#gotta list em all here for myself hang on:

[non-un-topo]

I have roughly 9 assignments due in the next 4 weeks, why am I not losing my mind?

[madaboutmunson]

The Drive-In Part 6

Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Links to all Parts | AO3 Link

Taglist: @2btheanswertothequestion

Eddie tries to get to a sitting position with an uncomfortable hiss and grimaces in pain. Steve leans over to help him, and Eddie eventually sits up and shuffles back against the van wheel.

"Yeah, nothing I'm not used to. Just need a few minutes, is all." Eddie says, trying to catch his breath and get some sort of comfortable.

Steve sits on the ground at a right angle to him.

"Shit," Eddie sighs, turning to Steve, "Did they get my eye? The pain is kinda all over, and, honestly, I can't bring myself to look" Eddie looks up at the side mirror above him, "Even if I wanted to," he huffs out a laugh, reaching for his jacket he pulls out a pack of cigarettes takes one for himself and offers the box to Steve.

This time, Steve takes one and offers Eddie a weak sympathetic smile. Eddie smiles back, shutting one eye from the pain of doing so. Steve thinks.

"Glad to see you don't think I've got cooties," Eddie jokes, offering Steve his lighter.

Steve looks guiltily at the floor and looks back up at Eddie, and gently takes the lighter.

"Your eyes are perfect."

Fuck, that came out wrong.

"I mean, they are fine...you know...unharmed."

Jesus Christ, Steve.

Eddie looks up at him with raised eyebrows, wide-eyed, trying to hold in a laugh, which eventually he snorts out, and nods.

"I got it. Thanks. At least that means my Uncle won't be on my case about it. He specifically said, " One more black eye," and I'm gonna hold him to that verbal contract," Eddie says, taking a drag on his cigarette.

The fact that they had been chasing Eddie around a drive-in sure that made Steve suspicious that this wasn't just a one-off, and Eddie was weird, likes weird things, and dressed strangely, so of course, he was going to get picked on, but Steve hadn't thought it would be so bad someone had to use the term "one more black eye."

Steve lights his cigarette and hands the lighter back to Eddie. He notices a familiar shape on it. It's half one of those strange dice stuck to the side of it. He's seen Dustin and the kids with them.

"It was meant to be a graduation gift, but um...yeah...I didn't quite make it, but they gave it to me anyway," Eddie mutters awkwardly, as he's obviously caught Steve staring and thumbing at it.

"I've seen one of these before. The kids I hang- babysit sometimes have them, for some kind of game, a buncha names...er...Dee Andy or something?" Steve tries to remember.

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth like he's trying to hold something back, "Yeah, it's called Dungeons and Dragons, D and D for short, like you said" Eddie gives him a half smile back.

Steve feels a little embarrassed having got it wrong, but Eddie had misheard him and thought he'd said the correct thing.

"So...um...thanks for dealing with those fucking ogres." Eddie's smile slips into a slight frown. "I could take 'em, you know, one on one, but as soon as they figured that out, they started turning up in packs" Eddie looks down at the ground, and a flush of embarrassment stains his non-punched cheek.

Steve did not want to add to Eddie's list of failings today, so he decides to bend the truth a little.

Steve snorts out a false laugh, "You think I took on all of them?! No. No way." Steve inhales at his cigarette, "If you must know, I came back here to offer you a ride...home." Steve adds quickly, "Because I kinda felt like an asshole, and then I looked over here, and you were messing around with the van. They saw me coming and ran away, man."

Eddie, still looking at the ground, nods his head, "Well, in that case, I guess. Thank you for being an asshole?" A small smile reappears on his face as he looks up at Steve.

Steve can't resist a big smile back and a laugh, "Yeah, well, everyone has gotta be good at something, I guess."

Eddie chuckles quietly and holds his side.

Steve gestures at Eddie's van, "So what happened with your date?"

"Date?" Eddie laughs. "I didn't come here with a date. I came here to watch a weird ass movie with an amazing soundtrack and get stoned out of my gourd" Eddie suddenly stops speaking and takes a small intake of breath, "At the risk of ruining this buddy moment we're having here, Harrington...what happened with your date?" Eddie asks carefully.

Steve looks up at him again, wondering if he could say something. Eddie seemed to have easily let his own guard down with him. Maybe he could do the same. Steve didn't really tend to do that with anyone other than Robin, but there were just some things she wasn't going to understand right now. Like, Steve understood how Robin's dating predicaments were way more complex than his could ever be, but that meant he had no one to talk to about it without getting shut down or told to stop whining.

Steve takes a chance.

"Well, honestly, I don't actually know what happened. I thought everything was going well, you know. Then she just kinda excused herself, was gone for a while, so I thought I'd go check on her, and found her with her recently dumped friend, who, you know, then that became her evening priority, or whatever." Steve rambles quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

He hears Eddie take a slight intake of breath, "Ouch, dude. The old, oh look, my friends are already here, and oh no, an emergency routine. Fuck, I thought you'd got a little too handsy with her or something, shit" Eddie shakes his head.

Steve furrows his brow and quickly turns to Eddie, leaning in. Clearly, Eddie knew something about this situation Steve didn't, "What do you mean, routine?"

Eddie's eyebrows raise again, "Oh, you don't know?" Then he nods and tilts his head, "Of course, you don't know. You're King fucking Steve" Eddie smiles and takes out another cigarette, lights it, and offers one to Steve again, but Steve waves it away, hungry for this secret knowledge.

Eddie readjusts how he's sitting and begins, using his hands to emphasize his words, like someone telling a scary story around a campfire.

"Well, for reasons that will become apparent very quickly, I am very familiar with this routine. Basically, it's all pre-set up, see. The girl has a date with you, but for some reason, she wants an escape plan. So like, in my case, they probably think I'm gonna, I dunno, sacrifice them to a demon or something. So she arranged with her friends for them to be in the vicinity. They arrange a time, meet up, discuss how the date is going, and decide a plan of action from there. I'd say, in my experience, they always bail, but how many of these meet-ups do I miss, you know? Like, I only know they are having their little meeting because I end up worried and going to find her, right? And lo and behold, there they are huddled around, plotting their next steps" Eddie shakes his head and pats Steve on the shoulder, "You've probably passed the test of every one until this evening, Harrington. Or maybe they felt so safe with you they didn't even set one up. I'd say that's a pretty good record for the number of people the rumor mill says you've dated" Eddie leans back against the wheel and takes a drag on his cigarette.

Steve's eyes are wide at this information as he says slowly in awe, almost, "That's exactly...that's exactly what happened!" Steve throws his hands in the air and lets them land back in his lap with an audible slap, "Unbelievable!" Steve scoffs and folds his arms.

"Congratulations on your first taste of the other side, my friend," Eddie adds like he's some kind of veteran.

Steve stews over this new information leaving them in silence for a few minutes until Steve can hold it in no longer and leans forward, angrily whispering, "If anything, I wasn't handsy enough for that little pervert!"

The comment surprises Eddie so much that he starts choking on his smoke, "Jesus Christ, Harrington. A little warning, yeah?" Eddie tries to say it with a straight face, but in no time at all, he's laughing, with an occasional ow as he holds his ribs.

But Steve isn't done, not by a long shot, "And you know what? I did the research. I found a film with a long run-time, I found the busiest night of the week, I got this stupid necklace thing she said would look hot on me" Steve reaches up and pretty much rips it from his neck and tosses it into the night, "And I am a good guy, Munson. I didn't even care if anything physical happened tonight with her or not. That's what she wanted!!!" Steve glances over at Eddie quickly to check if he's looking at him like he's less of a man because he didn't just want to get a home run tonight.

But Eddie isn't judging him. He's cackling. He's laughing so very hard, gasping for air, clutching his sides, little tears escaping those now crinkled at the edges big brown eyes. But for once, Steve doesn't feel like he's being laughed at, like he's the butt of the joke when relaying his problems. He feels like Eddie is laughing with him.

Eddie lets out a sigh and inhales deeply, trying to get back to normality, "Sorry, man. I just...I dunno...I didn't expect it is all. Well, at least you got to watch a classic undisturbed."

Steve points his hand sharply at the now blank movie screen, "Munson, seriously? YOU disturbed me. That aside. You actually think I wanted to watch this...this...I don't even know what it was, ok? It was weird and loud, and fucking, what were those things? You know what, don't even tell me I don't want to know, ok? It's hours of my life I'll never get back!!" Steve states loudly in annoyance. He has quite forgotten there is anyone here but the two of them until a car horn beeps a few times in the distance, "And you can shut the fuck up too!" Steve shouts in its general direction before looking back at a crumpled in a ball, laughing Eddie.

Steve feels a big smile spread across his face, and a few laughs fight their way out of his own mouth. Eddie's cackling was so infectious. Maybe Steve just needed to laugh.

Eddie sighs again, in-between giggles, manages, "Well, good job I turned up in your car when I did. Otherwise, your night would have been completely devoid of entertainment" Eddie wipes a few stray tears of laughter from his face, "Sorry, man. I wasn't laughing at you. It was just. It was amusing for me not to be the one ranting about shit, is all."

"After the night you've had, I think I can let it slide" Steve turns and smiles happily at Eddie.

Eddie stares at him for a moment, and Steve worries he has something on his face or in his hair and has a frantic wipe at them with his hand.

Eddie turns away and says, "You know something, Harrington. You aren't as much of an asshole as I thought you'd be. You're kind of....just the right amount."

Steve, still looking at him, says, "And you are much smarter than I thought possible. What else do you know that I don't, huh?"

Eddie gulps, and Steve realizes he's probably dying of thirst, having been face down in the dust and then sitting here chain-smoking. Steve looks around for a soda or something, finds a grubby water bottle, and hands it to Eddie.

"Thanks, but um, this is for the van. As for what else I know about dating problems, well, you've definitely come to the right place, but honestly, after the night I've had, I do not wanna go trawling through that swamp of misery without some herbal assistance." Eddie half smiles and puts his fingers to his lips in a smoking gesture, "What do you say, Harrington, wanna get high?"

Steve thinks about it for a moment. This van was clearly going nowhere this evening. He was inevitably going to have to give Eddie a ride home in any case, he was curious about what else Eddie knew, and he had been having a lot of fun talking to him just now, despite the mistakes earlier in the evening.

"You know what, sure, but not here. We could go to my place? I got a fridge full of beers and a freezer full of hot pockets, and no one to share them with. Or I can just drop you off home?" Steve shrugs outwardly. Inwardly it felt like a dangerous ask, but he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe getting a hang-out rejected by the town freak would be too much for him to handle.

"Absolutely not," Eddie says matter-of-factly, and Steve's stomach plummets into the depths of the earth's core. His confidence was really going through the mill tonight.

"I do not wanna face my Uncle with no van and these fucking injuries. He'll be knocking on doors all fucking night" Steve snaps his head hopefully towards Eddie, who he realizes is trying to push himself up to standing using the wheel arch and then the door.

Steve moves to help him up, and Eddie pushes down onto Steve's shoulder for support.

Once he's upright, he's pottering through some stuff in the van, Steve steps away and runs his hand through his hair, saying maybe a little excitedly, "So yeah, why don't you get all your shit together, and  I'll bring the car around, yeah?"

Eddie looks over his shoulder at Steve with a confused but amused look on his face, "Sure, yeah"

Steve takes a light jog back to his car. Once back seated in the driver's seat, he flips down the mirror and checks his face and hair before making eye contact with himself in it.

What was that? What is this? Why was he preening? Jesus Christ! Some kind of fucking autopilot for inviting someone to his house because he's so used to having it be some girl he's hoping to date or currently dating.

Steve starts the car and drives it around to the van. Eddie is just slamming the driver's side shut and locking it before he places a kiss on his hand and presses it against the van.

Little weirdo, Steve thinks to himself.

Now dressed again in his multi-layers and his little black lunchbox in hand, Steve moves the car, so he doesn't have to walk but a few steps to get in.

Eddie plops himself down into the seat and closes the door.

Steve gives him a few seconds before looking at him intently, but Eddie looks like he's completely zoned out. "Seat belt, please."

Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin, "Oh shit, yeah. Sorry, man," He quickly clips his seat belt in and looks back at Steve with a smile, "Onward to Chateau Harrington, driver," Eddie says in a pompous voice.

[novaalexanderwrites]

Blood and Thorns - Chapter 1 (part 1)

Chapter 1 (Part One):  Chores and Nightmares (See here for a complete list of chapters) **Updated May 16 **Updated August 26

Frigga Thorneheart is set to become the heir of the Honeyshore coven, but when she falls in love with a member of her home's staff, things get out of hand. Between the blood pacts and secret affairs, Frigga needs to learn how to stand up for what she wants or else lose everything she needs. Will she choose love or duty and what will that choice cost her?

Razi

   If there was one thing Razi Wood was sure of it was that rich people were the worst, especially if those rich people were witches. She would know because Honeyshore, the breezy port town in which she lived and worked, was full of them. It sat on the Ozelean coast and, as a port town that hosted a nationally respected coven, was a hub of trade and immigration. A mere week previous had seen the last of the rainy season, so today saw Honeyshore bustling and as lively as it ever was with ships coming into port with exotic goods and merchants selling local wares in the town square markets.    Razi, a strapping young woman of five and twenty, ducked through the crowds as she rushed towards her first destination of the day. If she’d paused to respectfully watch a pair of young women with their laundry baskets perched on their gods-granted shapely hips, she could hardly be blamed. It was rare she got to mingle in town during the daytime as she was usually busy back at the manor doing groundwork or repair work of some kind, but today? Today she had been asked to pick up a number of goods for her employer, Lady Sapphire Thorneheart, and Razi was going to make the most of it.    First thing first: Angela. Or rather, the dressmaker’s.

