#hm travis

[strange-doll-child]

Movie posters, hehe

[disregardcanon]

wilderness baby lives and it’s a BIG struggle but the survivors manage to keep the baby alive until they’re rescued a year later and of course they’re all feral about it. that is THEIR baby. shauna, as the person who always gets jealous of other people, gets upset about Her baby becoming Our baby, but after she has some fits she comes to terms with it taking a village and all.

when they get rescued shauna lies about the father because she doesn’t want to deal with the ramifications of the baby being jeff’s in the eyes of society and immediately throws travis under the bus with it, which makes everything very complicated with the rest of the survivors but, like, it’s better than involving JEFF!

travis: this sucks but at least i get like, a legal right to the baby here. that’s more than nat and lottie and tai and van and misty get.

[m--rtyr]

Okay so… MCD S2, right.

Travis says that Enki Island hasn’t been hassled by the Demon Warlock too much for the past 100 years because of his mother (and we know a portion of that time, she was dead and it was Travis keeping him at bay)

So like.

I’m confused.

How old was she?….

How old is Travis?

[jackals-ships]

another thing that i FORGOT about but remembered bc im doin it while doing laundry is dog hums and sings but Only When 100% Alone (/thinks they're alone) they don't have the prettiest singing voice and it makes them feel Awkward to be perceived

which means im chewing on the concept of saturn learning it first PURELY by accident, dog thot the crew was asleep and busy in various capacities and didn't hear him at first

[officialgleamstar]

Rodie and Prucoradob for ship bingo pleeease ;P xx

ship bingo

hello dora :D <3 i already answered rodie here, but hell yeah, prucoradob time. DOUBLE BINGO !!! yes i ship them both because of and also in spite of canon XD

[pagesofkenna]

I'm sure someone's already said it, but Astarion has big Travis Matagot energy. every time he does that slutty 'hm?' when I'm trying to talk to him I get knocked over by it

[t4tdanvis]

do u ever listen to a song that has no/very little actual words but the Vibe fits a character perfectly. bc this is how i feel every single time i listen to geoxor

[llycaons]

oh a little while ago I speculated (based on another person's tags) that the opening scene in ep1 took place after the rescue and there were girls still there in the mountains, but I rewatched that episode recently and misty took her mask off so we know it was the girls who survived

[sunfaggot]

Copper and Travis saying that they're practically adults is both funny but also really sad because they're both used to being treated as older than they actually are. Copper being treated as a man when he's just a boy by his uncle who wants him to just grow up already. Travis being treated like he's just as mature as his father older brother Father Michael etc etc and therefore being put down whenever he acts immaturely.

[siren-kins]

Idk if the religion things should go on the myst blog or if I should make a separate one for worshipping the Divine

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Granny's Sugar Cookies

Summary: Working in Hero Force’s mail room is the equivalent of being a poison taster for monarchs – it wasn’t a matter of if a disgruntled citizen was going to send Hero Force a bomb, but when.

Based off this prompt (X)

--------.

Travis, your supervisor, makes you take Disposal Training every two weeks to keep your skills fresh for the inevitable day something does show up in the mail.

“You’re lucky,” Travis says with his wide arms folded over his chest. He still wears the mail uniform from the 90’s with the pale blue, short-sleeved button down and the darker blue pinstripes. The Hero Force mask covering half of his face is in the new “regulation black” that every Hero Force personnel has to put on at the start of every shift. You hear Travis complain that they won’t let him wear the old brown one a lot. “But luck won’t ever take you further than training, kid.”

You aren’t a kid. In fact, Travis could almost be your kid. Your pension isn’t supposed to start for another three years, so that’s how long you need this job to last. There are rumors that Travis is trying to get you to quit before then as a way to prevent you from collecting retirement benefits from Hero Force. Save the company some money. You don’t think that’s true. You think that the extra training every second week is actually Travis’ way of being kind – you get to sit in the air-conditioned office for two hours and watch the same videos with your feet propped up.

