked fucking vivid. She nodded slowly, "Alright, fine, okay," that didn't ease any of Logan's worries of her killing his friend.

Logan couldn't suppress a tiny smile of his own, "Never have I ever-" Jenna glared at him, "...bought something online."

"Ha! Too bad, bitch! I am too poor to buy stuff!" Jenna pointed at Logan. She got up, "You know what? I don't wanna play anymore. Fuck this, fuck you, I am going for some hypothermia, you guys want anything?"

"Normal friends."

'To die.'

Jenna looked between them, "Yeah, I only have like 5 dollars on me, so..." she shrugged.

[calenheniel]

Disappearing Act, a frozen fanfic | ii.

Frozen | Hans, Elsa | Alternate Universe, Drama | G+

She wanted to disappear. He wanted a purpose. Together, they would pull off an impossible feat before the final curtain call.

Read the first part here | Updates: #DisappearingActFrozen

Author’s Note: Thanks all for your very kind and prompt feedback on the first part! Please enjoy the second. The third act (of four total) will be released soon.

»»————-　❈　————-««

ii.

She flinched when she caught sight of him in the curtains’ shadow at the end of her act, taking a short, sharp inhale.

“Hans? I… wasn’t expecting to find you here,” she said, and pulled back the curtains a little. The light from backstage shined across his face, illuminating his olive eyes. “Usually, you’re—”

“In my dressing room, yes,” he finished, catching the wrist of her gloved hand in his. She stiffened in his grasp, and the air around them pulsated with cold, their exhalations visible in the dark. She relaxed only when he’d lowered both of their hands and stepped further into the light, his face red from the drop in temperature. “But I wanted to see you sooner tonight.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I see.” After a moment, she withdrew her hand from his, and stepped back. “We may as well go to my room, then. It’s nearer to here, and it’s… well, it’s more private.”

“Of course,” he said, and followed her out.

When they reached her room and she closed the door, she finally looked at him again, swallowing. Her normal pallor had yet to return as she lit a lamp. “So—what was it that brought you here early?”

Hans remained standing as he spoke. “Something that one of the men said last night about you was rather curious, and I thought I’d better ask you about it, instead of wondering on my own to no end.”

“Oh?” Elsa asked.

He moseyed over to her table and mirror, picking up one of the props she used sometimes during her act. It was a blue folding fan with silver snowflakes stenciled along the creases, and it glittered even under the dim light of the lamp. He opened and examined the fan at length before meeting her wary gaze.

“It matches your dress,” he said, gesturing at the blue and silver garment she wore during her performances, and which she was wearing then. “Where did you get it?”

She blinked. “Get what? The fan, or the dress?”

He shrugged. “Either. Both?”

“The fan I bought from a peddler some years ago and decorated myself, and the dress is—” She stopped and shook her head. “Why are you asking me these things, all of a sudden? I thought you were going to ask me about… whatever it is that one of the men told you about me.”

He feigned an apologetic expression. “Oh, yes, of course! I can be so forgetful sometimes, forgive me.” He placed the fan back on the table, leaning against it as he continued: “I’m sure you know Leif, the stage manager?”

She frowned. “Yes, of course. What about him?”

He glanced back at the fan, and then at the small rack upon which a number of other snow-themed props hung, including hats, feather boas, garments, and decorations. “Well, you see, Leif is rather convinced that your magic is not just some trick.” He fingered her fabric snowflake pin that rested against the mirror with interest. “He believes that your snow, and ice, and all the rest of it is actually… quite real.”

She stared at his hand on the pin. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” he replied, catching her stare. “He claims he’s seen it at work in… ‘mysterious ways,’ as he put it.”

Her stare narrowed. “Such as?”

“Oh, you know,” Hans said, “making the air go cold around you, making it snow in the middle of July over the entire fairgrounds, turning a live tiger into an ice sculpture—things like that.”

Elsa paled. “Those are just… just rumors,” she stammered. “Utter nonsense.”

“Are they?” he asked, standing tall as he drew closer to her. “I’ve certainly noticed a few odd things about you, myself.” He stopped just a few inches short from her nose and sighed, looking down at her hands clasped together in front of her ribcage. “For instance, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your gloves on when you’re not performing, Elsa. Why is that?”

“I could say the same about you, Hans,” she rejoined, “except that you also wear yours during your act.”

He held up his hands, still gloved, and nodded. “Indeed,” he agreed, and took each glove off, never breaking eye contact as he tossed them to the side, one after the other. Once bare, he held them up to her eye level. “But now you have, and you can see I have nothing to hide.”