   She dodged a horse and carriage and stepped into the small shop, her well-loved work boots clomping against its tile, and a little bell jangled to announce her entry. “Good mornin’, Angela!” she greeted with a small smirk tugging at her full lips, the one she knew made all her girls swoon. “Fancy meeting you here!”    The blonde woman behind the counter looked up from her work, some kind of embroidery, and greeted Razi with a grin. “Good morning to you too, tall, dark and handsome! Here for the Thornehearts?” Bolts of fabric and miscellaneous goods imported from distant cities surrounded her, but she in all her pink skirts and painted red lips was the only thing in the shop Razi had any personal interest in.    She leaned her elbow on the counter and pressed her calloused index to the pretty woman’s chin, dropping her voice to a low hum. “You’re so smart, how’d you guess?”    Angela rolled her eyes fondly and retreated. “Hang on,” she commanded before disappearing into the back.    The quiet store was a miniature version of the port; brightly lit, rustic stone walls and floors, and a hint of magic lingering about it; A needle darned socks independently in the back corner, glowing orbs the size of dinner plates floated throughout the room to light it, and the scent of baked apple pie floated delicately in the air. It was as old as the other buildings of Honeyshore, but it never seemed to leak during the stormy season. Razi wandered near a window and spied a rag wiping down glass panes in the tiny flower shop across the street. “Gotta get me one of those,” she muttered to herself before calling out, “Oi, Angie, your neighbours got new magic stuff?”     “What?” was the confused reply, muffled by the thick velvet curtain separating the store from the back room.    “Your neighbour’s got a rag doing boring stuff for ‘em. It new?”    “Oh, that!” Angela said as she strained with something heavy. “Madam Downspire’s sent all the stores on the block some of those to test out. What d’you need a magic rag for?”    “Would rather do more interestin’ tasks, you know? I’d rather fix a leaky faucet or run errands than wipe a window. Might as well outsource to a magic item an’ save myself th’ elbow grease.”    Angela returned with two packages and hoisted them onto the counter with a grunt. One of the packages was a soft bundle wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied up with twine, the other was a sturdy black paper box with a removable red lid. “Is ‘running errands’ your fancy way of sayin’ ‘flirting with girls’? Where are you going next, the bakery or the winery?”    Razi flopped onto a chair across the room. “Gotta do my part, spread my good will an’ support th’ economy! Can’t disappoint Darcie and Liz, don’ be selfish.”    The seamstress grinned, made her way to her guest, and seized the opportunity to plop herself down in the muscular woman’s lap. “You’re so full of it.” She playfully touched a finger to Razi’s nose and stuck out her tongue. “Will I see you Friday night? At the pub?” She ran her hands through Razi’s short black hair, scratching at her buzzed sides.    Razi preened and let her hand play at Angela’s skirt hem while locking eyes with the woman in her lap. “Y’know I wouldn’t miss it, darlin’, not if it means missin’ out on you.”    Angela shook her head. “Charmer,” she was about to place a quick kiss on Razi’s cheek, but the groundswoman inched away.    “Nah, don’ want that,” she gestured to Angela’s lip paint, “all o’er my face. That stuff can’t be good for you.”    “I think you’d look good with a bit,” Angela teased.    Razi snorted. “You wan’ dress me up in your frocks too? Think it’d suit me?” She draped the woman’s pink skirt across her own knees, clothed in worn black canvas trousers tucked into steel-toed work boots, to demonstrate how entirely ridiculous the idea was.    “I don’t think this one’s your colour, Raza, and I don’t think my dress would fit you either, your arms are so…” She ran one of her hands over Razi’s dark, sculpted biceps. “But I’ll make you a matching suit, if you’d like.”    That sounded more up Razi’s alley. “Could do. I’ll need a suit for our weddin’, right?”    “Asking me to marry you again, Raza? What is that, the third time this month?” Angela giggled and placed a quick kiss on Razi’s lips before the woman could protest and stood to drop the packages in her lap. “But about Friday,” she said as she wandered back to her embroidery work behind the wooden counter. “You better come.”    Razi wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and wiped it on her trousers. Why had she opted for sleeveless today? And where was her kerchief? Angela always pulled that trick, Razi should have seen it coming. “S’that why you want me hikin’ all th’ way down that hill? Could’a jus’ said so, you know I’ll come for you any time.”    “You’re terrible,” Angela reproofed with a scoff but her eyes settled squarely on Razi’s broad hands.    Razi stood up, gathered up her packages under one arm, and rested them on her hip. “I’ll be there, Bill owes me a drink.”    “Didn’t you cheat him out of it, Raza?”    “I would never.”    “Bullshit! What would Lady Thorneheart say?”    “I don’ think she cares ‘bout us wee plebs, darlin’. ’S long as there’s bread on th’ table and her carriage goes, I’ll be in ‘er good books.” The pair laughed and said their goodbyes, and Angela made Razi promise again to make an appearance on Friday. That kind of ego stroke was addictive, but Razi knew when to back off.    After all, she still had Darcie and Elizabeth and Maria to visit.    As she made her way through the streets, Razi wove in and out of the foot traffic, occasionally avoiding a carriage or wagon. There was more commotion than usual with the Thorneheart Heir Apparent returning home from school after three years. Or was it four? Sapphire Thorneheart had spared no expense to prepare her home for her Heir Apparent’s return which had meant new landscaping, new furnishings, a whole new wardrobe for her niece, even some of the books in the family library got re-bound several months ago. Some of those coven books were over a hundred years old and had curses on them. It was a lot of trouble for a journal, but it was a central piece of the coven’s history. Razi remembered the tirade Lady Thorneheart had assaulted the craftspeople with, and it still gave her the shivers.    Luckily, Razi didn’t have to directly interact with her employer often, but when she did it was a humbling experience. She was intimidating as hell, even if she was never anything but gracious to her own staff. Usually, she gave her orders to Gertrude, the household manager, who would distribute the tasks and chores for the day. Razi was usually in the kitchens or on the grounds, those broad shoulders of hers weren’t merely for show after all, and her occasional trips into town to run errands were always a nice change of pace. Working for rich witches had its benefits, she had to admit.    Razi rushed past store windows and fruit stands, dipping into the bakery to drop off next week’s order of grains and stopping by the winemaker’s to convey Lady Thorneheart’s request for the custom blend for the next full moon, before coming to her final and favourite stop, the pub. Normally she’d visit in the evenings, but today she was here on business. Passing through the well-worn door, the bell and squeaky floorboards announced her arrival.    The man behind the hardwood bar waved at her as he wiped the surface with a rag. He was an older gentleman, greying and homely, and he’d run the Mead and Magic Pub for thirty years, almost as long as Sapphire Thorneheart had been the coven’s leader. “Hey Wood,” he barked with his affectionately gruff voice, “here for the Thorneheart’s?”    A few men in the pub greeted Razi enthusiastically, and she nodded in their direction. “Hey boys. Hi Geoff. Yeah, I’m here for th’ thing, you got it?”    Geoff pulled out a small box from under the counter. “Yeah, it’s for the lady, for the next coven meet I hear. Hey, isn’t her niece comin’ back today?”    Razi nodded, sliding up to the bar, setting her burden on the counter. “Yeah, but not clear what the fuss is about, honestly. Just another silk-stockin’, I imagine. But hey, work’s work, right?    “For sure,” the man nodded solemnly. “What’s the girls name? Ferdinand? Faloma?”    “Frigga, I think.”    “Ah yeah, tha’s right, I remember her. She was sweet as silk that girl.”    “That’s not the saying, Geoff.”    The man laughed and Razi snickered along with him. “Got me there.”    Razi shrugged. “They’re all fine ’til you get to know ‘em, tha’s when you find out what kinda asshole they are. They’re all assholes at the end of the day, am I right?” She gestured to the other patrons, rewarded with a “hear, hear” and a “cheers” along with some wolf whistling and Razi chuckled before turning back to Geoff victoriously.    “Assholes what pay you,” Geoff said with his tone of friendly disapproval, “and half of town.”    Razi deadpanned at him. “The ol’ lady made me fix th’ carriage after tha’ last rain. Downright nasty, should be gettin’ a raise, mark my words. And I had to redo the hedges that got put in las’ month that I was so sure was right, but no, ‘parently not. Those lavender bushes were gorgeous so I’m bit bitter about it, gimme a break.”    He nodded with sage understanding. “Fair, fair. Anyway, Wood, can we expect y’on Friday? George and the other guys were saying they wanted to do poker night again.”    “After last time I’da thought they’d reconsider.”    “You know George, never knows when t’ quit.”    “William owes me, I think Jack does too. I’m not gon’ make it home in one piece, I think. I’ll have t’ sleep under the table I’ll be so sloshed.” Razi winced at the prospect of making the twenty minute uphill walk in such a sorry state. She’d do it if only to prove a point, but she wouldn’t enjoy it.    “You comin’?”    Razi sighed and made a big show of it. “Yeah, I guess. Angela’s already demanded I make an appearance.”    The man’s expression turned soft and his voice did too. “Never could say no t’ that woman, eh? You ever gon’ marry her?”    Razi shrugged and rolled her eyes at the old man’s presumption. “Nah, but she’s sweet on me, so I can’t jus’ break her heart, right?”    “Hers an ev’ry other single lass of your persuasion in town, Wood.” He chuckled lightly and then playfully waved his rag in her direction. “Off with ye, shouldn’t be late for homecomin’.”    Razi added the last package to her bundle, grinning at his remark. “Thanks a lot, see you Friday!”    She walked to Thorneheart Manor from town, and her arms tired from hauling her goods. That was her own fault; she’d declined a ride in the house’s carriage earlier, opting to take her time and enjoy some peace and quiet on the walks to and from. This time of year after the rains was the best; the green fields burst with wildflowers, a crisp breeze swept in from the sea, and it was warm enough that Razi didn’t need to bother herself with layers. She even left her regular work jacket at home, this morning had been particularly warm and Razi was soaking it up.    It wasn’t long before she returned to Thorneheart Manor, the estate where she worked and lived. The home was one of the largest in Honeyshore, save for the coven’s benefactors. Most of the coven’s nine families lived in town, but the Thornehearts lived just outside it in exactly the type of home that befit such a powerful family. The house itself was three stories high, made of the white stone that only the best-made buildings in town were made of, and was surrounded by fields, walks and ponds with a forest bordering the property. Inside, the walls were white as were the marble floors, and the many large windows ensured the home was always brightly lit. The lady of the house had bouquets of flowers brought in to adorn every surface, so now it smelled like spring inside as well as out. Frigga’s room had been redone too, updated with new linens and furniture. She hadn’t been there for nearly four years and would be an official adult at the end of next month. It needed to be fit for someone on who so many expectations would be placed. Apparently. What that had to do with the wallpaper getting updated, Razi wasn’t sure. “Something something, only the best for my Heir, something or other, Frigga will love it,” the old lady had said. Whatever.    Razi had been on staff before Frigga had gone away to school, but she hadn’t interacted with the heiress at all. The girl was a bookworm, opting to stay in the library most afternoons, and Razi had always been in the kitchen at the time. She didn’t expect that to change; Razi had since graduated from the kitchens to the grounds for the most part and, as far as she could tell, being a scholar was a prerequisite for these witches so Frigga likely wouldn’t be outside much. Razi hadn’t made up her mind to dislike the girl (woman? How old was she?), but in her own experience the more magic met money, the larger the stick up the ass was. Thankfully, Razi didn’t have to mingle with the family much being the work horse so she could focus on her chores and her own business. It was good money and a stable life, so if she was serving bread to some spoiled witches it wouldn’t affect her sleep at night.    Not that she wasn’t a little curious. Clearly Razi was not immune to the guile of a pretty girl, so there was that, but she wasn’t as enthusiastic as most of the other ladies on staff. Gertrude was ecstatic about Frigga’s return and would go on and on about how she was excited to see how the girl had grown into a woman and whatever. She was expected home that afternoon, maybe even within the hour, which meant the servants of the home were scrambling to get the place ready to welcome their newest resident back home. When Razi returned with her parcels, the house was bustling with last-minute preparations being completed and it sparked her curiosity. It might be interesting to have another person around, even if it wasn’t likely to affect her much. Maybe her presence would tame Doris’ rabid gossiping and give that ridiculous woman something to do, that would be worth the added work on its own. But probably not, the woman was a menace.    She dropped off the packages to their respective recipients before making her way into the kitchen. Razi would be off work in a few hours, she always worked the early morning shift for bread reasons, and she would spend the rest of her day getting the family dinner together and dealing with kitchen inventory if there wasn’t any major tasks to be done. Just another ordinary day. Would the returning witch want tea? That was more Doris’ responsibility, but Razi put a kettle on to boil anyway.    As she carried out her inventory survey, the distant sound of a carriage rattled and excited whispers shivered through the house. Gertrude and Doris bolted out of the kitchen at speeds previously unseen to greet the newest addition. It wasn’t mandatory for staff to greet Frigga, but curiosity got the better of Razi so off she went to sneak a peek at all the commotion. Maybe she was cute.    The kitchen was tucked near to the main entrance and staircase, and Razi leaned on the kitchen’s doorframe to see what she wanted but stayed out of the chaos. Doris and Gertrude stood alongside a few other staff members at the foot of the staircase, chatting quietly amongst themselves.    The door opened, and Frigga was home.    She was a lot shorter than Razi had expected, hadn’t grown a single inch during her time away, and was full around the centre with narrow shoulders. Her fiery curls were tucked into a practical yet elegant braid behind her, her charming smile lit up her rosy freckled skin, and she giggled as Gertrude attacked her with hugs. She was pretty tired, travelling does that Razi supposed, but even so Frigga asked about Gertrude’s husband and daughter and after Stephan’s cat. It was nice to see a noble remember such details about staff members as it was rare aristocrats gave a shit about anything other than themselves.    Razi could see what the fuss was about then. Frigga seemed sweet, and she was pretty cute, but the groundswoman had enough excitement so she silently returned to the kitchen. That pantry wasn’t going to count itself.

[jackalope-with-a-pen]

ok hi! pinned post time, since I'm finally using this blog a bit!

I'm Jack (or JT, or Jackalope) and I've been writing for most of my life but I really haven't shared much yet. hoping to change that soon, though! hence this blog. :]

I have WAY too many ideas and WIPs to list 'em all, but here are a few of the writing projects I am currently focusing on...

A Tale Of Two Spies (And Some Other People) (Many Of Whom Are Also Spies)

...or ATOTS(ASOP)(MOWAAS) for short, lmao. It's the first fanfic I ever started writing; I was lowkey too intimidated to try writing fanfic for a long time, but this idea sank its teeth into me and I had to give it a shot. It's an alternate version of the Tin Can Brothers' epic musical Spies Are Forever. I've been working on it for a good while now and it has ballooned into quite a massive undertaking because I am... deranged. <3

Part one, The World's Greatest Spies, is a prequel. It will cover the span of time & our favorite agents' changing relationship from their first meeting to the beginning of the musical. I have MOST of it outlined, and I'm really having a lot of fun with it!!!

111 Waylon

Another fanfic, but this one is for Starkid's Hatchetfield universe! It's heavily inspired by I The Mighty's song "111 Winchester."

111 Waylon is just about fully outlined with 12 chapters, and it will be much shorter and quicker to write than ATOTS, lol. I'm actually going to start writing the first draft very soon! (like... tomorrow. 👁)

This story is about the night some of the popular teens from Hatchetfield High decided to hang out at an old creepy house that definitely isn't haunted and definitely isn't dangerous. Everything is gonna be fine, no need to worry. <3

The Necromancer & The Musician

This is an original work! It also doesn't have a real title yet, even though I've been working on it for almost a year lmao. help. I've done SO MUCH worldbuilding, including designing an entire glyph alphabet for my sneaky secretive necromancers to write all their sneaky secrets in, and I've been having an absolute blast with it all.

The characters in this story mean the world to me, especially the two leads: Zadock Severine (the antisocial necromancer who is Perfectly Content with their life as it is, thankyouverymuch) and Everett Flair (the overly friendly musician who likes to wander and is always on the look for his next fun experience). The two are brought together through the meddling of the nosy god Death (who gave Zadock their magic and is a little too invested in their social life) and become unlikely traveling companions. Oh, and they're both trans and aromantic. 😎

If you'd like to know more about my stories, feel free to send me some asks about 'em!

No guarantees I'll answer every question (gotta keep some things to myself! 😘) but I'd love to share what I can.

[detroitbecomeonline]

DBH MODDING (1) - HOW I MADE JUICY

Hi everyone :) I'm going to start a lil mod diary because I'm trying my best to learn how to do stuff with like, 0 prior understanding. I'm writing everything I find out because frankly, I can't find info like this elsewhere. I have to figure everything out myself. If you're like me, and have no experience or knowledge in manual modding what-so-ever, I hope this series of entries will help you! If anyone has any information or extra points, PLEASE say something lol. If I'm wrong, I'm begging you to correct me!!!

It's currently 30/12/2022 and for the last 3 days, I've been looking at modstuffs for Detroit: Become Human. I started with the browser model swapper and successfully located the game file it needs. For me, I downloaded DBH through Steam, so I go the HDD (where I keep my Steam stuff) > steamapps > common > Detroit Become Human > and the file will be in the list of BigFiles. HOWEVER I made a new folder just on my HDD called "Original BigFile_PC idx" and copied and pasted the original file into there so if anything breaks, I can just plug my original back in.

That's how I can get shots like this, because I swapped Connor's game model for North's:

I have been hanging out in a DBH modding server, and they're talking words my uneducated ass can hardly understand. But what I have picked up is this:

Mokit is like, movement capture? Like how Bryan explained that the little dots on his face capture the actors movement. And there are a bunch of cameras and stuff. idk here's a YouTube vid. So anyway these movements are saved in files and you can switch mokits with characters.

Pretty sure points on mokits are labelled or something, because in the model swapper, an elbow is an elbow, whether you're North or Sumo.

And so also in the model swapper, you can switch out these files. I have no idea how to do this manually. I haven't experimented with the mokit swaps yet anyway.

After that, I downloaded the Custom Texture Tool (also found in More Tools) and yesterday I cracked it open. Here's what it looks like upon opening:

I locate my game through HDD > steam > steamapps > common > Detroit Become Human. Then this all comes up on the left:

And I'm like dang. I have no idea what any of this does, but what's really cool is that I can see which files are attributed to which BigFile (which I previously couldn't open). Immediately I go for the catalogue, because SURELY that's where the textures live. It looks like this when I open up the Catalogue tab.

I chilled out and browsed the files for a bit before searching for Connor. I really liked how these files are named just because of story structure and specific scenes. It makes so much sense, thank you CONNOR_INTO2.

So rn I can't view a lot of files and I didn't quite understand why, but after a quick Google, it's because you need a specific program to grab em. But anyway, you see that black-red-green-blue square in the third row fifth column in the screenshot? I was like oh man. I know what THIS is for. I export the DDS file (I save the image) and it opens up in PAINT DOT NET. so im like ok ok i'll do it. I gotta.

Using Common Sense, I swatch the red and the green and I keep the text in the parameters of where the old text was so that it goes on Connor's uniform in the right spot. I have no idea what the red and green colours mean. After that, I save it as a separate file in another folder on my HDD. Here is a comparison of the before and after:

I don't know why they have to be upside down, but yep. + Sorry, it's unfortunate I can't upload the Juicy texture to this post. Must be to do with the DDS file format or whatever.

Anyway, this was the result:

crying

So I'm like okay, I understand this a little. I want to colour other stuff. After a whole bunch of dicking around with files (and I will not document my painful process), I watch a video on texture maps. My mind BLEW because:

I could identify the normal maps (purple ones).

I understand now that roughness maps will be the maps that make uniform textures shine or not. (I don't know which ones are roughness maps yet).

A few more things:

This is Connor's uniform jacket and this is his belt, but they're completely different texture maps. I have no idea what the red and green mean. Maybe it's to communicate to the roughness maps what to apply? (Shiny belt buckle vs leather strap.) And for Connor's jacket, here is where I can change the colour and look, but it won't change the fabric texture and actual shape. Anyway, so I'm going to download a 3D model program to see if that gives me a better understanding of things.

I'll update you soon!

~ Trinity

[inkskinned]

i haven't been back to CT since the accident.

which is to say I hate driving in CT, every time i have to go through it to get to NYC i spend the whole time holding my breath and hoping nobody acts stupid. there are exactly 2 things in CT worth preserving: rein's deli and the mystic seaport museum - and that second one only because my grandpa loved that shit.

now, i am not particularly familiar with the specifics but it just feels like CT is not an appropriate place for a christmas tree farm. when i got The Call, Roger on the other line called it "your standard CTF" and i had to say my what and he said "you've never heard that? CTF? christmas tree farm? CTF? - or haha, if you're woke, maybe holiday farm? haha".

i hung up after that for like 12 minutes just to take a deep breath and do a 10-minute meditation so i don't peak my blood pressure. and then i said sorry my phone died and ignored him talking while i googled. oregon has the highest number of CTFs per state. most firs and standard christmas trees are in zones 4-7 and CT is mostly a 6 state, so actually maybe i was just being biased against CT when i assumed you simply can't grow the spirit of christmas down there.

i like the name balsam fir and i keep repeating it to myself. i didn't know there were so many species of christmas trees. meanwhile Roger is still talking a mile a minute. "you don't gotta come in with force but really stick it to 'em. that's what Kevin and Herb taught me - none of that nice-guy stuff, okay? we're talking quick-and-easy. get in, hand 'em the folder, get out. it's efficiency that's the matter here."

i tune him out and then eventually get the pleasure of hanging up.

I only really work for this stupid place because i need insurance for my fucking laundry list of chronic "hysterical woman" issues (EDS, POTS, PCOS. probably something else with a fun acronym, why not). i fucking hate it here, except that it's actually been, like... fine? since the top 6 account managers kind of (i guess) disappeared - including my 2 bosses, Kevin and Herb.

most of us are just like, still doing our job. we still have meetings. there's less weird jokes. the meetings are much shorter. we just present our stuff and go home. so imagine how i fucking feel getting in my stupid honda civic and driving the 3 hours down from boston to bum-fuck just to... check on the boys.

i grew up on a farm, so im not too surprised when the road suddenly turns from "gravel" to "makeshift" to "shut the gps off, it's just confused at this point." no worries. a guy in a torn flannel drew a picture for me at the last gas station. he had leaned over and sniffed a little while sipping his Dunks. they got good trees.

they do. after a little white picket fence, suddenly the entire road is swarmed by them. firs on all sides like a coat. red twine marks off alleys of pine; cute little bows shine on the top of many. bells and white plastic deer and each branch dusted with glittering pristine snow. ornaments and little santas peeking out of present boxes.

i lean over the steering wheel and glance upwards. "aw shit. it's fucking cute here." in my passenger's seat, TERMINATION OF ACCOUNT is a red folder. i don't feel fucking good about this. i don't want to fucking do this. there's a freaking hand-painted sign saying family-owned! with handprints on it and tiny little names scrawled under it. jesus christ(mas). i'm 1000% going to hell for doing this.

on the other hand, Jen was one of the 6. like, losing the men was fine. but it is weird that jen never came back last month. i'm like, too feminist to feel okay with that. obviously yes quit your job and walk out but like - she had a life before she left. apartment and everything it sounds like.

i give up trying to bump my car over the potholes and end up walking the last 1.2 miles. it's been getting warmer these years, which i hate - but it's a lot colder here than i expected. the weather app said 54F. it feels maybe 21. the smell of snow warns me before i glance upwards - sure enough, decadent fresh flakes come tumbling down.

aw fuck. if it was gonna snow i should have put my windshield wipers up. i nestle closer into my jacket and pointlessly check my out-of-service phone for the 125th time. i realize only now i fucking forgot the folder in the fucking car.

the little house-barn-store is too close and i'm too cold at this point, so fine. the whole thing is covered in warm white lights and cute decorations. old christmas music is coming out of speakers placed at the end of the tree aisles.

i practice what i'm going to say. hi. i'm with Herrington Asset Management. we have sent, like. a lot of representatives. what did you do with the 6 entire human beings that came down here.

wait, why am i just now realizing our acronym is HAM? okay, so i'm going to say -

a man with a bright smile and a red flannel comes out from behind a work shed, wiping his hands on a rag. he's pretty, the way men can be pretty sometimes: rugged and approachable, blue eyes, 5'oclock shadow. he fills out that flannel well. "didn't hear ya come in, my apologies! what can i do ya for?"

i'm with HAM and I'm here to shut down your CTF. "hi."

"hi." he smiles wider. "welcome."

"um..." i sniff a little, feeling stupid. i keep thinking about my parents and how fucking hard it actually is to keep a farm. like, they say it a lot in movies, but it's genuinely like really very hard. fucking A, man. I don't want to do this.

he squints at me. "you from around here?"

i try not to bristle - is that because i'm fucking hispanic and allowed outdoors in CT - and suck in a breath. "no, i, um..." i decide to tell the truth. "a guy at cumby's told me where to find ya."

he laughs, and the sound is a sonic boom in the stillness. "that'd be Ron. he's a looker, huh? no, i recognize all our regulars, is all. don't recognize you."

HAM is located in Jersey and i work remote, so i take a second pass at radical honesty. my yoga teacher would be so proud. "i'm from boston, actually. just swinging through."

"oh? for real? laurel's from boston - she's my fiancée. how 'bout that. small world. can you believe - she left the big city for a dunce like me and now i get to marry the best lady around."

i do the little appropriate chuckle you are supposed to do when someone you don't know is also from the same major metropolitan area that you are from. also, that's extremely sweet to say about his partner. i am a sucker for wife-guys. "no kidding?"

"how are you liking conneticut? it's beautiful this time of year."