Still, it is unusual that you haven’t opened anything criminal yet. Lots of people cautioned you against taking the job. Your neighbors, friends, your husband…even your eldest -who also works for Hero Force and who suggested it to you in the first place. They said it was the equivalent of being a poison taster for monarchs – it wasn’t a matter of if a disgruntled citizen was going to send Hero Force a bomb, but when.

“I don’t think it happens as often as people think,” you’d told your husband and child when the offer letter came. What you didn’t say was we don’t have a choice. You’d laughed and petted the coffee table. “Now maybe we can think about getting this old thing refinished, hm?”

Three years isn’t a long time anymore, not with a good 63 of them already under your belt. When the financial advisor ran the numbers and grimly told you how long you’d need to stay in the workforce, you’d been relieved. You’re fortunate that being a baker for most of your life has kept you reasonably fit and that you’re used to being on your feet.

Still, eight hours is a long time for anyone to be staring at bland white envelopes and brown boxes wrapped with yellow tape, so you’re thinking longingly of the bath you know your husband will have drawn for you at home when the blast doors slam down over the exit, trapping you and three of your coworkers in the sorting room.

You blink at the heavy metal plate that nearly took your (seemingly ever-growing) nose right off your face. The WARNING light hanging above the door is lit, casting the room in a striking red glow.

“You scanned that here?” Ring asks. He’s over at the sorting table, standing over the new hire’s shoulder. He gapes down at the screen held between her hands. It shows an x-ray of the box sitting innocuously on the sorting table. “Boxes with that dimension are supposed to be scanned in the disposal room!”

“It’s my last package,” the new hire says. You have to strain to hear her voice despite only being a dozen feet away. She’s already been given a nickname – Mouse. Fear makes her even quieter than before. “I-I thought—It’s to Strongwoman. Who would even think sending her a bomb would work? She got hit by a bus last week and the bus lost.”

“You know we don’t sort based on recipient,” Hawk says, pinching the bridge of her nose under her mask. She’s the veteran in the room, gaining her nickname from being the longest surviving member of the mail room after Travis and for having the highest number of successful disposals in history. Hawk eyed. “Your scan just told the defense system there’s a bomb in a vulnerable part of headquarters. We’ll be trapped here until they can get Demolition out to disarm it.”

“Or until it goes off,” Ring offers helpfully. Ring stands for ring the alarm, something he’s always doing. “Which it probably will before Demolition flies over from freakin’ California.”

Mouse hiccups. Her hands tremble on the scanner. “I-I’m sorry. Maybe it’s not…it could be something else?”

Ring and Hawk look at each other over her head. Ring tilts his head to the scanner. Hawk’s lips thin.

Translation: Unlikely.

“Maybe,” Hawk says. She puts a comforting hand on Mouse’s shoulder. “The only way to tell for sure is to open it.”

“Which protocol says we shouldn’t do,” Ring says.

You rub your nose. You don’t have to go to the bathroom this second, but you know your body. Protocol is not to carry a phone in the sorting room, so none of you have a way to you’re your husband and let him know you’ll be late. “How long do you think it will take for a disposal team to arrive? Supposing there’s one besides Demolition.”

Three heads whip towards you. There’s a range of emotions there, from surprise to dismay to dread.

“Oh no,” Mouse whispers, “I’ve killed Granny too.”

“If you survive, no one will ever forgive you,” Ring says.

Mouse’s eyes well with tears. “R-really?”

“Even Neon loves her muffins—"

Hawk hits him over the head hard enough his mask slips down over his eyes. While he curses and sets it to rights, she says, “Sorry, Granny. We’ll probably be waiting a while.”

You tug at your cardigan and shuffle over. The box is too big to be scanned in the sorting room – about the size of a case of flour you used to get delivered to the shop. The three of them make room for you on their side of the table. You squint at the screen. “What type of bomb is it?”