She glared at him. “Your bare hands mean nothing,” she retorted, “let alone that you are honest and true, and that I am not by keeping mine covered.”

“Fine,” he said, “but at least I am willing to show you them. You’ve still not done the same.”

“And why should I?” she snapped. “I don’t have to prove anything to you, or to Leif, or to anyone else around here. All I have to do is keep bringing in the audiences and their cash, right? The rest is immaterial.” Her hands came to ball into fists at her sides. “You don’t understand me any better by seeing my damn hands, nor do I get anything from seeing yours.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when they reopened, there were tears welling at their corners. “You said being here was about ‘starting over,’ didn’t you? Well, I’ve just as much a right to that as anyone else, without being accused of creating snowstorms and freezing tigers and God knows what else.”

She covered her face with one of her palms, and began to shake. “But I know that’s asking too much—it’s always been asking too much. And that’s why—”

Elsa stopped, and Hans continued: “And that’s why you want to disappear.”

She shuddered.

“Yes.”

»» —— ««

“You never did say much about how you ended up here.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t ask me to share my secrets. Remember?”

“Of course I do. But… you do seem rather desperate to share them with me.”

“Desperate? By what measure?”

“Your vague and dramatic outlines of your life before you came here, for a start. I’m sure you didn’t simply appear one day as you are; I imagine you had a family as well, at some point.”

“Yes, well, that’s true. I had parents, like anyone else. And a sister. Her name was… Anna.”

“And are they still living? Anna, and your parents?”

“No. I’m the only one left.”

“But… if you really disappear, then—”

“Then we will all be gone.”

“Doesn’t that frighten you? Going into the unknown?”

“It did, once. Now, I long to go.”

»» —— ««

He stared at his hand of cards as if he could see straight through them into the dirt below, his lips set in an immovable line.

“Lovers’ spat?”

The question rose him from his daze. “What?”

The man who asked sat next to Leif in the poker circle, and tutted at Hans’s answer. “Don’t see you here for a week, and now you’re here every night the last three nights,” he expanded. “We figured you and the princess got into some sort of disagreement.”

Another man on Leif’s other side chimed in: “Yeah, didn’t seem like you had much else going on, Andersen. Haven’t seen you with the other girls in a long time. They must be boring compared to the Snow Queen, huh?”

Hans frowned. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’ve had no disagreements, agreements, or any sort of thing at all happen between us,” he said. “Clearly, I have other activities with which I can keep myself occupied—like beating you all at this game.”

He laid down a flush hand at this declaration, and the other men grumbled as they shoved over their loose change and bills. Leif was the last to comply, and then sat with a stiff back and crossed arms, puffing on a pipe and eyeing the younger man through a narrow gaze. “Better off here wasting your money, than hanging around that one,” he said.

“I don’t know about that, sir,” one of the younger stagehands cracked, grinning. “He’s been pulling in some pretty big crowds the last few nights. Maybe there’s something to her after all, if she’s managed to turn him into a decent magician.” His brow rose as his grin widened. “Or maybe that’s why you’ve come back here, eh, Andersen? The missus is probably put out with you for stealing her audience.”

“It’s true—I’ve been watching his act lately, and it’s been damn near impossible to try to figure out how he’s pulled off some of those tricks,” said another man, scratching his stubbled chin. “I haven’t seen people so excited about a missing rabbit since the one my Ma tried to cook for supper ran off.”

The men laughed at this, and Hans’s frown deepened. “While I find your faith in my abilities truly touching, gentlemen,” he drawled, “I think I’ve had enough praise for one night. So if you all don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”

“Fine by me,” said the first man. “I’m tired of losing money, anyway.”

The others nodded and grunted in assent, drawing another eyeroll from Hans. Leif observed the exchange with an ever-present glower, and finally said: “Don’t press your luck, boy.”

The younger man returned the remark with a thin smile. “Too late—I’ve already done that. That’s how I ended up here in the first place.”

In the silence following his reply, he walked away—but not before Leif’s heavy hand had fallen on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks just by the entryway.

Hans frowned. “What do you want now, old man?”

“Now listen,” the older man began; then, he grew quiet, and his glower softened for a brief moment. He continued in a brusque, but quieter way. “Whatever’s happened between the two of you, it’s best to continue not seeing her.”

“Yes, she’s ‘bad luck’ and can suffocate me with snowflakes—you’ve already told me that,” Hans snapped, rolling his eyes.