"it's..." fine? "more snow than i expected. weather said clear through 'til like thursday."

he offers me a warm hand. "i'm nick. what brings ya down here?"

i can't remember the name on the account. maybe it's in her name. and didn't i just say i was passing through? i flash him a smile while i think of the easiest way to warm him into the idea of shutting down his personal business. fuck. "um, just had some stuff to handle."

"that time of year, huh?" at my noncommittal smile, he waves a big, meaty paw. "come inside, i'll getcha some hot chocolate. laurel just made cookies."

he leads me into the store part of the building, and i stop for a second to pick up a tiny ornament shaped like a cottage. okay, this shit really is very cute.

"christmas really is the best holiday of all of 'em," he sighs. "wouldn't you agree?"

no, that's halloween. "sure," i say. i hold up the ornament. "this is nice." i glance around. "this is all... very rustic."

"sometimes you gotta just hit the brakes and slow down. this town is so perfect for that. places like this are so rare, ya know?"

oh i really fucking hope he doesn't know i'm from HAM. literally that would be such a vibe killer. "very rare," i agree.

i follow him into the back. i pause at the green velvet-rope stanchion that blocks off a hallway presumably leading into the "house" portion of the building. "oh. i can stay out here...?" because i am not going into this man's house. alone.

"don't be silly." he wraps his arm around mine like a gentleman and i almost scratch his damn eyes out, except i'm genuinely so fucking shocked by the boldness of the action that i just sort of follow him down the hallway. "i won't letcha leave without a cookie."

he walks me into a simply stunning kitchen. the ceiling skyrockets into a beautiful, tinseled roof. the living room folds out to the left of the kitchen island. a fire is roaring, and a massive christmas tree winks cheerily at me. outside the huge windows, the snow peacefully rests in perfect layers.

well, there's part of their money problems. they need better insulation because paying for heat in a building with this many windows has got to cost an arm and a leg. nevermind how much dust must collect on those exposed beams. why do people design houses like this - have they never cleaned?

also, they need to stop spending half their budget on christmas decorations. surely not every surface needs to be frosted with pottery barn items. it is dangerously close to a modernized cracker barrel in here. i wander into the living room, trying not to be jealous of the casual wealth.

nick stands next to me and chuckles. "this kinda weather always makes me want cookies. but that's what laurel's here for, i guess."

"you have a pretty place," i say, because i am clearly staring.

"oh, i don't know. needed a woman's touch." he winks at me and goes behind the granite kitchen island to wash his hands. "you shoulda seen it before laurel."

"oh yeah?"

he nods. "had some money troubles. 'course, she is an angel and organized a whole fundraiser. mind you - she's only been here but a second when she does. i proposed to her right then and there."

i can't help it. i genuinely fucking love that. "that is incredible," i say. "how precious to find love like that."

"she's my answer to all life's problems. truly."

"honey?" a warm voice greets us and a lady comes around the corner, one hand in an oven mitt. "do we have a customer?"

i stop moving.

her hair is darker now. her smile is wider. something opens a pit in my stomach and i fall through myself. i put my hand on my stupid useless phone and take a step backwards.

"oh!" her white teeth shine. "hi there. you're not from around here, are you?" she picks up a tray of cookies. "i recognize all our regulars."

the man laughs. "rob is tellin' on us again." she laughs too, tinkly and high and beautiful.

of course she doesn't recognize me, we're remote and don't work on the same accounts, i was never high up enough -

nick gives her a little slap on the back that makes her stumble. she laughs and wipes a little bit of flour on his nose affectionately.

maybe i'm not being fair. she could have legitimately found love and dropped out of our shitty job. he wraps his arms all the way around her and buries his nose in her hair. "my girl," he says.

"i'm laurel," she smiles at me. "i'm his fiancee. come inside, let me getcha some hot chocolate."

he picks up a cookie from the counter and waves at me. "i'm gonna go whack on a tractor for a few minutes, but i'll leave you in the capable hands of my beautiful christmas girl," he promises. "warm up, and then let's go back out there and pick you out something nice."

i force a smile at him and at her and watch him leave. i do not move. i stay perfectly still, like an animal. because here's the thing: her name isn't laurel.

maybe she's conning him?

i stare at her. she doesn't seem to notice, instead taking a bag of white icing out of the large, beautiful fridge. "how are you liking conneticut? isn't it beautiful this time of year?"

"jen, what the fuck is happening."

she arranges a single gingerbread man on her countertop and starts icing him. "how are you liking conneticut?" she repeats. "isn't it -"

"it's beautiful this time of year," i say.

"christmas is the best holiday of all," she sighs, "wouldn't you agree?"

"sure," i say. i put the phone in my pocket. i stand up straighter. "i am really just..." going to leave now. maybe i should try subtlety. "don't i know you from somewhere?" like, ya know, work?

the cookie is too hot and the icing is melting as she draws the outlines on the gingerbread. a bead of sweat trickles down her nose. "i'm from the big city," she says. "but now i am going to be married to the best man around. i'm his beautiful christmas girl."

"right, but which big city?"

"i'm from the big city. how are you liking conneticut?"

there is ice in my gut. i am getting the pure, foreboding sense of fuck that which i am pretty sure is genetically engineered in me. in spanish we call it espookies. i try to make it look casual while i walk closer and closer to the exit. i pretend to look at the decorations closely. "i'm just wondering because your partner said you're from boston?"

she laughs. the cookie icing is pooling on the counter. "sometimes you gotta just hit the brakes and slow down. this town is so perfect for that. places like this are so rare, wouldn't you agree?" she pushes the gingerbread to the side and starts working on the next one.

it's hot in here, i realize. too-hot. sweat licks down my back. i watch it slide down her neck, down her arms.

she outlines a melting gingerbread man. "what brings you down here?"

"i had..." i feel my voice crack. the hallway back into the store is within a few steps at this point. "...some stuff to handle."

"that t-"

"that time of year," i finish for her.

she stares at me. the icing has burst out of the bag and is melting down her wrists and over her apron. "doesn't this weather make you want cookies?"

i put one heel into the hallway, trying to back up as subtly as possible.

she looks up at me. icing melts over the counter. "doesn't the weather make you want cookies?"

i'm so close to making a bolt for it. but when i look at her and the icing and her perfectly applied lipstick i just fucking can't. my heart breaks for her. i need to at least fucking try.

"jen - laurel - whatever," i hiss. "i don't know what fucking happened but - we need to fucking leave." i glance behind me. "jen, this isn't fucking okay. whatever he's doing to you - we can get out of here. call the cops. something."

"it's beautiful this time of year."

"jen. come on girl, i will put you in my fucking car. but we got to go. i don't know if it's like a cult thing or -" i hork down a breath and feel dangerously close to crying. "please."

"doesn't the weather make you want cookies? that's what i'm here for!"

i take another step backwards and a hand comes down on my shoulder. when i jump, nick is back, and laughing.

"sorry about that." tucked under one arm is a huge ax. nick wipes his hands on a rag. "low on oil. you get a cookie from the missus? that's what she's -"

"balsam fir," i blurt. "i'm looking for a balsam fir."

he puts the axe over one shoulder. "oh? i love balsam. good choice. didn't expect a city slicker like you to know much about christmas trees." he lets out a laugh and so does she.

sweat is beading down my back. "i grew up on a farm," i feel my voice come out creaky and high.

he laughs again. "when you came in, i thought - this lady is corporate. you know how we take to that."

"money troubles," jen says from the kitchen. "we had money troubles."

my lips feel dry. i manage to slide by him, closer to the store. i force a watery smile. "oh. no, sir."

"they come in with a folder, talking about our CTF. i said i've been doing this for years."

my heart is slamming against my chest. i take another step down the hallway. i throw a look to jen.

she opens the oven and sticks her head inside.

"you know," nick says. "the firs are out by where you left your car."

i didn't tell him where i left my car. "oh, great." i say. "must be a sign." i take another step. and then another. i feel the weight of the velvet rope behind me and jump a second time.

"from the big city" jen says, her voice muffled by the oven. "how are you liking conneticut? this place needed a woman's touch."

at the other end of the long hallway, Nick swings the axe to come home in his hands. "it needs a woman's touch," he says.

yeah, absofuckinglutely not.

i turn and bolt, wiggling past the rope, stumbling into the many, many ornament displays. above me, white christmas rings out while i run-walk through wreaths and bobbles and reindeer. tears prick at the side of my eyes but being raised on a farm teaches you the professional art of being incredibly good at a panicked run-walk.

behind me, i hear nick pacing the store. the rope must have slowed him down. he's bigger than i am - he doesn't weave through things as easily. thank god.

i throw myself against the front doors and burst out into the chill and immediately feel a cough in my chest. the snow whips through the air. i dash past handmade right this way to holiday cheer! signs and tinsel. behind me, like a ghost, nick stomps his way ever-closer. i dart into the thickest part of the trees, hoping he will lose me in the snow and branches.

"you're from boston, right?" he shouts. "my ex was from boston. small world."

i dart across the wet snow and almost slide on the black ice underfoot. fuck fuck fuck fuck i cannot run a fucking mile in the cold. see above multiple chronic reasons for this. my bones and joints are already fucking hurting as i try to shimmy my way through the boughs, alternatively running and hiding. if i survive this, i wont be able to move for like a week.

if. good fucking lord. if.

"it's a nice place," he calls. i can't locate him in the whip of the snow. "it just needs a woman's touch."

thankfuckinggod im used to snow and blizzards because otherwise i would be utterly fucked. i try to keep any amount of calm in my body while i manage the slide-waddle of running on black ice - the backwards lean and body-tilt that i've practiced many times over farmland. the kind of tilt-run that is only possible if you've done it before. thankfuckinggod i'm not a city slicker - the trick isn't to rush.

but fuck it would be nice to rush right now!

over the speakers, white christmas restarts. i fork my keys through my fingers into a sharpened fist. i pause only for a second to pick up a particularly swingable gnome and then i keep fucking running. my chest feels like liquid fire. i can't stop coughing. christmas trees rise up on all sides of me. i can't get a breath down. the air feels like a fire hose. every step i take fucking echoes. go go go go go go.

i dart, he laughs, i freeze. i dash my way forwards. a branch cuts into my cheek. my nose is full of the smell of pine. my hands are sticky with sap and i'm covered in green needles.

i keep going. if i fucking die on a christmas tree farm i hope i poison all of the trees and end christmas. i run and hide and run and hide. i have no idea where that fucker is but i am not going to be caught relaxing for a moment.

my knee makes a particularly sharp turn and i know for a fact i've just done some serious damage. i slap my hand down onto it and hide inside the branches a particularly thick tree, trying to catch my breath for a second.

a family owned! sign winks up at me. the little handprints are the names of children, but the big ones say Steve and Piper. the date on it is from this year.

i simply do not have the time to care about that. i shiver through several calming breaths, trying to force my body back into running. i stumble into a clearing and recognize it as the road i took in.

something loud and banging starts and i know in my bones it's the sounds of a tractor starting up.

my heart drops and i seriously think about just laying down on the ground and letting him run me over.

except there is my car, blanketed peacefully in a white layer. i should have put the fucking windshield wipers up.

what-the-fuck-ever. my hands are shaking too much. i just need to get inside the fucking thing and go. i will ruin my suspension but i will take every pothole dead on if i must.

the tractor lights slice through the blizzard, heading right towards my car. it bounces jovially over the snow and potholes, unhindered.

nick is on the back of it, swinging his axe, laughing.

over the hum of his engine he calls: "how are you liking conneticut?"

Sending my most reliable corporate staffer to Connecticut to shut down a Christmas tree farm. Wish me luck

[burgundybmw]

Red: A Stranger Things SMAU

MASTERLIST

Paring: Eddie Munson x Mayfield!Reader

Warnings: Mentions assault (Billy sucks), Abusive sibling relationship (Not physical), and unfortunately we haven't seen the last of him in this series...

Summary: Y/N Mayfield likes her life, she has good friends, an amazing sister (a not so amazing step brother), and an intense love for music. The only thing missing in her life is a love life, but that could all change soon.

Author’s Note: I swear y'all have no faith in me hahahaha ENJOY!! ❤️❤️❤️

Part Twenty Two

Eddie:

Hey...

Y/N:

Oh thank God, Eddie I've been trying to call you for the past 15 minutes!!

Eddie:

I was driving. Stopped for gas.

Y/N:

Oh... I thought you were mad at me.

Eddie:

Why would I be mad at you?

Y/N:

Because of the Billy thing. Steve told me some stuff and it freaked me out.

Eddie:

What did he tell you??

Y/N:

That you think, that I think you mean nothing to me. Which is so far from the truth it's insane. I mean, Christ Eddie, you're my best friend!!

Eddie:

No, I know that...

Y/N:

Then why would you say that to Steve??

Eddie:

It's not what you think it is...

Y/N:

Okay? Then what is it?

Eddie:

...

Y/N:

Eddie?

Eddie:

Sorry... Yea I'm here.

Y/N:

Can you tell me what this is about?

Eddie:

The kiss Red.

Y/N:

Oh...

Eddie:

Yea, I don't know... I was just hurt that it meant nothing to you. That you could kiss me like that just for a dare. I know you don't like me like that, but we're still friends? It's kind of a big deal.

Y/N:

It is a big deal, and I'm so sorry I hurt you. You need to trust me when I tell you that you mean the world to me. What I said to Billy, it was just because I'm afraid of him.

Eddie:

What do you mean?

Y/N:

Billy has made it his life goal to make Max and I's life a living hell. He's... he's hurt guys who got too close to me in the past... I don't want that to happen to you.

Eddie:

You don't need to protect me Red, I'm a big boy I can take care of myself.

Y/N:

He almost put Steve in the hospital, and he beat the shit out of my first boyfriend so badly he broke his nose. He knows he can't touch Max and I, so he goes after people we love to hurt us. He was gonna hurt Lucas before I ripped him a new one, and the only reason I won that one was because I got Neil to agree with me. Billy can't stand you, I had to lie to him so he wouldn't go after you.

Eddie:

If he hates me so much why did he trade me his Metallica tickets?

Y/N:

What?

Eddie:

Shit.

Y/N:

What did you trade?

Eddie:

Nothing worth more than the experience of going to see our favorite band together Red.

Y/N:

Don't avoid the question.

Eddie:

...I traded my B.C. Rich.

Y/N:

YOU TRADED YOUR GUITAR?!

Eddie:

This is why I didn't tell you...

Y/N:

Why would you do that?! You love that guitar more than anything else in the world!!!

Eddie:

Not as much as I love you!

Y/N:

What...

Eddie:

I gotta go.

Y/N:

Eddie? Eddie! Don't you dare hang up on me right-

End.

Tag list:

@kikis-writing-world , @sweetpeapod , @cevans-winchester , @hopingforromanoff , @nativity-in-black , @esoltis280 , @celestialsxturn , @forsaken-letters , @ali-r3n , @galaxiasy , @mrs-billyrussooo , @shenevertricks1831 , @ems-alexandra , @thatlonelypieceoftoast , @magicmunson , @lediskogirl, @bratckerman , @mn2222222 , @teenage0jealousy , @trashmouth-munson-things , @eddiesbirdie , @mimischaos , @fangirling-4-ever , @theloveablesociopath , @inej-twilight-ghafa , @streamafterlaughter , @livslifeonline , @grungegrrrl , @mente-sindescanso , @youcanstandundermyamberella , @celestair , @plantfey , @yeswhatever33 , @efvyqrs , @cherrycolas-things​ , @guilty-gay , @soclover3000 , @levylovegood , @pistachoz​ , @lily-sinclair-2006 ,​ @goldenharrysworld , @mvnsons-slvt , @pinkdaiisies , @riddles-diary , @error-home-not-found , @clincallyonline17 , @coltonthekanima , @sighbuckybarnes , @coryisagee , @lem0nb0iii , @nojamsonmytoast , @redheadedfangirl1 , @givemeeverything 

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Victoria’s Game” - Embry Call

Request: It’s so nice to find another Embry lover lmao um, maybe a Embry x reader where Victoria is after the reader for some reason and Embry and the pack are all very protective??

********Should I make a part two to this? I’m thinking about it.********

Part One  / Part Two  / Part Three  / Part Four

Embry’s POV

“No I will not tell you where I’m taking you.” I laugh, still covering her eyes with my hands. 

“Em, we’ve been walking for like ever. I haven’t been able to see for like fifteen minutes!” Her beautiful laugh echoes the woods around us. 

“I know we’re almost there. Just be patient, babe. Step higher up, we’re going up!” 

“Easy for you to say. You try being blind on a hike for as long as me, wolf boy!” She says, slightly stumbling into me where the step up was. 

“Okay, okay. We’re here, I’ll let you see now, I guess.” I remove my hands from covering her eyes. 

“Thank god, I’ve been stressing out over here.” She begins but then looks at where I brought her. 

(Y/N)’s eyes gleaming with excitement, smiling ear to ear, turning around to me. The weight of her hands gripping mine before her slight excited jumping and pulling me to the meadow of flowers I found on last night’s patrol. 

“Oh my god, Embry it’s… it’s so beautiful.” She trailed off, running her fingers through the high flowers surrounding her. 

“I think you look beautiful. These flowers got nothing on you, babe.” I snake my arms around her waist, pulling her into my chest. 

“Emmmmm.” She whines, giggling at my cheesiness. 

“But it’s true babe. I knew you’d love it here, though. This could be a new spot of ours, if you want. None of the others found it, I was by myself last night.” 

“Yes, we can add it to our list of spots.” Her voice blissfully filling my ears. 

She pulls me into the middle of the meadow, the scent of hers mixing with all the flowers made me feel like I was in heaven. We sat down on a large rock, just enjoying each other’s company, her head on my shoulder, eyes closed. I could hear her inhaling my scent, the teakwood scented cologne I know she loved. 

(Y/N) was slightly drifting in and out of her slumber on my shoulder, her breath and heartbeat slowing. How did I ever get so lucky?

I look down at her, admiring her beautiful face, stroking her soft hair. 

That familiar, rancid smell hit my nostrils. Sending me into a panic. Where was she? 

My eyes widened, I frantically scanned the treeline without moving, attempting to not wake (Y/N) up and scare her. 

I then saw the fiery red hair in the treeline. 

She turned her attention over to (Y/N) and staring for a moment, before looking back at me and smiling crooked. She waved goodbye before running off into the distance, out of my scent range. 

This was a game to her, now. As we hunted Victoria for months, she was going to hunt (Y/N), my source of light, source of happiness. I had to let the pack know, (Y/N) too, but it was vital to start a new regime up to make sure (Y/N) stays safe, not just Bella anymore. 

“Babe, wake up. We gotta go to Sam’s.” I gently shook my shoulder, grabbing her waist with my arm to keep her balanced. 

“Okay, how late is it? Is everything okay? Was I asleep long? I’m sorry.” She yawns. 

“No, don’t apologize. Not long. We just have to go, now.” I urge her. 

Her heartbeat sped up realizing how serious I was about leaving immediately. 

I make the walk back to the car quickly paced, knowing she would keep up or that I would carry her in her sleepy state, either worked for me. We just had to get out of here ASAP.

I call Sam on our walk back. 

“We need to have a meeting, I’m on my way to your house now. I’ll be there in a half an hour, get everyone ready.” I hang the phone up, putting it into my pocket.

“Embry, please tell me what’s going on.” Looking up at me with pleading eyes. 

“In the car, okay?” I say, giving her hand a slight squeeze.

She nods and we make our way to the car, walking in silence for another fifteen minutes. 

I start the car and drive off immediately, she looks at me once again with a worried face, killing me slowly to see her afraid. 