“Not like any I’ve seen before,” Hawk says. She takes the scanner from Mouse and angles it towards you. The box is shown in green and black lines. Inside is a cube of white and some curly bits. There are strange shadows across each shape, as if there are layers and layers of something over the top. “You?”

You raise your eyebrows. You thought it was common knowledge. “Well, I’ve never seen one before outside of training.”

Mouse starts. “Never seen—”

“Granny is lucky,” Ring says. He pats her on the shoulder like Hawk had. It’s nowhere near as comforting. “You’re just unlucky enough to have canceled that out.”

You pull out your glasses. You’re supposed to get the mask with your prescription over the eyes to prevent anyone from recognizing your personal eyewear. You think the prescription masks are itchy, however, so you regularly sneak them in your cardigan pocket. The scanner remains incomprehensible to you, even with them on. “It doesn’t look anything like it does in training.” You frown as the curls begin to look like ribbon the longer you stare at them. “Are you sure this is a bomb?”

“The defense system triggered on it,” Hawk says.

You wave your hand. These new AI systems are wrong all the time. You recently saw a news article about how the facial recognition software at the Hero Academy failed to pick out a top journalist, allowing him complete access to the campus. “They wouldn’t have us here sorting if the system were infallible.”

A strange look crosses Hawk’s face. “That’s one perspective.”

“It’s a state-of-the-art system,” Ring tells Mouse in a low tone. You imagine he thinks you can’t hear him or the faint laughter in his voice. “It’s not wrong.”

That grates. You may be new to the sorting room, but you aren’t wrong to question the systems. You point. “It could be cookies. See these disks here? Sugar cookies, I used to make a recipe just as thick. They’ve been very popular to send to Strongwoman lately; she must like them. And that’s the ribbon tying the box closed.”

“No,” Ring says. “No, it’s not cookies, Granny.”

Your spine stiffens. “I think it is.”

“Granny,” Hawk says tentatively. “Do you…often think things like these are cookies?”

“People do send the heroes a lot of baked goods,” you say. “It’s the best way to show gratitude!”

Mouse’s jaw drops. In a normal voice, she says, “You’ve been sending bombs onto heroes thinking they’re cookies?”

“Because they are,” you say.

“Oh my god,” Ring says. “Granny has seen a bomb, she just hasn’t recognized one before. Oh my god.”

You’re too old to stamp your feet. Instead, you narrow your eyes at Ring like you did when your eldest drew on the walls. “I have not. I open each package—”

“You open them?!”

“Protocol—"

“-and they’re always just cookies,” you say. You snag the package before any of them can move. “I’ll prove it to you!”

There’s a bit of a scuffle. Mouse doesn’t move out of the way of Ring’s lunge in time, and they both topple onto the table. Hawk tries to yank the package away from you, shouting something or other about better to be cautious or Granny stop! But you’re stronger than they think. They may call you Granny, but you’re only 63! Do they think you need a cane to walk?

You rip open the tape. Mouse screams. Ring whimpers. Hawk closes her eyes tight. You shake out the contents of the box.

A pink pastry plops out of the package and onto the scanning table. The three of them are frozen, eyes darting over the pretty ribbon curled into a bow holding it closed. With an indignant huff, you use a letter opener to cut the ribbon and flip back the lid.

Sugar cookies in six sloppy rows and stacked four deep sit inside.

“See?” you say triumphantly. “Sugar cookies!”

Hawk’s brow is furrowed. “That’s not—that can’t be—”

The bomb doors slide down and the WARNING light switches off. The system beeps three times and then falls silent. The quiet that fills the room sounds like victory.

“…so I can go home now?” Mouse asks.

“Yes,” you say smugly. You know it’s bad manners, but all the excitement has dropped your blood sugar. You snag a cookie and bite into it. “We all can.”

Ring and Hawk stay behind, staring from the box to each other and back again as you go home.

----.

You have two days off, and then Travis is off the day you come back so it takes three days for someone to tell you it was a bomb in that box.

That someone is Foresight, the leader of Hero Force.