Leif glared at him. “It’s no laughing matter. Whatever she told you – that we’re all liars, that none of the rumors are true – you must know that one with such magic as hers cannot be trusted. She will keep your company until she’s tired of you, and then she will hurt you.”

Hans brushed Leif’s hand off his shoulder. “Big words coming from a man who probably hasn’t spoken more than two words to her in all the time she’s been here,” he said. “Don’t pretend that your old wives’ tales and carnie superstitions can substitute for actually knowing someone. The truth is this: you don’t know why she’s here, what she’s capable of, what she’s afraid of, or who she even is.”

Leif’s chin lifted at this assertion, and then he stuck his hands back in his pants pockets as he grunted, shaking his head. He shot the younger man one last, meaningful look, and asked:

“Do you?”

»» —— ««

Hans didn’t reply, and returned to his dressing room with a fierce scowl. Once inside, he slammed the door shut, sat on a worn armchair, and took off his gloves. After a moment of rest, he reached inside the pocket of his waistcoat, exhaling once he retrieved its contents.

In the palm of his hand laid her snowflake pin.

»» —— ««

She saw a light under his door late in the evening and paused, raising a hand to knock on it… only for it to open of its own accord. She lowered her hand and stepped in, giving him a slight nod as she did.

“You don’t usually come by so late, Elsa.”

She didn’t sit. “No. But it’s been some time since I last visited, and…” she trailed off. “I wouldn’t usually come by when I know you’re out playing cards. But I overheard some of the boys saying backstage that you’d missed the last few games, and I thought—well, I guessed I’d see you here.”

“You guessed right,” Hans said, turning the knob on the lamp so it burned brighter. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here so late.”

She reddened. “I saw your act tonight. It was… very impressive.”

“Oh?” he asked, and set himself down on the chair closest to his small table of props and other knick knacks. He rolled up his sleeves, and when a card popped out of one, he flicked it to the side. “And what was your favorite part?”

Elsa glanced at the discarded card, and then back at him. “The doves,” she answered. “The way you transformed them from handkerchiefs, and flames, and paper cranes into real birds—that was something else.” Her gaze was pointed. “I think there was even a snowflake that turned into a dove, if I remember correctly.”

He met her look without surprise. “Ah, yes. A snowflake,” he said, and pulled the fabric pin from his pant pocket. “Was it this one?”

Her lips were thin. “Why, yes. I think it was.” She walked closer towards him, craning over his seated figure. After a moment, she sighed and crossed her arms, leaning against the table. “You know, if you wanted to borrow one of my things for your performance, you could’ve just asked me for it.” She frowned. “I know we had something of a… disagreement the last time we spoke, but I didn’t think it was bad enough that you would shut me out for a week—”

“‘Shut you out’? Hardly,” Hans interrupted, his fingers curling around the pin. “As you’ve seen for yourself, I’ve been hard at work improving my craft.” He let it fall from his hand in the next moment, tapping the tabletop. “I don’t have the time, nor the desire, to be so petty as to ignore you on purpose.”

“Were you upset by what I said?”

He froze at the question, then waved it away. “I don’t even remember what we talked about.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I remember it all very well, and I know you do, too.”

“Then what is it you said that you think upset me so much that I’ve been avoiding you?” he asked, matching her crossed arms with his own. “Please jog my memory, since I clearly can’t remember what you want me to.”

She glared at him. “You asked me about my past—about my family,” she said. “You asked if I was frightened by the thought of disappearing from this world, as they did.” She leaned in close until she could see his cheeks flush with color. “I told you I wasn’t.”

He cleared his throat and clicked his tongue. “And why do you think I was upset by that?”

She drew back, shrugging. “I don’t know for sure. It’s just an educated guess.” Her brow lifted. “After all, I don’t know enough about you to understand why it might be upsetting.”

“… is that your way of asking me to tell you more about myself?” Hans replied at length.

Elsa answered with a half-nod. “More or less. But only if you want to.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked.

“Then you don’t,” she said, “and I wouldn’t force you to. But even if you don’t want to, I would just ask you… not to shut me out again.” She looked away for a moment. “I can’t stand it.”

He was quiet for a while, and then sighed.

“What is it that you want to know?”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “The one thing you’ve never told me: why you’re here.”

He rested his forehead on his palm, and closed his eyes. “That’s a long story, Elsa.”

She pulled up another chair from a corner of the room until she sat opposite him, and cocked her head to the side.

“I’d like to hear it.”