“Okay, well I smelt something out there. It was her, and she saw you. I think she’s going to be coming after you. So no more being out in the woods, especially without at least a few of us. We’re going to need to patrol by you, too. You’re going to get protection, okay? I would never let anything happen to you, (Y/N). I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” I look into her eyes as I make my promise, but quickly turn my attention back to the road. 

She nods and looks out her window, trying to take it all in I suppose. 

I feel her heartbeat thumping in the car, breathing uneven. My poor girl. 

We pull up to Sam’s and I walk inside with her, my hand on the small of her back. 

We sit down at Sam’s kitchen table, joining everyone else who awaited our arrival. 

I sat down and explained what happened out in the meadow, everyone growing uneasy as the story progressed. 

“And then she ran out of my range of scent, this is a game to her, now.” I finish it off. 

We all grew up best friends with (Y/N), I just was the lucky one who imprinted on the girl I loved my entire life. So to say we all were protective of her was an understatement, she was family to everyone here. 

“Well, we’re gonna have to patrol more, and she can’t go anywhere alone anymore. We’ll have to watch her house, too.” Sam announces. 

Jacob seems to grow a little uneasy, probably at the thought that this meant less protection for Bella. I tried to contain myself from getting angry with him, but I knew he didn’t mean any malice behind it. Still, I couldn’t help but shoot him a glare. (Y/N) was my imprint for god’s sake, not just a girl stringing me along while her boyfriend skipped town. 

“Bella will still be okay. Maybe we can try to keep them together sometimes, making it a little easier on us.” Seth offers up, picking up on some of the tension. 

“We can do that, it’ll ease things up quite a bit, sometimes.” Sam affirms the idea. 

I look over at (Y/N) and she nods at me, letting me know she trusts us. 

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). The redhead won’t lay a finger on you with us around.” Paul chimes in, giving her shoulder a light nudge for comfort. 

“Thank you.” She smiles at him. 

We sit and chat for a bit, before deciding it was time to go check on Bella and tell her about the whole situation and new plan. 

We got into the truck and drove over to Bella’s to pick her up, seeing as Jacob was going to do that anyway so they could work on their bikes. 

Jacob goes to the door, being greeted by Charlie who waves to (Y/N) and I in the truck, earning a smile and wave back from us. 

“Embry, I’m scared.” Her small, sweet voice mutters next to me. 

I wrap my arm around her waist in the back seat of the truck, and pull her closer. 

“(Y/N), I will never let her hurt you. I’ll keep you safe. Even if it’s the last thing I ever do, until my dying breath.” I say, looking into her sweet eyes. 

“Em, don’t say that. It’s too… real.” She chokes out. 

“I mean it, (Y/N). We all will. You’re everything to me.” I kiss her forehead, feeling the tears falling from her eyes and onto my shirt. 

I held her tighter, the silence in the truck engulfing us as we awaited Jacob and Bella’s entry to the truck. 

______________ Part One  / Part Two  / Part Three  / Part Four

Word Count: 1340

SHOULD I DO A PART TWO? Lemme know everyone!

I hope you enjoyed it, anon! Thank you for the request!

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #169

Two builds in one day? That’s right! Today’s my birthday, and that means I get to pick the servants! As a birthday gift to myself, we’re making Caster of the Nightless City! As usual, expect spoilers in the build breakdown below the cut and in their character sheet here!

Scheherazade is a Creation Bard to truly bring her stories to life, and a Genie Warlock to create her own Bedchamber of Survival.

Race and Background

Wildly, Scheherazade is a Human, giving her +1 to all abilities. She’s also a Guild Artisan with one of the most demanding patrons in the world, giving her proficiency with Insight and Persuasion. 

Ability Scores

Your Charisma better be as high as possible, you’re literally famous for your storytelling skills. After that is Wisdom. Anyone can read a story, but to tell a story you’ve got to be able to read the audience. Your Intelligence is also pretty good, because let’s be honest, remembering over 1,000 stories is pretty goddamn impressive. Your Dexterity isn’t awful, because we need to be able to go from standing to dogeza in seconds. This means your Constitution and Strength are rather low. Sadly, telling stories doesn’t make you all that battle hardened.

Class Levels

1. Bard 1: Being a bard gives you proficiency with Dexterity and Charisma saves to avoid fireballs and being banished to other dimensions. (Though I guess banishment is better than death?) You also get proficiency in three bard skills, that is to say, three of any skill. Performance for storytelling, Acrobatics for faster dogezas, and History for more story material.

You can use Bardic Inspiration to give a d6 to an ally Charisma Mod times per long rest, and these dice can be added to pretty much any d20 roll to make it a bit better. (Not yours though, heaven forbid you have to get out there and... attack things.)

Speaking of not attacking things, let’s talk Spells. You cast em with Charisma, and get stuff like Blade Ward for taking less damage and Friends for convincing people to let you live in the first place. You also get Charm Person for a similar reason, Bane to weaken their offense if they still want to try anything, Feather Fall to avoid death by heights, and Silent Image for the first of your storied illusions.

2. Bard 2: Second level bards become Jacks of All Trades, adding half their proficiency to ability checks they’re not proficient in. By becoming more useful, you’re less likely to get killed! Probably. You also get a Song of Rest to boost healing during short rests. Healing is good, healing helps people not die. Finally, your Magical Inspiration lets allies add your inspiration dice to damage or healing caused by spells. Again, healing is good, and I guess doing more damage can be nice sometimes.

Speaking of doing damage, we’re not doing that. Instead, grab Sleep for a bedtime story.

3. Bard 3: Graduating from the college of Creation will help you bring your stories to life thanks to your Performance of Creation. As an action you can create a nonmagical object once per long rest or by spending a 2nd level spell slot. The item must be medium or smaller, and can only be worth at most 20 times your bard level in GP.

You can also help your allies star in legends of their own with Stories of Potential that add extra effects to your bardic inspiration depending on how they’re used. Ability checks get advantage on rolling the inspiration, attack rolls deal thunder damage to nearby creatures if they fail a constitution save, and saving throws add temporary HP to their users.

You can also cast Calm Emotions to keep the king from beheading you in the morning.

4. Warlock 1: Now that that’s taken care of, let’s get some help from a Genie. Picking this patron gives you a Genie’s Vessel, a tiny object like, say, a scroll case, within which you can find a Bottled Respite that you can hang out in for up to 2x your proficiency bonus hours per long rest, but you can only enter once per long rest. Any items you leave behind stay in the respite until the vessel is destroyed or you take them out again. Also, I gotta remember to point out the inside is bigger than the outside, space isn’t an issue for you.

You also learn to imbue your attacks with a Genie’s Wrath, adding thunder damage equal to your proficiency bonus to one attack per turn. You don’t really attack that much, but it’s nice to make every bit count.

Speaking of attacking, you can actually do that with your new Spells! You still use Charisma, but you have Pact Magic, so these slots don’t mix with your old ones. The plus side is they recharge on short rests instead of long ones, and you can still cast bard spells with warlock slots and vice versa.

You get Minor Illusion for cheap lifelike stories, as well as Eldritch Blast for the ever-present caster balls. For first level spells, you get Detect Evil and Good and Thunderwave for free, as well as Comprehend Languages because copyright doesn’t exist in D&D, and Protection from Evil and Good. Some kings are evil, some are good, but very few are neutral. (WARNING: does not actually protect against good or evil aligned humanoids)

5. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, ways to customize the selling your soul experience. Armor of Shaodws gives you free mage armor to avoid dying, and Eldritch Mind makes it easier to concentrate on your spells, which are keeping you from getting killed.

Speaking of spells, Sense Emotion lets you read the prevailing emotion of a nearby creature as an action, and you can repeat the action each turn. Good storytelling requires you know what your audience wants.

6. Warlock 3: Third level warlocks get a Pact Boon, and Pact of the Tome gives you a super cool magic scroll that gives you three cantrips from any spell list. You get Guidance and Resistance for added protection, and Mage Hand. Handling hot objects can be dangerous! Now you don’t have to do that.

Besides that, you get second level spells here, like Enthrall. Being the center of attention is dangerous, but you’re the most personable member of the party, so this might be less dangerous than letting them talk. You also get Phantasmal Force and Gust of Wind for free, letting you attack with fictional characters and just make things a bit more dramatic.

7. Warlock 4: At fourth level you finally get your first Ability Score Improvement, which will be used to round up your Dexterity and Constitution for a higher AC and higher HP. Not dying’s good, you should try it out.

You also get Prestidigitation to add minor effects to your stories, and Flock of Familiars to summon background characters.

8. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get third level spells, like Major Image to make larger effects for your stories. You also get Create Food and Water and Wind Wall for free.

On top of that, the invocation One with Shadows lets you turn invisible as an action in dim light or darker, and lasts until you move or take an action. When a truly good storyteller gets going, the story takes on a life of its own, and they just sort of... fade into the background.

9. Warlock 6: Sixth level genilocks get an Elemental Gift, giving you resistance to thunder damage. Like Cursed Arm always says, you can’t travel the desert without protection from wind. As a bonus action, you can now fly for 10 minutes Proficiency times per long rest. Admittedly you don’t really do that too often, but I’m sure you can illusion up a big genie hand or something to lift you up.

You can also summon a main character now thanks to Summon Fey. You can create a small fey creature in one of three moods that can teleport around and fight for you. Fuming fey get advantage on attacks after teleporting, mirthful fey can charm creatures, and tricksy fey create magical darkness which you can use to turn invisible.

10. Warlock 7: Congrats on your fourth level spell slots! Your freebie spells are Phantasmal Killer and Greater Invisibility to put less focus on yourself and more focus on the terrifying monsters you can summon. You can also use Hallucinatory Terrain to reshape the world into the world of your story. You can also use Trickster’s Escape once per long rest to cast Freedom of Movement on yourself to get the hell out of dangerous situations.

11. Warlock 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for better spells and better stories. You also learn how to Charm Monsters to avoid even more danger by just... getting along with everything.

12. Warlock 9: Ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, like the freebies Creation to make even more nonsense out of nothing and Seeming to again, avoid danger. On top of those, you can use Modify Memory to retcon your stories to prevent your audience from getting too upset. You also gain the Gift of the Protectors, allowing you or another creature to write its name on part of your scroll. The scroll can hold the names of Proficiency people, and once per long rest the first creature to drop to 0 hp sticks around at 1 hp instead. You can also erase names if you have a falling out, but since it’s first come first served you might just want to keep this to yourself.

13. Warlock 10: Tenth level genielocks get a Sanctuary Vessel, allowing you to take up to 5 willing creatures into your Genie’s Vessel with you. You can eject creatures as a bonus action, by leaving yourself, dying (don’t do that one), or by destroying the vessel.

On top of all of that, creatures that stay in the vessel for at least 10 minutes get all the benefits of a short rest, plus they add your proficiency to any healing they get from hit dice. That’s on top of the d6 they were already getting from your song of rest.

Oh right, you get another cantrip too. Grab Blade Ward again. You can never be too careful.

14. Bard 4: Yeah, did you think we were done with bards? Nope! This level of bard gives us another ASI that’ll max out your Charisma for the best spells possible!

You also learn Message, because miscommunication can be deadly, and Lesser Restoration. You never know what kind of status effects might doom your party, after all...

15. Bard 5: Fifth level bards get their inspiration bumped up to d8s, and they finally become a Font of Inspiration to recharge their inspiration on short rests. I wanted to get sanctuary vessel as quickly as possible for the sake of getting your bedchamber of survival, but it’s awfully tempting to put these two levels earlier, ngl.

You also learn how to Feign Death, because nobody’s going to bother killing you if you’re already dead, right? This spell makes you or the targeted creature effectively dead by the reckoning of anyone around them. They can’t take actions, are blinded, and can’t move. They get resistance to all damage except psychic, and any diseases or poisons they’re affected by are frozen until the spell ends an hour later.

16. Bard 6: Sixth level bards can use Countercharm to protect their party from effects that would charm or frighten them, giving them advantage on those saves for a round.

You can also put on an Animating Performance to turn a large or smaller object into a Dancing Item, which follows your orders, given by your bonus action. You can do this once per long rest, or by spending a third level spell slot.

Your last bard spell is Catnap, putting up to three creatures to sleep for 10 minutes. If they stay asleep the entire time, they get the benefits of a short rest. Dying of overwork... what a horrifying concept.

17. Warlock 11: At eleventh level, instead of getting your spell slots made bigger you get a Mystic Arcanum, allowing you to cast a sixth level spell once per long rest. Guards and Wards is very useful if you’re paranoid, creating wards to protect up to 2,500 square feet of space (a.k.a. 100 5′ squares). You can specify creatures that are immune to effects, or a password that does the same thing.

In corridors, fog fills the area, and forks in the road have a 50% chance of forcing creatures down the wrong way.

Doors are magically locked, and up to 10 doors in the area can be covered by illusions.

Stairs are covered in Webs that regrow when destroyed.

You can also place: Dancing Lights in four corridors, Magic Mouth in two places, Stinking Cloud in two places, Gust of Wind in one corridor or room, and Suggestion in one five foot square.

Casting Guards and Wards in the same place every day for a year makes it permanent.

18. Warlock 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Constitution for better concentration and health. You also learn your last Invocation, Minions of Chaos! Once per long rest you can cast Conjure Elemental using a warlock spell slot. It is a little bit risky, but even you have to be willing to stick your neck out at some point. Might as well be level 18.

19. Warlock 13: Your seventh level Mystic Arcanum is Mirage Arcane, allowing you to reshape reality in a square mile, altering the entire terrain to your story and even making entire structures out of nothing. Even creatures with true sight will still feel the illusion, so feel free to recreate the tower of babel and hide out on the top of it.

20. Warlock 14: Your capstone level gives you a Limited Wish from your patron, recreating any spell of fifth level or lower once per 1d4 long rests. Sometimes your story just needs a Maelstrom, and nobody’s going to wait for you to take 9 levels of druid just to finish a story.

Pros:

If your DM rewards creativity and you’ve got the mind thoughts to power this build, this build will treat you very nicely. This whole thing is basically an excuse for the roleplayer inside of you to ham up your acting, chew the scenery, and distract everyone from the rogue rifling through their pockets.

Speaking of distractions you can make some really good ones. Show up to the BBEG’s lair, butter them up with some stories, then trick them into entering your vessel, and then they’re trapped in there for up to 12 hours. If you can trick them into allowing you to catnap them, that gives the rest of your party a full 10 minutes to ransack the place before they even know what’s happening. You can always kick them out if they’re being unwelcome guests, but there’s no way for them to leave on their own outside of killing you. And that’s easier said than done, because...

You’re really hard to fight. Between all the illusions, summoning creatures to fight on your behalf, the invisibility, and the altering reality in a mile radius, landing a blow on you is an ordeal, especially if you know they’re coming.

Cons:

If you’re actually stuck in a cage match with an enemy it’s gonna take a while, because you really aren’t built for damage. You have a negative strength stat, and your first damaging spell doesn’t show up until level four. Just bring them into the vessel, help them relax, and put them to sleep with catnap, that’s way less work than actually fighting them.

On a similar note, anything that can see through your illusions is going to cut through you like butter, because you’re pretty squishy. Only 15 AC and just shy of 150 HP means you should avoid fights like... well, you do in canon.

Another side effect of your squishiness is that your concentration saves aren’t that great, which is really bad for an illusionist/summoner. Neither your animated item nor your invisibility use concentration though, so you can actually get away with more than you’d think, it’s just a complicated juggling act. And trust me, you do not want to drop them in the middle of combat.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Don’t Treat My Love Like a Habit Part Eleven

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader Rating: Mature (this may change) Warnings: Cursing; light fluff; Notes: Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen. I hope everyone's had a good week 🥰 Summary: Everything had its place in the apartment, and your staying there temporarily was upsetting that balance.

You smelled like Santiago a lot these days. You didn’t mind that, you liked how he smelled - it was a comforting scent to be wrapped up in. A sort of blend of clean cotton and bergamot and sandalwood. It was probably because you were living in his apartment, and sleeping in his bed, and using his body wash… And lately, sleeping in one of his shirts, ‘cause you hadn’t gotten all of your clothing from your apartment yet. He’d insisted that you stay with him until you got a lead on who had broken into your apartment and the office. You didn’t think anything that had ever happened to you had ever engendered such a visceral reaction from him before. He was going with you to Diego’s office, checking in twice a day, making sure you got back to the apartment alright.

“You’re driving me crazy,” You finally mumbled. “Hm?” Pope hardly looked away from his phone. You had taken up most of his couch, leaning back against the arm and stretching your legs out. Pope had joined you a while back, and you’d tucked your toes under his thighs. You were on your laptop; Pope was on his phone doing god knows what. You wiggled your toes, trying to draw his attention. “Santiago.” He glanced over at you. “You gonna be hanging over my shoulder for the rest of this case?” “Whaddaya mean?” “I mean I haven’t gone back to my apartment, or our office -- nothing’s been off, but you’ve been worrying over me like a mother hen. You know I can defend myself. Hell, I’ve got my gun on half the time when I’m here.” “What about the other half?” “I’m asleep.” Pope grunted again, and you sat up a little, bending your knees and leaning forward over them. “Santi. You can’t be my shadow, we’ll never get anything done.” “Not true, I got three leads out of one of the dealers today.” “That’s today. What about tomorrow? Next week?” “I know, I just…” Santiago sighed, lowering his phone and turning to look at you. He weighed his words carefully. “I feel better when I can see that you’re alright.” “Well… You’ll be able to see that if you come back here in the evening. Besides, you think I don’t worry about you when I don’t see you for a few days?” You retorted, “Especially when you’re in a mood-- Don’t give me that look, Garcia, you know exactly what I mean.” Santiago grumbled, rubbing his hand over your shin. “... So what’d you get out of the drug dealer?” You asked, closing your laptop. “Can we talk about that later?” “What would you rather talk about?” “What we’re having for dinner?” You rolled your eyes. “Wanna order out?” “I’ll cook.” “You can cook?” 

Santiago laughed, giving your shin a pat, “You have so little faith in me,” He teased, getting up and heading into the kitchen. You watched him go, slouching down against the couch cushion. That wasn’t true at all. 

-- “Who’s that?” Santiago asked through a mouthful. “Alex,” You answered, setting the phone down on the table and pushing it across to him to read the text, “He wants to hit one of the stash houses that the dealer told you guys about earlier.” The irritated little wrinkle in Santiago’s forehead did not escape your notice. You raised a brow as he scanned the text. “You gonna go with him?” Santiago asked. You could hear the light tone he had affected. “I figured you would,” You admitted, propping your chin up on your hand, “You know I’m better coordinating in the office, anyway.” “You did alright last time.” “A one-off. I think you and ‘Brano oughta handle this one without me.” He grunted, pushing your phone back toward you. You took hold of it, tucking it into your back pocket. “Think about it, obviously,” You added, “I don’t want you going in on a bust you’re not comfortable with.” “Even if it’s viable?” “Just ‘cause something’s viable doesn’t mean you’ve gotta jump on it, Pope. And what about that recce I looked over for you and Diego?” “On hold, since we got those dealers.” You leaned back in your seat, humming thoughtfully. “... Could hit ‘em at the same time,” You said after a moment. Pope’s eyes lifted from his plate to you, brows raised. “...You’re not seriously suggesting what I think you are, Reina.” “You said yourself that the hits to my apartment and the office mean that we’re getting close. They’re going to start moving on things a lot faster now that they know we’re on their tail -- and the intel we’re getting from the dealers may be old if we follow the usual timeline we take to move on something they tell us.” “And if it’s bad intel?” “I’m not saying cut out the research or the stakeouts or the groundwork, I’m not, but we need to act fast. I go with Diego, you go with ‘Brano.” You stood, taking up your plate. “...Frankie’s right, you are starting to think like me,” Santiago teased, watching you. “Frankie is wrong and how dare the both of you. Now gimme,” You retorted, reaching out and taking Pope’s empty plate before heading into the kitchen. “You’re not doing the dishes--” “I am, too. You did the cooking-- and thank you, by the way,” You added, glancing over your shoulder as you heard Pope follow you into the kitchen. “...Why do I have to go with Zambrano,” Pope whined as he sidled up beside you, watching as you began to wash the dishes, “Why can’t you go with me and Zambrano go with Diego?” “Someone needs to be in the office to coordinate and you shouldn’t be out there by yourself. You’re liable to do something remarkably stupid.” 