He looks out of place in the sorting room, smiling and standing by the door as you shuffle from cart to cart to collect your jobs for the day. Travis is there with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed on Foresight.

“We call your class of power S-class,” Foresight explains. “The ability to change reality with a thought – it’s only been observed in a handful of super-powered individuals.”

“I don’t care what power she has,” Travis says. “You aren’t poaching Granny.”

“I would also like to stay in the mail room,” you say.

Foresight opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. He looks bemused as he says, “Alright then. We do need to quantify your power. Does Thursday work for you?”

“Yes,” Travis answers for you. “We’ll be there.”

Your ears perk up. Maybe it will be a long meeting. Maybe you’ll have a chance to sit down. “Thursday it is then. I’ll bring some snacks for everyone.”

----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to support me and see stories like this one before anyone else, please consider checking out my Patreon(X)!

Next week's story is already posted and is a follow up to this story (X) about Nadezh and Gannon

[souljahwwitch]

ND’ WE SIPPINNN ND’ WE RIDINNN’!

; hc’s about getting high with best friend! thanos ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹

(no squid game in these hc’s)

song to listen to: h20 by chris travis <3

���₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ smoking with thanos means laying on his bed, in his silly room with bunch of posters and random plushies, you just lay there prettily, looking at him as he rolls the blunt—afterall he wouldn’t want his angel (totally platonically..) to do the work, right?

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ smoking with thanos means him making sure you’re alright—yeah he’s an asshole, but he doesn’t want you fainting or something

“hey, hey—easy with that shit, dumbass, it’s strong.” he’d say and you’d just giggle “relax! nothing’s going to happen, promise.”

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ smoking with thanos means watching eachother as both of your eyes get low and glassy, he can’t help stare at you when you get even more beautiful when you smoke (if that’s even possible), and he especially can’t help but stare when you get all giggly and bashful—to him, it’s the most adorable shit—but platonically, right…?

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ smoking with thanos means getting extra clingy, you can’t help it, you’re feeling all tingly and slow—and he lays there with you on his lap, what can a girl do?

as you sit on his lap, while he’s laying, he softly brushes his thumb on your bottom lips “open your mouth” he says, and you look at him—all confused “just do it dumbass”

and you do, because why would you say no to your best friend, right? he gets closer, his mouth dangerously close as he passes the smoke from his lips to yours “breathe in…there you go, pretty girl”

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ smoking with thanos means—him teasing you for being so shy, when he knows what he does to you, he’s so mean!!! but you like it..

“what, can’t handle your best friend getting a little closer than usual, hm?” he’d say—all cocky and full of himself, even though you have the same effect on him just sitting on his lap, though he’d rather die than admit

“can’t handle when you do it like that.. :(“ you’d pout and that just makes him more cocky

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ getting high with thanos means listening to cloud rap, you two can’t help it—especially when h20 by chris travis is on—and what can he do when you look at him all pretty with red rimmed eyes through your long lashes—

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹ getting high with thanos means him losing it, finally cupping your face and kissing you, what can the boy do?!?! >:( especially when you whine so prettily into the kiss

[bravevolunteer]

hello yj enjoyer mutuals ….i’m stealing the poll idea from ant-

[leaghi]

BLINDED ☆⋅⋆ ─ l.hs

. . . ☆⋅⋆ ─ ON DATE NIGHT your boyfriend can't handle how pretty you are 𐙚 엔하이픈이희승 x fea!reader

(portfolio) WC: 1220 ⎯⎯ (❀) fluff, est. relationship, slightly suggestive at the end, nicknames, kissing (❀) ꒰ 恋する꒱ (❀) you're just so pretty i can't keep my hands to myself (❀)

SONGS: can't get you - jaehyun , love galore - sza/travis scott , our night is more beautiful than your day - njz

leighi : hi everyone! this is my first posted fic, so please enjoy and support ♡ i will be posting a lot more shortly :) have a lovely read

romantic!heeseung who's obsessed with you welcomes himself into the apartment, the clattering of his things ringing from the main entrance through the rest of the living space.