“There’s that faith in me again.” “Well, call me selfish, but I like it when you come home in one piece.” 

You set a dish in the dish drainer as you waited for his response. Santiago went quiet for a few moments and you glanced over to find him watching you. “...What?” You asked, “Am I not washing the dishes correctly? I know you’re picky.” You’d found that out over the course of the last few days, living with Santiago. The man was...Particular. Everything had its place in the apartment, and your staying there temporarily was upsetting that balance. Apparently you’d been folding shirts wrong all your life. With that knowledge, it only stood to reason that you were washing dishes wrong, too. But Santiago shook his head, lowering his eyes. “We’ll talk to Diego about coordinating tomorrow.” “Fine. I’ll start digging into the tip ‘Brano wants to hit.” “Fine.” “Good.” “Great.” You rolled your eyes a little bit, setting the other cleaned dish aside. “You want a beer?” Santiago asked, pushing off of the counter. “Sure. You gonna show me how to throw it out later, too?” You teased. Santiago chuckled. “If you ask me nicely, I might.”

Tag list: @justanotherblonde23  ; @revolution-starter​​ ; @emurlemur ; @badbitxhbuckybarnes ;  @supernaturalcat7​

[allthingsfangirl101]

Barnum’s Daughter–Phillip Carlyle

Wattpad Request by Wolf_Sprit_622

Since first starting the circus, I've noticed my father slowly get more and more sucked into it. He became so focused on turning it around, it seemed like we saw him less. After finding people to join his circus, his next adventure was finding a new source of income for the show.

Tonight, like many before, we ate dinner like a family—minus my father. I looked up at Mom, my heart instantly falling into my stomach. The more focused dad got on the circus, the less time he seemed to spend with us and the harder it got on Mom.

"Where's Daddy?" Helen sighed as she pushed her peas around her otherwise empty plate. "I thought he promised to be home for dinner."

"He also promised to come to my show," Caroline mumbled.

"Come on, Cari," I said, trying to distract my mother. "Dad promised he'd make it this weekend and he will. He's been a little distracted lately, but he knows how important your show is."

For the rest of dinner, she was quiet. We were all quiet. Later, Mom was helping Helen and Caroline get ready for bed while I finished washing the dishes.

There was a bit of an age gap between my sisters and me. And by "a bit", I mean almost ten years. My grandfather thinks Mom got pregnant with me before running off with my dad, but it's not true. They ran off and got married younger than people think. Dad was twenty and Mom was nineteen. I was born a year later. They had Caroline when I was almost ten and Helen when I was twelve.

I looked over my shoulder when I heard Mom come into the room. "The girls go down alright?"

She shrugged as she sat down at the table, running her fingers through her hair. I was about to open my mouth and say something, but she spoke up first.

"I got a message from Marcus," she said. "Apparently, your father is at the bar with some Carlyle."

"Wait," I said slowly, "Phillip Carlyle?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "He is trying to get him to invest in the circus."

I wiped my hands off on a towel and walked over, kissing her cheek.

"Don't wait up."

"Y/N," she stuttered as she grabbed my hand. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the bar," I sighed. Before she could tell me not to, I interrupted. "Mom, get some sleep. Dad and I will be home soon."

I grabbed my jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders and headed into town. Before I got to the bar, I walked past the circus. I looked up at the sign, my eyes watering.

"You were supposed to be good for our family," I said to myself. "Not destroy us."

I tightened my jacket around myself as I walked across the street. I walked into the bar and instantly made eye contact with the bartender. Marcus sent me a look before chuckling.

I looked over to see my dad sitting at the bar with none other than Phillip Carlyle, the prestigious playwright, and well-known drunk playboy.

I leaned against the far end of the bar and listen in on their conversation. Dad was trying to get Phillip to join the circus as an investor and Phillip wasn't showing any sign of giving in.

"No offense, Mr. Barnum," he chuckled. "But I can't just run off and join the circus."

"Come on now," I sighed, getting their attention. "It's not that bad. Plus it's fun. When's the last time you can say you've made money while having fun?"

"And you are?" Phillip asked as he very obviously looked me up and down.

"This is Y/N," my dad laughed. "My eldest daughter."

He tried to get off the stool but stumbled. I gave him a disappointed look that he ignored as he walked over to me. I held my breath as he kissed my forehead.

"She's way too pretty to be your daughter," Phillip said, smirking at me. I held back my eye roll at his attempt to joke with my dad while flirting with me.

"Y/N, I am trying to get Mr. Phillip Carlyle to invest in our circus," my dad started to explain.

"Your circus," I corrected under my breath. My dad didn't hear me but I could tell by the look on Phillip Carlyle's face that he did.

"Tell him why he should join us," dad laughed as he patted my back.

"Well, you spend your days writing plays and watching them bomb," I started. I sighed when Dad cleared his throat.

"Try again," he whispered.

"At least with the circus," I continued, "your work will be fun. You're trapped in this drudgery and wall you keep yourself in. Why not trade that life for one with a little bit more flexibility?"

"A little more crazy," my dad added. My father has asked me to do this plenty of times so I had our rhythm down. "Put a little bit of a risk in your life, Carlyle."

"My life has plenty of risk in it," Phillip said glancing over at me.

"Don't you want to get away from that same old part you gotta play?" I asked. "Doing what you do, you're locking yourself up, Mr. Carlyle. You can stay in that cage or, with us, with the circus, you can take the key and let yourself out."

Phillip glanced between my father and me before chuckling. "I appreciate you wanting to cut me in," he started, "but hate to tell you, but it just won't happen. So, thanks, but no. I think I'm good to go."

"Really?" I couldn't help but scoff. My father glared at me while Phillip just scoffed.

"Y/N," my father sighed.

"What?" I scoffed. "You really believe that you're happy in this life? You really enjoy this life you're trapped in?"

"Look," Phillip sighed, "I admire you, and that whole show you do. You're onto something. Really it's something. But I live among the swells, and we don't pick up peanut shells. I'll have to leave that up to you."

"Wow," my father snorted.

I watched as he angrily rolled his eyes. He walked over to the bar and ordered a drink. Marcus hesitated, glancing at me like he was checking with me if it was okay for him to give my father another drink. I shrugged and heard Marcus sigh before making my father a drink.

"Now," I continued for him, "is this really how you like to spend your days? Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays?"

"If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the town," Phillip laughed harshly. "Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns."

"But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little," I tried to counter. "Just let me give you the freedom to dream. It'll wake you up and cure you're aching, take your walls and start 'em breaking. Now that's a deal that seems worth taking. But I guess I'll leave that up to you."

I waited, slightly holding my breath as he thought about it. His back was turned to me as he slowly slipped on his scarf and hat. Without seeing his face, I could tell he was changing his mind.

After a few more seconds of hesitation, Phillip slowly slipped his scarf back off, hanging that and his hat on the coatrack by the door. I smiled, hiding my smirk as he turned back towards me with the same half-smirk on his face that I had on mine.

"Well, it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly," Phillip said. "So what percentage of the show would I be taking?"

"Fair enough," I sighed. "Of course you'd want a piece of all the action. I'd give you seven, we could shake and make it happen."

"I wasn't born this morning," Phillip chuckled. "Eighteen would be just fine."

I didn't hold back my laughter. "Why not just go ahead and ask for nickels on the dime," I scoffed.

"Fifteen," he counter-offered.

"I'd do eight."

"Twelve."

"Maybe nine."

"Ten."

I thought about it for a second, knowing that if we really wanted Phillip Carlyle's money and reputation, this would have to work.

"You got yourself a deal, Mr. Carlyle."

He chuckled as he shook my outstretched hand. The second he grabbed my hand, I noticed a sudden change. We jumped, finally breaking our handshake and eye contact when my dad clapped his hands in excitement.

"And that's why she's my right-hand man," he said as he squeezed my shoulders. I forced a laugh as I got out from under my dad's arm.

"Marcus!" My dad yelled for the bartender, making me jump. "A round of celebratory champagne."

While my dad was distracted with the drinks, I put my coat back on and slipped outside.

                       * * * * *

"Y/N, wait up!"

I chuckled as I took a few more steps before finally turning around. I crossed my arms over my chest, unable to hide my smirk.

"Can I help you, Mr. Carlyle?" I asked as he caught up to me.

"That was some nice bargaining in there."

"Well," I sighed, "you've met my father."

"No," he laughed. "No offense to your father, but you are nothing like him, Y/N."

"Thanks?"

"I just meant that. . . I didn't mean for it to come across like. . . I'm sorry," Phillip stuttered.

"It's alright," I chuckled. "You aren't the first one to tell me that. Almost everyone who works at the circus has told me that."

We stood there, just staring at each other. Suddenly, Phillip cleared his throat as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"So, do you work at the circus with your father a lot?" Phillip asked, trying to break the silence between us.

"I help my dad here and there," I said, slightly clearing my throat.

"What do you do?"

"Well," I hesitated. "I manage all the ticket sales, community outreach, organizing the schedule, ensuring all riggings and ropes are in place and safe for our entertainers, supply management, and. . ."

"There's more to that list?" Phillip joked. I rolled my eyes as I fixed my bag over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "But not everyone has everything handed to them on a silver platter. Some people actually have to work to get what they want in this world. Some people start something bigger than they think and it ends with them needing more help than they thought they would. And then they end up dumping all of that stress and their normal fatherly-duties on his oldest daughter who is already struggling to hold the family together. Not to mention the fact that she should be out enjoying life but instead, she's fixing her father's messes."

I bit my lip when I said too much. I looked away before he could see the tears threatening to stream down my face. I walked over and sat on the bench at the trolley stop. I put my head in my hands, ignoring the sound of him walking over and sitting next to me.

"Y/N," he started.

"Don't," I cut him off as I quickly stood up. "Don't try and sympathize or empathize with me, Phillip. You have no idea what I'm going through. My father has always been the type of person with his head in the clouds. I used to love that about him. Until all of this started. Until the circus. He's chasing his dream of being famous but at what cost? He's losing my sisters, he's losing my mom, he's losing himself."

"What about you?" He asked. I bit my lip but didn't turn around to face him. Instead, I tightened my arms around myself. When I didn't say anything, he continued.

"Y/N, he's making you lose your freedom," Phillip explained. I slowly turned around, nervously biting my bottom lip. He walked over, grabbed my hand, and led me back over to the bench. When we sat down, he didn't let go of my hand.

"He's subconsciously making you fill in for him at home," he hesitated to tell me the truth. "And at the circus, he's grooming you to follow in his footsteps."

Phillip nodded as he continued. "I've lived in my father's shadow my entire life. In fact," he hesitated, "that's why I decided to join you and your father. I wanted to do something for myself."

"And you chose a risky, publically judged circus?" I challenged. He laughed as he finally looked up at me.

"I've got a gut feeling," he shrugged.

"You trust those?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He stopped when he saw the look on my face. "What?" He asked.

"It's just. . . I've never had one," I confessed, feeling a little silly. I looked down, blushing when I saw our hands were still intertwined.

"I'm sure you have," he said softly. "You just didn't know it was a gut feeling. Like all of this with your dad. Everything you've done, every decision you've made, every mess you've cleaned up. Those were all gut feelings, Y/N."

"You really believe that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I do," he chuckled. I sucked in a breath when he squeezed my hand. I cleared my throat, breaking our intense eye contact.

"I should go and make sure my dad gets home safe," I said, clearing my throat. "I promised my mom that I'd bring him home."

I cleared my throat before standing up, finally letting go of Phillip's hand. I wrapped my arms around myself as I turned back towards the bar.

"Y/N," Phillip stopped me. I bit my lip before turning towards him. He stood up and took a few steps until he was in front of me. He reached down and grabbed my hands in his, instantly intertwining our fingers together. My breath got stuck in my throat when he looked up at me through his eyelashes.

"I have a gut feeling about this."

"About what?" I asked softly.

"About this deal," he said, squeezing my hands. "I didn't have a feeling about joining your father and the circus at first. Not until you started talking. Then I had the strongest gut feeling I've ever had."

"You honestly think this is going to work out?" I hesitated to ask.

"I really do," he chuckled.

I had a feeling that we weren't just talking about the circus.

[just-my-fandom]

Chapter 2: Trick or Treat, Freak

Summary: After Will sees something terrible on trick-or-treat night, Mike wonders whether Eleven’s still out there. Nancy wrestles the truth about Barb. Dustins sister finally talks to Mad Max, but doesn’t get the response she wanted.

Tag list; @folly-olly @chinchillagirl18

Story list; Chapter 1

Note; Damn I suck at keeping up with series’, I’m sorry it took me five months to get the second chapter in, school and work is keeping me (too) occupied! I also started improvising in the end because my Netflix has been cutting out, and I don’t know the episode word-for-word by heart!

“Oh! I want to see those pearly whites!”

You and Dustin are dressed all out. Gray suits and large backpacks, each holding your own proton blaster. Side by side, you aim your blasters at one another, smiling at the camera your mother held up,

“Who you gonna call?” Claudia hums the Ghostbusters theme song, and laughs when you purposefully hit Dustin in the shoulder with your blaster. 

You skid your bike to a stop just outside the school, laughing when Will runs up, yelling, “Ghostbusters!”

“Hey, Spengler!”

“Egon!”

“Venkman!”

“Whoa whoa.” Mike pulls you away from Lucas, pointing to Lucas’ name tag on his suit, “Why are you Venkman?”

“Because I’m Venkman.” Lucas states, Mike shaking his head. “No, I’m Venkman.”

“Why can’t there just be two Venkmans?” Will asks, innocently, Mike scoffing and glaring at Lucas. “Because there’s only one Venkman in real life. We planned this months ago.” 

Mike presses a hand to his chest. “I’m Venkman. Y/N’s Barrett, Dustin’s Stantz, Will’s Egon, and you’re Winston.”

“I specifically didn’t agree to Winston.” Lucas crosses his arms, Mikes eyes widening in an ‘are you serious’ expression. “Yes, you did!”

“I don’t think he did.” You look at Will, who shakes his head. “No one wants to be Winston.”

“What’s wrong with Winston?” Mike looks at you, and you press your lips together, tightly. “Winston joined the team super late, he’s not really funny, or a scientist.”

“Yeah but he’s still cool.”

“If hes so cool.” Lucas snips, “Then you be Winston.”

“I cant.” Mike sighs, and your eyes scan the school yard as they continue to argue, furrowed brows relaxing with realization. “Shit.” You face the group, “Guys?”

The four boys look at you, and you point past them, to the kids getting off the bus. “Why is no one else wearing costumes?”

Standing at your lockers side by side, Will watches you unzip your suit and step out of it. “You wore clothes underneath?”

“You didnt?” You pick up the suit and bag and shove them into your locker, slamming it shut before picking up your bookbag, turning and jerking to a stop to stare at Max, who rolled down the hall towards you on her skateboard.Your eyes watch as she skids to a stop in front of her locker, putting her board inside and grabbing her books for the next class.

“You really like her, huh?” You blink and look at Will, shaking your head as you sigh, deeply. “No. It’ll go away.” Your eyes shift back to the red head. “I hope.”

“Why dont you just talk to her?” Will asks, and you frown, finally turning your full attention to him. “She called us stalkers and creeps. I dont think she’d want to be friends with a creepy stalker.” Without realizing, your eyes are on her again, “Besides, she probably doesnt even like girls.”

“You never know until you talk to her.” Will raises an eyebrow, and you squint your eyes. “Since when did you get so good at this kinda stuff?”

“My mom has a boyfriend.” Will shrugs, and you snort, nodding towards the classroom you both shared down the hall. “C’mon.”

.           .               .

Max opens her locker and shoves her first and second period books inside, heaving a deep sigh of exhaustion.

A small clearing of a throat causes her to glance over, finding you, shifting your bookbag on your shoulder, and a nervous smile on your lips. Cute.

“Uh, hey.” You wave, and instantly drop your hand to your side, “I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” She nods, once, shifting onto one foot, “You’re a stalker like your four buddies.”

You laugh, nervously, shaking your hand as you pull at the sleeves of your shirt. “No. No, we weren’t stalking you. I-I mean my brother and my friend, Lucas, were, but I was just curious. You’re new here in Hawkins and I saw that you really like Dig Dug at the arcade.”

“So your brother is Dustin?” Max raises an eyebrow, and you nod, “Great. So you’re related to a stalker.”

“My twin, actually.” You flinch, “That’s not what I came to you about. Halloweens tonight, and since you’re new to town, I was wondering if you wanted to go trick or treating with us.”

“No thanks.” Max slams her locker shut, stepping back, “I dont hang out with stalkers.” You press your lips together when she turns around, walking down the hall to the classroom you also had to walk to.

“Great talk.” You exhale, shakily, glancing around before following her. You drop down into your desk and heave a deep sigh, Will glancing over at you then to Max settled in the back, “So?”

“So what, Will?” You mutter, dropping your notebook on your desk before crossing your arms, leaning into your seat. “Did you talk to her?”

“Did I talk to her?” You repeat, and Dustin looks over his shoulder at your harsh tone, “Yeah I talked to her. She called me a stalker and a creep. Us stalkers and creeps. So she wants nothing to do with me.”

Will frowns and glances at Dustin, before he watches you prop your chin on your hand, and write the notes on the board.

. . .

“You’re late.” Billy is propped up against his car, cigar in hand as he watched Max round to the passenger side,

“I had to pick up make up homework.”

“Jesus, I don’t care.” Billy tosses his cigar down, stomping on it before tossing open his door, “Late again and you’re skating home.”

Max waits until he’s in the car before rolling her eyes, settling in next to him and curling up against the window. Halfway down the road is when Billy decides to speak up again. “God, this place is a shithole.”

“It’s not that bad.” Max protests, quietly, mind taking her back to you. She had seen how quiet you were in class today. She caused that by being cold to you in the hallway.

“You liking it here?” Billy snips, eyes glancing at her then back to stare at the road, “It smells like literal cow shit.”

“No.”

“Then why are you defending it?” Billy narrows his eyes to Max, but misses her rolling her eyes a second time that day. “I’m not.”

“Sure seems like it.”

“It’s just.” Max sucks in a deep breath, trying to make sure she didn’t have an attitude. “We’re stuck here, and.”

“Yeah. Whose fault is that?”

“Yours.” Max mutters, so Billy raised his eyebrows and glanced her. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” Billy raises his hand to his ear, “Whose fault is it Max? Say it.”

“No.”

Billy clenches his jaw, hand jerking to shift the gear of his car, which lurches when it suddenly picks up speed. Max’s eyes snap to the road, where up ahead, four figures pedal on their bikes. You and the party.

“Billy, slow down.” Max demands, Billy chuckling and looking at her. “What? Those your buddies?”

“No! I don’t know them.”

“Well I guess you won’t care if I hit em, huh?” Billy drums his hand on the steering wheel, eyes settled on you reaching over to shove Dustin, “Bonus points if I hit all of them in one? Or maybe just the girl.”

“Stop, that’s not funny.” Max turns in her seat, mind racing. She just met you. Is she really going to lose you before she has a chance to be friends?

You look over your shoulder at the loud roar of Billy’s car, your eyes widening when the car jerks to speed up, your gasp inaudible from how hard you suck in, “Guys. Guys, we gotta move!”

“Billy, stop!” Max orders, hand reaching out to jerk the steering wheel away from the group, to the opposite side of the road.

Your bike wobbles so you fell sideways, jaw hitting the rough road so your head jerked back up, groan loud as Dustin fell into the grass, Mike and Lucas dropping their bikes to scram back into the road, both grabbing your arms but their eyes remain on the car now speeding away.

“What the fuck?!” You jerk your arms away and rub your jaw, hissing before pulling your hand back, staring at the blood on your fingers and palm,

“Was that...?” Dustin points to the car, before looking at you, catching the blood on your face and hand, “Ah, shit.”

. . .

“I swear to God, if I get another 3-Musketeers I’m going to kill myself.”

You snort and toss your hair up into a lose ponytail, taking your candy bag back from Mike as you glance at Lucas, who holds up said candy and grimaces.

“What’s wrong with 3-Musketeers?” Dustin asks, foreign high offense to the dark skinned males statement,

“What’s wrong with 3-Musketeers?” Luke repeats, chucking the candy so Dustin barely caught it, grinning at it before shoving it into his bag, “No one likes 3-Musketeers,”

“Yeah, it’s just nougat.” Will agrees, shrugging at your scrunched nose face,

“Just nougat?” Dustin protests, Will nodding, “Just nougat. It is top three for me.”

“Eh, top five.” You squint, ignoring Dustins glare,

“Top three?” Mike breathes, Dustin repeating in agreement, “Oh, God, give me a break!”

“Seriously, I could eat a whole bowl of nougat, straight up!”

Suddenly, a figure wearing a white mask jumps out in front of you, your brows furrowing when the four boys at your sides all screech, your eyebrow raising as you glance at them, then to the figure, “That’s it?”

“Seriously?” The figure pulls off the mask to reveal Max’s face, her mouth gaped as she stared at you. “Out of all of you I’d expect you to scream.”

“I’m not a pussy.” You snip, Dustin hitting your shoulder with this back of his hand. You roll your shoulder away from him, narrowing your eyes to your twin.

Max nods her head and turns, only getting five steps before she glances over her shoulder, noticing that you nor the four boys had moved to follow her, “You guys coming or what? I heard we should hit up Loch Nora, that’s where the rich people live, right?”

“Seriously?” You mock, Max’s face slightly falling at the irritation in your voice, “I thought you didn’t want to hang out with us because we’re ‘stalkers’?”

“Look, I didn’t mean that,” Max sighs, and you hum, tilting your head,

“Was that before or after you had your brother almost kill us?”

“Wait. What?” Will looks at you, confused, Max shaking her head and narrowing her eyes.

“You think I did that on purpose? He’s an asshole either way, and, he’s not my brother.”

“Whatever.” You look down at your bag, “Let’s just go to Loch Nora.”

. . .

“Another full size. Like, seriously, rich people are such suckers.” Dustin shoves another snickers bar into his bag, handing you a full (favorite/candy) bar so you smiled, elbowing his arm, “Wait.” Dustin looks at Max, “You’re not rich, right?”

“No.” Max laughs, “I live up Old Cherry Road.”

“That’s totally tubular.” Dustin speaks, looking at you to see you shaking your head, nose scrunched up, “What? Did I say it wrong?”

“Just don’t say it at all.” You demand, and Dustin rolls his eyes, glancing over when Lucas chucks another 3-Musketeers at him.

“Hey.” Max speaks up, your eyes shifting to her. “Look. I’m sorry I called you guys stalkers.” She shrugs. “But I mean. You guys were spying on me a lot.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit to that.” You breathe out a laugh, pulling out a sucker to unwrap. “But like I said earlier today, we don’t get a lot of new people here in Fucktown, so we get every chance we can to see a new face. Especially a cute one.”

You stop mid way of putting the sucker in your mouth, eyes widening in realization to what you had said. “Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Max shrugs, eyeing you. “I never said I didn’t think you were cute.”

“So you think I’m cute?” You grin, Max rolling her eyes.

“I’m not admitting it.”

“I’ll take it.” You click your tongue, looking over at Mikes shout for you. You see him knelt beside Will, whose hands are over his head in an attempt to curl himself into a ball.

“Will?” You drop your bag to move forward, kneeling down in front of your best friend so you could grab his wrists, noticing how he flinched roughly, “Will, it’s just me.”

“I saw it again.” Will breathes, his eyes snapping up to you. “The thing I saw at the arcade.”

Your brows furrow as you glance over to Mike, who shakes his head, informing you he didn’t know what Will was talking about. “Okay.” You murmur, pulling Wills hands so he began to stand up with you. “Let’s get you home.”

“Wait, you’re just going to stop trick or treating?” Max asks, and you glance at her, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Yes. I am. Dustin, take my bag. Eat my candy and I’ll pop your bike wheels.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Dustin clutches your bag and his to his chest, gasp loud. He watches as you link your arm through Wills, leading him down the street back towards Mikes house to call not only your mother, but Joyce.

“Are they, like, a thing?” Max asks, crossing her arms as she turns to the three boys left with her.

“Ew, gross.” Dustin scowls, nose scrunched. “They’ve been best friends since like, first grade.”

“Besides.” Lucas shifts his bag to hang over his shoulder. “Y/N likes girls.”

Max nods, slowly, glancing in the direction to where she could see your back, her feet bringing herself to follow after your brother.

[monaownsmyass]

Convince Her

Requested fic by anon. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Queen B

Pairing: Veronica Lombardi x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre: Fluff but like, a little smutty and angsty?

Rating: Uh... NSFW 🤭 Sexual scenes, strong language

Word Count: 6,793 (explains why I took so long doesn’t it)

A/N: Things seem to be going great with Veronica and MC but when V is forced to choose between MC and her online presence, things get a little bumpy. This is a continuation of Influence Her. This took me so long and so much energy and effort I wanna die 😭 I’ve been writing the whole day so if some parts are off, I’m sorry, I’m a little loopy rn. Anyway, V stans, come get y’all’s feast!

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard @satrinadia @toalltheboysididntlove @mypegasifly @samanthadalton @playallthechoices @queensayeed @fundamentalromantic (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

2nd 'Date'

"Where are you going?" Zoey asked curiously, eyeing me up and down as I approached the living room.

"Uh, the library, why?" I said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

I definitely was not going to the library but she didn't need to know that.

"The library, huh, babe?" she said skeptically and stood up from the sofa, walking towards me. "Right, to the library... wearing your push-up bra and that sexy perfume of yours."

"Um, yeah?"

"You're definitely not sneaking off to meet a certain someone, hm?" she hummed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I played dumb, pretending to busy myself by checking my bag. "I'm just going to... read..."

My roommate started circling me, gazing at my outfit that was the farthest thing from anything anyone would wear to stare at words on some pages.

Why did I say the library? I groaned and cussed inwardly at myself.

"So you're not gonna meet this special someone who so happens to be the queen of social media and is ranked top three in Belvoire and is one of the hottest persons here and also has the hots for you and grew on you only after the first date and made out with you outside our suite, which, I heard everything, by the way, and made you day dream about her for the past few weeks and-"

"I did not daydream about her!" I said defensively then immediately, my eyes widened.

"Oh? So you do know who I'm talking about."

I stayed silent, contemplating my next words as she stared at me.

"I'm talking about one Veronica Lombardi."

"I know who you're talking about," I snapped.

Zoey giggled and gave me a pat on the cheek. "Aww, look at you, scoring a second date with Vivi."

"It's not a date! We're just hanging out."

"Ah, so you are going out with her!"

I bit my lip and sighed. "So what if I am?"

"Eek! I'm so happy for my bestie!"

She crushed me in a hug and which took me aback and left me gasping for air.

"Thanks... Zo...!" I struggled to get out.

"Okay, okay," she pulled back and smooth out my clothes, pushing me towards the door. "Go get your girl!"

"She's not my-"

"Yeah, yeah, we've been through this before, now go!"

I smiled, shaking my head at Zoey before stepping out.

"Oh, and Bea?"

"Yeah?" I turned to look at her.

"If you're gonna shove your tongue down her throat against the door, try not to be so loud this time, okay?"

I grabbed a pen from the side table by the door and chucked it at her. "Zo!"

She clutched her stomach laughing as the pen bounced off her shoulder harmlessly.

"Bye, babe! Have fun," she blew me a kiss as I finally walked out.

~*~*~

5th Date

"Oh! Veronica!"

"I love it when you moan my name," she groaned against my neck where she was left aggressive nips and kisses, no doubt leaving her mark on me. I felt her smirk against my skin. "You sound so hot."

We found ourselves in her car after our date at the park. And yeah, yeah, I admit, it was a date. What was meant to be a sweet, innocent kiss turned into a heated make out session with me on her lap and her hands on my ass, guiding me to move against her.

I ground myself harder into her, her words making me whimper and encouraging me even further. Her lips travelled further down to the exposed skin of my chest that was left uncovered by my buttoned shirt, leaving kisses.

"Mm, V! I need to feel your lips on mine."

My hands that were wrapped around her neck brought her face up to mine and I smashed my lips against hers in a fiery passion. She moaned against my lips and I felt a shot of heat rush through my body at the gorgeous sound, making me groan in return.

I felt a hand slip down to my thigh, giving it a squeeze while the other moved around my waist and pulled me closer into her. She bit my lower lip, making me shiver in her arms.

"Oh, you like that, huh, beautiful?" she teased with a smile.

The hand that was on my thigh quickly moved around to give me a sharp slap on the backside. I collapsed onto her, gasping as I felt myself getting soaked, still grinding against her.

"You liked that too, hm?" she said cockily. "Such a naughty girl."

"God, you're so annoying," I grumbled between breaths and straightened up. "You talk to much!"

I forced her head into my cleavage where she hummed and immediately began nipping at the skin that wasn't covered by my bra. "Thank fuck I found a way to shut you up."

I felt her chuckle against my chest as her hand on my thigh crept up under my skirt, massaging as she went. It approached dangerously close to where I wanted her the most and I was sure she could feel the heat radiating from between my legs. I squeezed them together, wanting to some sort of pressure against my center.

"Please, V," I whined. "I need you to touch me. I need to feel you."

She lifted her face from my breast. "Touch you? Where?" she responded playfully, smiling. Her hand grabbed onto my thigh. "Here?" Then moved up to cup my chest. "Or here?" And then further up to my next to clutch at my throat. "Or did you mean here?"

"Fuck you," I cussed at her but with a grin, grasping her hand and brought it down between my thighs, gasping when her hand made contact with my damp panties under my skirt. "Here."

She kissed along my jaw and made her way up to my ear where she bit my earlobe and whispered huskily into my ear, "You're so wet for me, beautiful."

I let out a loud moan when I felt her hand slip into my underwear, working her hand back and forth. "I've wanted this since we first hung out together."

"Not since you first saw me?" Veronica spoke teasingly into my ear. Her fingers moved faster and I threw my head back with my eyes closed, panting hard.

"No comment," I managed to get out even though my thoughts were clouded in desire and pleasure wrecked my body.

"Looks like you're gonna have to wait a little longer," she smirked and took her hand away. I whimpered from the lost of contact and glared daggers at her.

"What?!"

"What?" she asked back laughing, casually taking her fingers in her mouth.

"You're such a jerk!" I slapped her shoulders in disbelief. "Why can't you just finish me off?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"God, you're insufferable!" I huffed and got off of her, plopping myself back onto the passenger's seat.

"Aww, you're adorable when you're mad," she cooed and pinched my cheek. "I promise to make it up to you."

I swatted her hand away but felt myself start smiling. "You better watch out, Lombardi. Next time is gonna be hell for you."

She looked at me in the eyes and the intensity in them did nothing to calm my libido.

"Why are you threatening me with a good time, darling?"

I rolled my eyes at her even though I could feel the heat creep up to my cheeks. "I'm gonna tease you till you're begging me to stop."

"And what if I do the same?" She moved in closer to me.

"Then I'd say," I whispered, our lips skimming each other's, not quite touching. "Game on."

~*~*~

8th DATE

"I still can't believe you brought me to an arcade! I haven't been to one since I was a kid."

"You and me both," Veronica laughed as she grabbed my hand, making my heart leap. "I haven't been here in years!"

We played a bunch of games, trying to outdo the other by seeing how many tickets we could get from the same machine. I clutched the heap we won so far in one arm as I giggled along with her, letting her lead me to the next arcade machine. "I definitely won that last one."

"No way! I swear you were cheating."

"How would I cheat at skeeball?" I laughed.

"Maybe you leaned in closer when I wasn't looking!"

"That wouldn't help at all. Plus, I saw you staring at me the entire time." I looked at her pointedly with a brow raised.

"You have no proof."

We laughed and I moved my arm to wrap around her bicep. "What do you think we can get with all these tickets?"

"Plenty of stuff, but we aren't done yet," she glanced back at me with that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.

"V... What else do you have planned?" I asked cautiously.

"You'll see."

"Are you gonna get us into trouble?"

She gave me a lazy grin. "Maybe."

She brought me to a machine at the corner of the arcade. It was decorated with rockets and stars and anything else to do with space. There was barely anyone around since it was a weekday but this side of the place was completely deserted.

"No one comes to this part 'cuz it's supposedly the hardest games to win tickets," she laughed, shaking her head. "I honestly can't believe it's still here after all this time."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later, right now, I'm gonna tell you what you have to do."

She lead me a few paces away from the machine. "Okay, so I'm gonna do a little tinkering and I'm gonna walk away. After a while, it's just gonna start spurting out a bunch of tickets, so you just gotta take 'em and leave."

"Wait, what-"

But she already started walking towards the machine. She shot me a wink over her shoulder and placed a finger over her lips.

She nonchalantly looked at the machine, inspecting it from different angles. She bent down and reached behind it then under, fumbling around until she finally stood up. She gave it a hard jerk and the machine gave out a loud whirr.

"Hey, you! Stop!"

We both whirled around to see a worker pointing at Veronica and rushing towards her.

She ran past me, smiling. "Well, that looks like my cue to leave!"

"Oi! Get back here!" the worker shouted and started racing after her around the arcade while she laughed joyfully.

I had to stifle my giggles behind a fist as I watched the scene unfold.

God, this was amusing.

Veronica sprinted out of the building and apparently the worker had enough of chasing her. He returned to the machine and gave it a brief check before walking away.

Soon enough, it started shooting out a long stream of tickets that seemed never-ending. I quickly started gathering them in my arms that were already full of the tickets we won.

'V!' I sent her a quick text. 'Get your ass back here!'

She sent me the laughing emoji and I rolled my eyes at the screen but I couldn't help but let out a small smile.

'Alright, alright, I'm gonna try and sneak back in.'

A few minutes later, Veronica was back by my side and helping me stuff all the tickets into a bag which I had no idea where it came from.

"Where did you even get this?"

"I came prepared," was all she said.

I just shook my head at her as the machine continued to spit out the tickets.

After what seemed like forever, it finally stopped and we walked away, giggling and pretending like nothing happened.

"Where did you learn how to do that?

"My brother and I used to do this when we were younger," she explain and reached to hold my free hand. My stomach filed with butterflies as she intertwined our fingers together and I smiled. "We used to come to this very arcade. He taught me how to rig the machine and soon enough, we started doing this every other week. It was our version of bonding time." Veronica smiled at the memory and looked at me.

"I didn't know I've been going out with a felon," I teased.

"Nah, think of it like a Robin Hood situation."

"You gave the tickets to other kids?"

"When we were feeling generous."

"And how often was that?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

I laughed at her, giving her an amused look as we made our way to the redemption prize centre and looked at the wide range of selection for us to choose from.

"What would you like?" V turned to me and asked.

"Hmm, why don't you pick out something for me?"

She snaked an arm around my waist and bring me into her, making me lose my train of thought for a moment. "You sure about that?" She kissed my cheek.

"Mm, I'm regretting it now."

"Too late," she spoke. She spun me around and instructed me to close my eyes and ears.

"But why?"

"'Cuz I want to surprise you."

I groaned but complied. "This is dumb," I muttered.

"You're just no fun."

"What's that?" I shouted, pretending I didn't hear her. "Did you say something? Sorry, my ears are covered."

She laughed and stepped in front of me, holding the prize behind her back.

"What is it?"

She pulled it out and held it up to my face, grinning proudly at me.

"A board game?"

"For our next date," she explained.

My heart burst with joy at her words. While I was sure it was already a given that we'd have more dates in the future, it was so sweet to see her already thinking about our next one already.

"You're just begging to get your ass kicked again, huh? Today wasn't enough?"

She waved a hand at me. "Pft, as if. I let you win today. Next time, no mercy."

"Is that so?" I moved in closer to her.

"Mhm," she hummed. "Why don't we make things more interesting."

"I'm listening," I whispered and took her hips in my hands, bringing her closer into me.

"The winner has to punish the loser, however they see fit," she smirked.

"I like that idea. You better get ready to lose, Lombardi."

Her face moved closer to mine. "In your dreams, Hughes."

Right before our lips met, we heard a shout that made us jump back.

"You!" It was the worker from earlier.

"Time to get out of here," V tapped me on the shoulder and held onto my wrist.

We both ran out of the arcade, hand-in-hand, giggling as the man shouted after us. I looked at Veronica and saw a child-like gleam in her eyes which was absolutely adorable. It was obviously she used to get up to trouble when she was a kid. Thrill ran through my body as we ran along the sidewalk under the night sky and I could feel the adrenaline pumping in me.

Eventually, we stopped running and looked back. We stared at each other, breathing hard and then doubled over laughing.

I glanced over at her to find her smiling back at me with that heart-stopping smile of hers.

And in that moment I realised, I really liked Veronica Lombardi.

~*~*~

12th DATE!

"Come here."

I grabbed the collar of her shirt and tugged her into me then pushing her up against the wall.

"Yes ma'am," she teased and pressed our lips together. One of my hands tangled in her hair while the other fumbled around, searching for the door knob of my dorm.

"Zoey isn't in?" she asked against my lips.

"Don't know, don't care."

I pushed myself further into her and ran my hand up under her shirt and over her chest, making her groan.

"Why didn't we go to my room then?"

"Mine's closer," I whispered hurriedly as the door clicked open. "And I need you now."

I pushed Veronica past the door, never breaking off the kiss.

"Hey, ba- Oh!" Zoey stopped herself in surprise.

I walked Veronica back to the direction of my room, hands never leaving each other's bodies and lips never parting.

"I'm guessing you guys had a good date, then," Zoey added.

We crashed into the kitchen counter on the way to my room. Veronica's hand were all over me as she kissed her way down my neck.

"Mm!"

"Good to know, babe," Zoey replied.

I ignored her and finally pushed V towards my room, finally making our way past the door.

"Have fun you two," my roommate said jokingly as I shut the door behind us and shoved Veronica on the bed, straddling her.

We sure would.

~*~*~

"There she is!" Zoey cheered as I walked into our suite after class the next day.

"Uh, hey?"

"The sex was that good, huh?"

"Zo!"

"What?" she asked, laughing. "You're the one that barged in here groping and sucking the soul out of your girl as if I wasn't sitting on the couch or anything."

"I'm sorry!"

I was going to continue but she waved me off.

"I don't need to hear some lame excuse about how horny you were, I heard it all. Till an ungodly hour in the morning too like damn, you both really went at it, huh?"

"Zoey, please!" I groaned and hid my face behind my hands, heat making its way to my cheeks.

I walked towards the fridge and Zoey followed me.

"You're even walking a little funny," she giggled.

"Stoppppp!" I playfully shoved her even though I knew it was true 'cuz I still felt a little sore.

"Aw, no need to be shy! You definitely weren't last night," she smirked at me cheekily. "'Oh, V! Yes! Don't stop, please, god!'"

"That's it!" I walked off towards the direction of my bedroom. "Conversation is over."

"And then she went, 'Mmm! Bea, right there! Fuck!'" Zoey mimicked teasingly.

"Bye, Zo!" I said as I shut my room with her laughing her ass off.

~*~*~

Nth DATE!!!

I woke up to find myself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms. The familiar warmth and comfort of the embrace made me smile.

I felt the arms hug me tighter and a soft kiss was placed on my neck. I sighed in contentment and melted further into her clutch.

"G'morning, beautiful," I heard Veronica's sleepy voice whisper into my ear and my heart swelled.

"Morning, V," I yawned and turned in her arms to face her. She looked at me and smiled.

"What?" I giggled.

"Nothing, you just look really cute."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "God, V, it's too early in the morning for all your cheesiness."

"Cheesiness?" she laughed. "I'm not cheesy."

"You're like the cheesiet person I know."

"Well, even if I were, you're in my bed so it worked, didn't it?" She gave me a crooked grin.

My face was burning at this point. "You're unbelievable," I groaned but the smile on my face gave away my true emotion.

She smirked. "I know, you told me last night, remember?"

Flashbacks to the night before played in my mind and I felt my entire body get hot.

"Veronica!" I grabbed the pillow beside me and gave her a whack on the head with it as she laughed. I looked at the time on my phone and sighed. "I gotta go."

"Aw, c'mon," she said as I moved to sit up and stretched. I glanced back to find her eyes running up me down my bare back. "Can't I hold you a little longer?"

She crawled towards me and wrapped her arms around me from the back, resting her chin on my shoulder. I felt her whole body pressed up against back back as she held me tight.

"You know I wouldn't leave if I had the choice," I moved my head back to kiss her cheek.

"You going soft on me, Hughes?" she teased as I rolled my eyes.

"I could say the same about you, Lombardi."

Our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss but not longer after, I pulled back which made her groan.

"I know, I know," I said as I stood up. "But I have class soon."

Before I could take a step, Veronica pounced on me and wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Ahh! V!"

"You can't escape now!" she giggled and attacked me with kisses.

"V! Stop!" I laughed along with her.

"No!"

"Please!" I wheezed out. "I'll make it up to you later, I promise!"

"Promise?"

"Yes!"

"Fine," she said sadly as she reluctantly let go off me and as much as I was protesting, I was already regretting it and thinking twice about going to class.

"I'll see you later, okay?" I told her as I reached for my clothes, putting on my bra and underwear before reaching for my pants while she did the same.

"Mhm," she hummed.

"V? Where's my shirt?" I asked, looking around.

"I don't know...," she spoke in a low, mischievous tone that caused me to whip my head to look at her.

There she was, one hand on her hip and holding my shirt in the other. She looked at me with a cheeky glint in her eyes and a small smirk on her lips. "Wherever could it have gone?"

"V, give it back," I stepped in her direction and reached for it but she held it out of my reach.

"Give what back? I don't know what you're about." She jogged past me to the other side of her room and grinned at me.

"Oh, that's what we're doing, huh?" I quickly moved towards her but she evaded me and jumped onto the bed instead.

"You're gonna try harder than that," she laughed and jumped off the bed as I lunged after her.

I started chasing after her around the room, the both of us giggling like children playing a game of catch.

"Veronica! Come back here!"

"You wish, Hughes!"

Eventually, I managed to corner her against the wall.

"Got you now," I grinned at her, both hands pressed against the wall to trap her. "Give it back."

Veronica was holding my shirt up, still out of my reach. She gave me an entertained look and shook her head. "No."

I was about to retort when an idea popped into my mind.

"Fine," I said and moved away from her. She looked at me curiously as I walked to her closet and started rifling through her clothes.

"Are you gonna steal one of my shirts?" she asked in amusement.

"Yes, I am."

One particular sweater caught my attention. She always wore it whenever she invited me over to her room. I removed it from the hanger as Veronica crept up behind me to see what I had chosen.

"Seriously? My favourite sweater?"

"Yup!" I tossed it over my head and felt the comfy fabric envelope my body. It smelt just like her which made me smile. "I think it's only fair. Since you're not planning on giving back my shirt, I'm gonna take your sweater then."

"Y'know what, darling?" she asked and pulled me into her, hand still holding onto my shirt. "I think it's a pretty fair trade."

"You do, hm?" I said teasingly. "Why don't we seal the deal with a kiss?"

Her arms wrapped around my neck as I brought her closer to me by the waist. She gave me a brash smile. "Just say you want to kiss me."

"Shut up."

Our lips met in a slow, tender kiss and suddenly, I didn't care that I was running late for class.

~*~*~

Aftermath...

"Veronica!" I heard a shrill voice shout from outside my room a while after Bea left.

I sighed and shouted back, "What do you want, Poppy?"

"Let me in!"

I groaned and got off my bed to open the door for her, knowing she would just scream until I let her in anyway.

"Yes?" I questioned, clearly annoyed.

She brushed past me and entered my room. An angel walked out only for the devil to come in. She turned to face me and crossed her arms. "We need to talk."

"About?"

She rolled her eyes. "Farmsville, duh!"

"Bea, you mean."

"Aw how cute," she mocked with a jeer. "Protecting your little girlfriend."

"Cut the crap, Pops. What is it?"

"Break off whatever fling you have going on with Bea," she said her name with distaste on her lips, cutting right to the chase.

I scoffed. "Why would I do that?"

"When was the last time you vlogged? Or live-streamed?" Poppy asked, ignoring my question.

I paused for a while. "Almost a week ago."

"A week, V. A week," she tsked and pretended to busy herself with the makeup on my dresser. "You used to do it all the time. Speaking of, why haven't you been vlogging or live-streaming your stupid dates? Embarrassed the Veronicats would find out their precious Vivi Lombardi is dating some farmgirl?"

"Oh, but you know Bea isn't just some farmgirl, don't you, Pops?" I smirked, challenging her. "You know Bea is coming for your crown, and fast. You're threatened by her."

I saw her shoulders tense in anger, as if she was gonna blow her lid as she scoffed defensively, "I am not!" She cleared her throat and spoke calmly, "Anyway, you're avoiding my question, V. Afraid to tell the truth?"

"For privacy," I said deadpanned but that wasn't true. If I had it my way, I would've told the Veronicats all about Bea since our first date but I promised her I wouldn't vlog and although it's been months since then, I didn't want to go back on my word even though I was sure Bea would definitely be okay with it.

"You among all people should know there's no such thing as privacy for social media stars," Poppy mocked.

"What's your point?" I asked, getting frustrated.

"My point," she whipped her head around to look at me. "Is that she's a distraction. No wonder you've barely had the attention you used to from your followers. Poor them, too."

I squinted at her. "You don't care about my followers. You never did, you only cared that so many people would listen to me. And in return listened to you. I know why you became friends with me, if we can even call it that, so don't pretend for a second you give a fuck about me or them."

"Oh, so you aren't as mindless as you seem," she raised a brow at me.

"I'm not stupid, Poppy."

"Well, you definitely seem to play that role well."

My jaw clenched in annoyance but I was determined to not give her the satisfaction of knowing it.

"But this benefits you, too, V," she continued in a condescending tone. "If she's gone, you can focus on your," she waved her hand, looking for the right word. "Career."

"You must have gone insane if you think I'm buying your bullshit for even a second."

"Oh, but you will."

"What is that suppose to mean?" I raised a brow at her, tired of games.

"You'll cut things off with Farmsville because if you don't," she paused, giving me a malicious smile. "I'll expose Veronica Lombardi for the fraud she is."

And suddenly, my entire body went cold.

~*~*~

"Veronica!" I heard that familiar voice I've been longing to hear for the past week call out to me and my heart wrenched.

It had only been a week but I missed Bea like nothing I've ever felt before. On top of that, there was also the guilt and shame of ignoring her instead of talking to her like what I should have done.

I wanted to run away on instinct but I forced myself to stay put. I've never felt so unsure in my life which was such a strange feeling since I always knew what I wanted. But this time, what I wanted was a little bit more complicated.

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, bracing myself to face her.

"Hey, Bea," I said awkwardly as I turned to look at her which made me even shudder. God, this so wasn't like me.

She looked at me weirdly for a second before concern took over her face which only me feel worse.

"Is everything okay?" Her brows creased as she spoke, her tone laced with worry. "You haven't been replying any of my calls or texts."

"I... I'm so sorry," my voice cracked and I gulped.

"V, what happened?"

The guilt was eating away at me and I couldn't hold it in any longer especially with the way she was looking at me. I looked around and remembered we were still outside the lecture hall.

"Can we talk somewhere private?"

She took me to her room and sat me down on her bed.

"Okay, what is it, Veronica?"

I steeled myself and looked her in the eyes. Then, I spilled everything Poppy said to me. By the time I was done, I expected to scream at me. To shout and cuss at me, to tell me to go to hell and that she never wanted to see my face again. To accuse me of leading her on and using her.

But instead, she was quiet.

I searched her face, looking for a reaction, any reaction, and where I expected to find anger and rage, I found something much worse.

Hurt and disappointment.

"Bea..."

"Veronica, no," she said firmly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to," I said lamely. 'Cuz honestly, how was I suppose to tell the girl you liked and have been seeing for months that you were torn between choosing her and your follower count? Even thinking about it made me cringe but that's what it was.

"God, V," she spoke sadly. "I don't even care that you're having trouble choosing between me and your followers. I know how hard you've worked for them just to throw it all away." She looked away. "I'm upset that you didn't even think to come to me to tell me about what was happening."

And I felt a million times worse than I already did.

"Bea..."

"I could've helped you. Don't you trust me?" her voice cracked. She stood up, not looking at me but I stood with her. "'Cuz I trusted you. And if Poppy pulled some shit like this on me I would've told you. I wouldn't even think twice about it."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how to. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, I just didn't know how to face her.

"Of course I trust you! I was just worried!"

"Worried about what?"

I bit my lip, wondering how I should phrase it. "That you wouldn't understand."

She scoffed and turned to face me. "Yeah, so much for trusting me, right? You didn't even give me a chance."

I knew she was right. "I'm sorry," was all I could say.

"That's all you have to say?" she asked, disappointed. She crossed her arms and shook her head, groaning. "God, I should've known better."

"What? What are you saying?" I asked warily.  

"Of course you were too good to be true. I should've seen it. I knew there had to be a reason I didn't like you when I first saw you." She stepped towards me, tears streaming down her face. "And this was probably why. You run away as soon as things get bumpy and ignore it. So goodbye, Veronica."

Her words were like a knife slicing through me. Piercing and jabbing at my soul but I deserved it. She pointed towards her door, not even wanting to look at me and I felt my heart start to shatter.

"Bea, please, let me explain."

"Explain what? About how I was I fool to think I meant more to you? About how I would've told you everything but you didn't even tell me about this? Save it!" she spat. "I don't want to hear it."

"Please, let me make it up to you," I begged. "Please, Bea."

She sighed. "How?"

"This past week was hell for me. I felt like absolute crap. And I know how that must have felt for you too and I'm sorry. I know it must have been frustrating being left in the dark."

"I was just so worried for you," she admitted in a small voice that made me want to kick myself.

"And I can't apologise enough for it," I continued and stepped closer to her. "And I'm not just saying that, I really do mean it. It killed me, not talking to you for the past week and I know I'm the only one to blame for that. But I felt guilty and ashamed but mostly, I felt so lost. Ever since I started spending time with you, you were like a light guiding me even if you didn't realise it. I opened up more to you than I ever had with anyone and I was becoming more comfortable showing the real me to others. And if there's anything I learnt in the past week, I'm ready, Bea. I'm ready to show my followers who I am."

I cautiously raised my hand to cup her cheek, afraid she would slap my hand away or pull back but she didn't. My palm met her face in a soft caress and I felt butterflies in my stomach. I wiped away her tears with my thumb as I spoke. "And I also learnt that I really like you Bea. Much more than I expected to. And I would give it all up for you. Of course I'm proud of what I've worked for but what's the point if I lose my happiness because of it? And you, Bea Hughes, are my happiness."

She looked at me, her piercing brown eyes bore into mine and I tried pleading with them to her, to show her how honest my words were, how I meant it all.

After what seemed like eternity, she rolled her eyes and breath out, "And you say you aren't cheesy."

Relief washed over my entire body and I let out a huge sigh.

"I gotta do what I gotta do to get you back don't I?"

"God, don't you ever stop?"

I gave her a small smile, feeling incredibly thankful. "Not if I can help it."

She pulled me into her and hugged me, resting her head on my shoulder. I felt chills run through my body as I rubbed her back.

"And for the record," she whispered quietly. "I like you a lot too, V."

My heart leapt in my chest at her declaration and I was so happy, I could cry. "Thank you, beautiful."

"So what are you planning to do now."

I closed my eyes and rested my head against hers.

"Expose myself before that bitch does it first."

~*~*~

"Are you ready?" she asked me as we stepped onto the courtyard. She looked at me to be certain. "Are you sure you want to this?"

I smiled at het softly and took her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. I couldn't express how grateful I was that she still by my side. "More than anything if it means I get to be with you."

We walked side-by-side to the middle of campus where a screaming Poppy was scolding a poor freshman for something stupid, no doubt.

"Hey, Glorified Barbie, over here!" I shouted at her.

She shot me a glare. "What the hell did you say to me?"

"Oh, so you do know I'm talking about you then," I laughed.

A crowd started to gather around us and my heart started racing but there was no backing down now. I had to do this. I looked at Chloe who was among the crowd. She held up my phone, live-streaming to my followers the shit storm that was about to happen.

Poppy turned red in the face and noticed Bea standing beside me. "For fuck sakes, V! Are you really gonna throw away all your years of pretending online just for that?" She pointed at Bea with a disgusted scowl on her face. "You must be dumber than I thought."

I was about to shoot back a snide remark in Bea's defense but I felt her hand lightly touch my arm. She knew what I was thinking and shook her head, reminding me not to get distracted from the actual reason we were here.

"If anything, Pops, you're the dumb one here." I stepped closer to her. "I have to admit, you got me there for a second. You really made me believe you had power over me. But you underestimate how loyal and understanding my followers are." I looked into the camera of my phone. "And if they aren't, then I don't think I want them."

"Veronica, you stupid cow! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, am I making you mad Poppy? That you you have nothing to hold over me anymore?" I taunted her with a smirk, no doubt infuriating her more. "That you can't control my followers anymore either?"

"This is ridiculous!"

"You heard it here first, Veronicats!" I grinned into the camera, finally feeling free. " Veronica Lombardi isn't who you think she is." I turned to Bea and my face soften looking at how proud she was of me. "Consider this my first step of rebranding."

I held out my hand to Bea and she gladly accepted it with a smile on her face.

"And one more thing," I said and held eye contact with the fuming bitch across the lawn. "Fuck you, Poppy!" I flipped her off and the crowd surrounding us gasped as I tugged Bea into a passionate kiss. One of my arms wrapped around her neck while the other cupped her face, my thumb gently stroking her cheek while hers was pulling me into her by the waist.

Among the sea of people, I heard Zoey whooping and cheering for us. "Hell yeah, babe! Get it!" And just like that, everyone started clapping and cheering along.

I felt Bea start laughing against my lips and I smiled into the kiss. I pulled back to grin rakishly at Poppy who was about to blow her lid off. Her face was red and she stomped her feet in anger. "Veronica! Stop this nonsense right now!"

"Or what? You'll expose me? Oh, wait!"

Bea and I giggled as Poppy shouted, "You better watch your fucking back! Both you and Farmsville! This isn't over!"

"Oh but it is, Pops!" I called out after her. "You have nothing over me now, so go find someone else to blackmail and manipulate!"

She lets out a shriek as she stormed off, leaving us in laughing in each other's arms with a crowd of supporters behind us. I walked towards Chloe and thanked her before taking back my phone to address my online audience.

"Well, Veronicats, there you have it," I gave them a winning smile, trying my best not to look at the comment I was currently being bombarded with. "I know you have a lot of questions right now, so leave 'em and I'll answer them in a Q&A later." I signed off in a much calm and collected manner than the usual high-energy outros I would give them. It was a small step but for the first time in years, I felt like I could finally breathe again.

I made my way back to Bea's side where the crowd started to dissipate.

"Well, you did it!" she cheered with a huge grin as she encircled me in her arms. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thank you, beautiful." I placed a kiss on her forehead and brought her closer into me to hug her tight, resting my cheek against hers.

"Are you scared?"

"Oh, I'm terrified," I laughed and she giggled along. "But having you by my side definitely helps."

I heard her scoff but her felt her cheek become warm against my own. "Cheesy Veronica is back at it again I see."

"But seriously," I whispered into her ear. "Thank you so much. For everything."

I felt her squeeze me. "Thank you for choosing me."

"You're worth it," I sighed. I thought about all the backlash I would get, from my manager, my followers, the haters, the general public, everyone. I think about all the followers and subscribers and support I'd lose and yet, nothing would be as bad as losing Bea.

So despite my worries and fears, my greatest comfort was in my arms and no matter what happened next, I knew I could face it with her.

"You'll always be worth it."

(More fics!)

[retphienix]

AND HERE IS WHERE MY SNARK HIT ME.

THIS *IS* GOOD, BUT LISTEN TO ME YOU JERKS.

YOU ALL WENT ON ABOUT THIS BEING THE GAME WHERE KIRYU DIES *SO LOUDLY* THAT I HEARD AND BELIEVED IT WITHOUT EVER LOOKING FOR SPOILERS!

AND.

YOU'RE.

RIGHT.

YOU JERKS!

This is the funniest god dang thing in terms of the meta of this series- in every dang game Kiryu dies and then they take it back, in EVERY ONE!

And then this *IS* the one where he 'dies' for real, but not! BUT IT IS!

BUT IT'S NOT!

YOU GUYS ARE TERRIBLE lol

Now as far as narrative threads here I do wanna say a little:

1) I do like this overall. It's a sacrifice, it allows him to 'die' for the series, it's bittersweet, all that.

Overall I give it a passing grade.

I do have ONE qualm with it.

2) It's just Kiryu running away again.

He keeps doing this. This game in particular makes it a point that his running away convinced Haruka to at the start, then he keeps saying he ran away too often and is done doing that, he tells people he's Yakuza despite trying to run (owning up to it), he does all these things to confront head on and stop running- then he just runs.

All that talk of running and his avoidance being what caused hurt- even his letter to Daigo is about how he ran from the responsibility and needed to apologize for it-

And then, yet again, he have Kiryu take on the martyr's cloak, take that sad sacrifice, and RUN AWAY AGAIN- KIRYU YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN!

It's being painted as a sad positive, it IS a sad positive, it DOES work, but it's taking the entire thing you said was your failure in life and DOING IT AGAIN!

Someone smack him upside the head.

Funny rant aside, this scene with Kiryu and Haruto's footsteps lining up made me tear up.

What a damned phenomenal series.

At this point I haven't touched Judgment or Lost Judgment, and I haven't touched the samurai era japanese exclusive stuff or the zombie spinoffs.

Just felt like framing some context.

As a whole, this main series is just fucking great man.

So many amazing morals and themes being explored, so many incredible gameplay hooks, just damned good.

For fun my meaningless ranking (again, for fun).

Yakuza 5 is number 1, I just can't stress enough how much it clicked for me. It's more fun to fight in than 6, it's characters are insanely well done, and the story is sick.

The Yakuza "K" trilogy is second, that's right I'm putting 3 games in 1 spot and including Zero with K1 and K2. But hear me out, all three are insanely good, and their positions in my list juggle too much, so here.

K1 introduced me to the series and I adore how it plays a ton. K2 hits as well. Zero is the flashiest in the series and I give a lot of credit for that- between the 3 you get such a damned good look at the series, I just like em a lot. And being later entries means their combat is NUTS.

Swapping styles in these games for instance far outweighs Y6 having a stable solo style, even if it's the way it is for thematic purposes.

Third is Y6 because I gotta be real, it concludes the story so well it has to be right after the golden 3 that display the game's core.

Y3 after that because it's solid. People might dislike hanging around the orphanage but I find it charming.

Y4 is doody poo poo. (It's "fine". I'm not still salty that the story is dumb and exists to shit on every character you could remotely like for whatever reason.)

Fun game. Love the series :)

I really didn't do too much in this one compared to 5, but I did what felt right to do. I really wanted to go completionist in 5, but in 6 I didn't find myself too hooked tbh? I liked the bar stuff for sure, but I think the combat being simplified is what wears me down.

The remake trilogy have a ton of work on that weakness, four and five have multiple characters with unique moves, so really the only game that shares this weakness is 3 and I gave 3 a pass because it's such an early entry and I was willing to give it a lot of credit despite me coming off the remake trilogy to play it.

That kinda did drag down my patience toward completionist challenges, which is a shame.

Ah well.

Amazing game.

(3/3)

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

previous chapter // read on A03 // @today-in-fic​

CHAPTER 7 3rd District Precinct 12:31 a.m.

The second wind finally arrived. I paced the floor in Interrogation Room 5 with arms folded tight across my chest. I felt like a gun ready to go off. My focus was on Theo Chambers, enforcer to Carlo Lodi. He sat handcuffed in his expensive blue suit with a shit-eating grin. After I got him processed I let him stew and he behaved, which was a bit of a surprise.

“I could do this all night, you know, “ I said standing at the edge of the table looking at the remains of a weak cup of coffee and half a pack of Morleys. “Even if we’re just sitting here in silence.”

I paused and listened for dramatic affect. “You know, I read somewhere that silence is golden but, I don’t think you like to keep quiet.” 

“How’s the jaw,” he responded with a puff of smoke and a tilt of his chin.   

I turned and pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table, dragging it purposefully across the floor creating a sound like nails on a chalkboard. 

“Well, you hit like a featherweight so a stiff drink and I was right as rain.” I said as I sat down. “Speaking of which, does Lodi get you to do all his heavy lifting? Use you like a trained dog; Theo attack! Theo come! Good boy Theo...”

“You wanna cut the bullshit?” he interrupted.

“Indeed I do. You want to tell me how long you’ve been running out of the Navy Yard?”

Theo cracked a smile and tapped his cigarette against the discolored ashtray. He then pinched it between his thumb and index finger, covering the end to hide the glow. Standard technique for someone who does a lot of their work in the shadows. I continued with my questioning.

“Is the taxi company your only front?”

“Mum’s the word, detective,” he said.

“Do the taxis only run in the southeast?” I pressed. 

Theo tucked the cigarette in the corner of his mouth then leaned back as far as he could. Silent, aside from the sound of the metal chain pulling across the top of the table. His cuffed hands knitted together. 

“Do the taxis run anywhere else in the District? Down Constitution Ave.? Down to the Tidal Basin? Over the bridge into Virginia?”

“Mum’s. The. Word,” Theo said pointedly, letting the cig hang from his lip. I was wired and on the edge. I rose and placed my hands on my hips. I resisted the urge to hit him; punch him square in the jaw, bloody his nose, pin him against the table. Really make him hurt. Instead, using better judgement, I turned on my heel and left the room, slamming the door behind me.

Several officers were in the hallway and scattered when they saw me. Word travels fast when you bring in a c-list celebrity from the crime sheets. I moved past them and their whispering and took a walk to the bullpen. The chorus of ringing phones and typewriters was in full swing. I approached my desk and took the liberty of kicking the unsuspecting wastebasket. It ricocheted and rolled away from where I was standing. A few heads perked up at the noise but returned to their work just as quickly. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. I was getting nowhere slowly.  

“Rough night?” I heard the captain’s voice from behind me.

“Just blowing off some steam,” I said with an exhale, “So far I haven’t gotten much out of our new friend Theo. I need to talk to his boss.”

“He’s already been questioned,” Skinner said as I crouched down to straighten up the wastebasket. I glanced at my shoes, which were probably ruined from traipsing around in the storm. Maybe on a day off I’d buy another pair. 

“Not by me,” I replied and started out of the bullpen back to the interrogation rooms. I went two doors down but before I could turn the knob, Skinner caught up and stopped me.

“Sir, may I ask what you’re doing?”

“I want to remind you that this is a valuable asset. I commend your effort in apprehending him and his enforcer,” he said in a low voice. I sensed there was more to that statement. This case already had too many hands involved.

“But you don’t want me to unravel this seemingly tightly knit case with my usual brand of questioning.”

Skinner squared his jaw.

“Oh, now I get it,” I continued. “You already talked to him and you were just going to leave it at that. No one else in or out?”

“Are you doubting my methods, Mulder?”

“I’m doubting the line of questioning,” my voice lowered and I clenched my fist, “We are so close to tying things together with this ring and Spender’s involvement. I need to see how far up this goes.”

“We already have the evidence to pin Lodi for Skinner’s murder,” Skinner said. I shifted my stance. “We just need something to narrow down where the heroin was being distributed. 

“That’s all I want to do. Because as soon as I get what I need, I’m going home. Believe me sir I want to close this and move on. This case has already taken up too much of my life.”

Skinner nodded. I knew I was walking into a high-stakes game with the house’s money and a cold shoulder from Lady Luck. My hand gripped the doorknob and I entered the smoke filled room. 

Another table, another ashtray, another handcuffed suspect. Carlo Lodi sat just like he did when I confronted him at the restaurant; an air of superiority trapped in a grey pin-stripped suit. breathed life into a superficial demeanor as cool as a summer breeze. 

“We meet again Mr Lodi,” I began as I pulled out the chair and took a seat. I unbuttoned the cuffs of my sleeves then rolled them up towards my elbow. The skin on my forearms felt clammy. I couldn’t wait to get into fresh, dry clothes when this was all over. 

“Quite the set-up you’ve got down at the docks. Smart to use a small crew. Less people to inventory when you get caught.”

“C’mon detective, you know how this works,” Lodi said twisting the ring on his finger, “I ain’t saying anything without my lawyer.”

I continued without missing a beat.

“Vincenti sure knows how to pick ‘em. What makes you hold the title of being his favorite croney? It can’t be your looks.”

“You’re getting nothing from me.”

“Oh I can keep going.”

“You think this is the first time I’ve been here? You think you’re being original?”

“I have evidence that connects you to Vincenti. I have proof you operate out of the Navy Yard not to mention proof that you murdered a city detective in cold blood. And if you won’t talk, perhaps your friend down the hall will.”

I watched him light up and take a long drag. Thick white smoke drifted out of his mouth and curled up towards his nostrils.

“Here’s the thing, detective; you got nothing on me. Not a damn thing. My hands are as clean as a nun’s habit. So if you want to listen to yourself talk, then go right ahead. I’ll finish this pack of smokes and wait for my lawyer.”

My second wind dissolved into a subtle breeze, taking the wind out of my sails. I knew his lawyer wasn’t marching through that door anytime soon. I didn’t want to paint myself into a corner. I considered going downstairs to retrieve the bullets that matched his gun. Rub his face in it. 

“Alright then,” I said as I pushed back in my chair, “I like the sound of my own voice. Who’s idea was it to use a taxi company, couldn’t have been you could it? Vincenti must have been riding around town and the idea just came to him right? Seems as though an awful lot of people must want a taste of that dust. Gotta give those pushers an extra cut for spreading the word about a top notch supply.”

 Lodi pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and cleared his throat.

“The pushers...they’re ants compared to us.” He grunted, “All of that product, all that demand, all because of us. They’d be nothing without us.”

Now we were getting somewhere.

“Are those pushers driving your cabs too? Skimming a little more off the top, just a little closer to that brass ring. Or are you threatening folks just trying to make an honest living, taking their livelihood so you can move the product. Unless, you start recruiting smart looking door-to-door salesmen to sell the dope”

“Yeah, then nice people in the suburbs would be hopheads,” he chuckled at himself, “Mary and Joe with their kids and their white picket fence, flying high getting a little taste of the city. Going mad when they can’t get another fix. Vincenti does say business is business.”

The pop of a match and familiar scent of a Lucky Strike. He waved his hand to extinguish the match and tossed it on the table. I rose from my seat and walked to the opposite corner of the room, glancing at my watch. I needed a drink. My stomach turned at the thought of another boiled down cup of coffee. I looked at Lodi and he flicked away some ash. 

“Get comfortable. You’re going to be staying the night.” I said then exited the room.

———

I woke with a start and realized I was still at the precinct. It was a brief respite, maybe thirty minutes of a fitful sleep. A cramp pinched at the side of my neck thanks to how my head was turned towards the back of the couch. The strap from my holster dug into my ribs; I should have taken it off before I laid down. I checked the time and slowly sat upright burying my face in my hands. My head was swimming, my throat felt raw. I stood and went to the water cooler, grabbed a paper cup and pushed the tab. I took a swig, listened for the gurgle then poured in some more. 

I walked past my desk to see if any messages had been left in my absence. Nothing. It was just as I left it. Officer Pendrell caught my attention.

“Hey Mulder, the suspect in room 3 was asking for some water a little while ago. Do you know if anyone went back in there?”

“I’m not sure. I took a cat nap but I was going back in there anyway. Have we heard anything from his lawyer?”

“Don’t think so. But I’ll check it out.”

I loosened my tie as I strode down the hall. My shoulders felt stiff as I adjusted the leather strap of the holster.

“Rise and shine,” I said as I entered the room and snapped my fingers. I felt my voice catch in my throat when I saw Lodi on the floor, his arms stretched overhead at an unnatural angle with hands still cuffed to the table. His lips were purple, his eyes looked bulged in their sockets. And then there was the smell. I covered my nose and mouth as I observed the horrible pale tint to the skin on his face. There was a puddle of sick on the floor and some remnants down his front.

“I need some help in here NOW!” I yelled out the door then approached his seemingly lifeless body. His wrists were a dark red from where the cuffs were cutting off the circulation, his fingers and hands already looked dead. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” a voice said behind me, I looked over my shoulder and saw Pendrell hesitantly standing in the doorway.

“Do you have keys?” I asked. He nodded and fumbled in his pocket. I did the honors. With the second cuff released Lodi’s body fell to the floor with a wet smack. The smell hit me again.

“Was it a heart attack?” Pendrell offered as he came over. Two other officers crowded in the doorway to get their looks in. 

“Someone get Captain Skinner,” I said then turned my attention back to the body. I leaned closer and noticed a white trail down the corner of his mouth, crusting on the lips. Pendrell rounded the other side of the interrogation table and bent down, covering the lower part of his face.

“Mulder look.” He was pointing at a discarded water cup. The wheels started turning. I stood quickly and left the room, leaving Pendrell to document the scene. I went two doors down and saw Theo Chambers in a similar state. He had collapsed across the table, cuffed hands hung off the edge. The smell didn’t hit as hard but there was more blood. Theo had a thick smear of it under his nose down to his mouth. I left the room and charged down the hall, meeting Skinner.

“What the hell happened here, Mulder?”

“Both suspects are dead. I think they were poisoned.”

“Excuse me?”

“Someone...someone knew. Somebody discovered they were caught and wanted to rub them out.”

“Who would have known that?”

“It’s the mob, sir. Word travels fast.”

“Mulder...Hey! Mulder!”

“I need to get the boys in forensics up here. No one touches these two!” I was rambling, I could feel it. Things took a turn faster than a Grand Prix driver. I heard dissonance in my ears as I found the closest telephone. I pulled the rotary to dial the lab. I closed my eyes to try and center myself, listened to the ring in the earpiece. I hoped one of the boys was awake down there. Another ring and a groggy voice answered.

“Langley, it’s Mulder. Are Byers and Frohike with you?”

I could hear a yawn before he said, “Frohike called it a night a few hours ago but Byers is still burning the midnight oil.”

“I need the two of you up here with your bag of tricks. We’ve got a couple of stiffs in the intero rooms.”

“Wait a minute, someone dropped them off?”

“No. It’s a fresh scene.” I wiped my brow.

There was a pause and I heard him adjust the phone.

“We’ll be right up.”

[silver-wield]

Battle Banters

I might've missed a few party switching callouts because I don't switch active fighter from Tifa, but all the others I heard in battle and they're listed in order from the first time they occurred.

Cloud Strife solo battle call outs.

Nothing to it.

That it?

Concentrate.

Not bad.

Cya.

It's over.

Enough.

Let's go.

That's that.

Bring it.

Piece of cake.

You're dead.

A job's a job.

Should be easy.

Steady.

Brace yourself.

Seriously?

Job's done.

Going in.

Sorry.

Easy.

No turning back.

It's on now.

Tough, but doable.

Heads up, guys.

Gimme a break.

Whatever.

Think you got my number?

Most of these sound like he's trying to encourage himself. As chapters progress Cloud drops some earlier ones in favour of new ones, only to abandon them too. He has a few solid phrases by the end of the game, but a lot more battle banter with Barret and Tifa.

Some cut scene callouts only appear in the cut scene and not in regular battle.

His main call out is "Nothing to it," and functions as both an opening and closing statement. He shares a few call outs with Tifa (labelled in red).

Barret Wallace solo battle call outs.

Ain't got nuthin on me.

And there you have it.

Oh, we're done here.

Check out this shit right here.

That all you got?

Get your ass outta here.

Hey, Cloud, hang back while I deal with these pests.

Do yall know who you're dealing with?

Oh yeah, another one in the bag.

Boom, gotta love it.

Hope you don't mind if I fill you full of holes.

You goin down.

Suck on this.

And don't come back.

Yall never had a chance.

You're going down one way or another.

Cocky little bastards, aincha?

Suck it.

*Victory fanfare*

You really wanna throw down with me?

Ain't no thing.

How'd you like that?

Choke on it, asshole.

That's how it's done.

Check this shit out.

You almost had me there.

You want some of this? Then come get it.

Open wide, and suck on this.

Keep pouring it on.

Barret talks the most of everybody and swears the most. He has very few battle banters, but mostly looks to Cloud for praise and co operation with Tifa.

Barret's most used battle cry is "You really wanna throw down with me?"

Tifa Lockheart solo battle call outs.

Would kill for a shower.

Cya.

Bye.

You asked for it.

That's that.

It's over.

Come on.

No surprises there.

Bring it on.

Gotcha.

Too late.

That's a win.

Worked up a good sweat.

Pour it on.

Finish em off.

Bingo.

You're gonna feel this one.

No more games.

Coming through.

Give em your all.

Keep it up.

If this is what you want.

Got your number!

Nothings gonna stop me.

Seriously?

Don't think you'll walk away from this.

Gotta make a stand.

Time to fly.

Focus.

You're down.

Give it up.

Get em.

No more games, it's over.

I won't give up.

Let's finish it.

Tifa's got a few solid phrases she repeats which encourage herself and her teammates, even if they don't reply.

Tifa's most common battle cry is "You're gonna feel this one."

She has some flirty battle banter with Cloud and co operative, friendly banter with Barret, but doesn't initiate battle callouts, which is in keeping with her character of not looking for a fight.

Aerith Gainsborough solo battle call outs.

Go on.

*screams*

Okay then.

Glad that's over.

Moving on then.

*whimpers*

Just go away.

You could always run away, right?

And we're safe.

Sorry, but we're in a rush.

Err, we'll this isn't good.

Just leave us alone.

This one's for you.

Stay back.

Now that's just mean.

That wasn't so bad.

You don't wanna make me mad.

C ya around.

I really wish you wouldn't.

One more shot.

Not being playable for as long as the others, she doesn't have as many call outs.

The most common phrase she says is "this one's for you".

Cloud's banters are protective towards her, with her arguing his role. She has no battle banter with anyone else.

Cloud -> Tifa Battle Banter

Opening battle banter

Keep your cool. No need to worry

Here I go. Right behind you.

Don't hold back. You got it.

Won't be tough. Of course not.

This won't take long. Not at all.

No match. Not at all.

Now, get in there. Yup, I hear you loud and clear.

Heads up. Here I go.

Let's end this quick. Not a prob.

Move aside. Make way, coming through.

Active fighter switch (tbf I kept forgetting to do this so I might have missed some)

It's on you. OK, let's go

Deal with that. All set.

End of battle banter

You're good at this. Told you so.

Keep those gloves up. Sure thing, coach.

Just like that, okay? I gotcha.

Tifa -> Cloud battle banter

Opening battle banter

Move over. Coming through.

Active fighter switch

Good luck. Let's do this.

Watch yourself. Taking over.

Mind taking over? I got this.

You're up. My turn.

Good luck. Alright.

You're up. I got this.

End of battle banter

None.

Cloud -> Barret battle banter

Opening battle banter.

Try to keep up. (...)

Don't get in my way. Are you trying to start something?

Time to do you thing, big man. You better watch my back.

Give em hell. I'm gonna enjoy this.

You ready? I was born ready.

Give em hell. And then some.

Turn up the pressure. Sounds like a plan.

Give it all you got. It'll be my pleasure.

Go all out. Oh I plan to.

Active fighter switching

Don't overdo it. Yeah, I'll overdo it

It's my time to shine. Or go down in flames.

.... need my help do ya?

Take the lead. Guess it's my turn.

It's on you. About damn time.

End of battle banter

No time to celebrate. Sure there is.

That was easy. Sure it was.

We make a decent team. Who would've thought?

Keep it up, man. Yeah, you too.

Good job. Whatever, man, let's go.

Barret -> Cloud

Opening battle banter

We gotta whole lotta company. No shit.

Don't even think about running. Why would I?

Don't mind us yall, just passing through. If only.

Don't hold nuthin back. Copy.

Let's give em hell. And then some.

Let's do this. Copy.

This'll be a walk in the park. Finish it quick.

Check this shit out. Okay.

Active fighter switching

Do your job merc. Shut up and move over.

End of battle banter

That was something else. That was nothing.

*Victory fanfare* *Sighs*

Hey did you see me in action? Must've missed it.

That was pretty damn good, huh? Let's keep it up.

Now that is what I call teamwork. Hmmph.

Keep it coming. One step at a time.

That was pretty damn good, huh? Let's keep it up.

Tifa -> Barret Battle Banter

Opening battle banter

None

Active fighter switching

Good luck. Alright.

You got this? I got this!

End of battle banter

None

Barret -> Tifa Battle Banter

Opening battle banter

Ain't no walking away from this. So you better run.

Ain't nothing to worry about. Not a bit.

Hit em hard and fast. Sounds good.

Gonna take you all out. One by one till your all done.

Getting tired of your shit. This is ridiculous.

Time to go wild. You said it.

Active fighter switching

Give em hell. All set.

End of battle banter

Nothing's gonna stop us. You would say that.

Let's move move move. Not so fast.

Hell yeah. Maybe dial it back a little?

Triple A Trio Battle Banter

Come on guys we've almost got this. Bring it on. Let's show em what we're made of.

That's that. Sure hope no one else knows we're here. Come on, we need to move.

Cloud -> Aerith Battle Banter

Opening battle banter

Leave this to me. (...)

This isn't a game, focus. Trust me, I'm focused.

I've got this. Doncha mean we've got this?

Try to stay behind me. That way I can cover your back.

I'll protect you. I'm pretty good at protecting myself you know.

Leave this to me. I don't think so.

Active fighter switching

(...) So, it's my turn?

End of battle banter

None

Aerith -> Cloud Battle Banter

Opening battle banter

Get em. (...)

It's awake. Gonna wish it kept sleeping.

No need to get rough. Stay back.

Active fighter switching

None

End of battle banter

Someone looks like they're in their element. I've fought scarier things in my sleep.

That wasn't so bad. (...)