“baby, i'm here! you ready, girl?” heeseung called out, leaning against the wall with one hand as he kicked his shoes off. his wide bambi eyes searched for you, quickly stepping forward as soon as he could. all he wanted to do was see you.

hearing the back-to-back nicknames made your heart flutter. even after exactly four years of dating, he never failed to make you giddy. young and in love? yes, you were.

“yeah, i’m almost ready!” you called back, leaning toward your bathroom mirror to put the finishing touches on your outfit. you’d spent two weeks planning how you’d look, down to every freckle you carefully dotted across your cheeks and nose. your anniversaries with heeseung were always so special, and you wanted to look perfect for him.

“where are you?” heeseung laughed after searching for half a minute, waddling into your room.

you shoved the back to your earring on quickly, checking both ears to see how the arrangement you made finally looked together. it really was perfect.

“sorry, sorry. i was putting my earrings on,” you replied, an amused grin spreading across your face. you stepped out of the bathroom and walked over to your bed, grabbing your small handbag. digging through your nightstand drawer, you almost didn’t notice heeseung standing behind you. why?

he was frozen.

his heart pounded at the sight of you.

even without facing him fully, you had him completely mesmerized.

you wore a dusty light blue dress, the fabric hanging down in soft strips like jellyfish tentacles that floated with every movement you made. sparkles from the waist up shimmered under the golden light from your window.

you looked ethereal, and heeseung had no other words to describe it.

“y/n…” his voice was barely a whisper.

“hm?” you hummed, quickly closing the drawer, wallet in hand. you turned to face him, and heeseung just about had a heart attack.

it was the way your hair flipped over your shoulder, your bangs framing your face perfectly. the white bow tied at the back of your half-up ponytail, the soft curls at the ends of your hair bouncing with each movement. your eyes—big and mesmerizing. the gloss coating your lips, making them too pretty to kiss and ruin. except, that was all he wanted to do.

“you look—” heeseung’s voice caught, his hand quickly coming up over his mouth.

well, shit. he looked just as good.

his hair was styled, a middle part with the slight mullet in the back resting against his neck. his eyes were soft but drawing, a touch of makeup making them even more striking. the chapstick you gifted him—just a hint of red tint—pulled everything together. he decided to pamper himself, and wow, did it work well.

your eyebrows lifted as he stayed quiet, his gaze raking over you. you started giggling after a moment, and that’s what got him. your pretty teeth, the way your eyes lit up.

heeseung let out a breath, finally dropping his hand to his side. he walked up to you slowly, his hands reaching to settle at your waist protectively just like always.

“you’re staring,” you teased as your hands rested on his biceps, giving them a loving squeeze.

“damn right i am,” he muttered proudly, turning you from side to side to take you in from every angle. you laughed, letting him admire you, before swatting his chest lightly. heeseung chuckled, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“well?” you wanted to hear him say it, even if his reaction had already told you everything.

“you are the prettiest girl in the whole world,” he said slowly, pulling you close.

“thank you,” you murmured, voice small. tilting your head slightly, you let out a little hum, making his smile widen. heeseung expected you to brush it off like you usually did, but your shyness told him you still didn’t fully believe him.

“no, seriously,” he said firmly, his expression shifting into something deeper, something in love. “you are so beautiful, i’m being blinded.”

“‘blinded,’ hee?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” he replied confidently with a scoff, dreamy-eyed. he pulled you in by your waist again and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck. and when he leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours, you knew he was ruining your glossy, too-pretty-to-kiss lips.

you pulled back with a big smile, your cheeks pink and round. he reached up and poked your dimple, earning a laugh from both of you.

“wow, you really are gorgeous,” he repeated suddenly, breathless. his gaze traced over every inch of your face, the corners of his lips curling up more and more with each second. the love in his eyes made your heart thump wildly in your chest. he groaned softly and leaned back for a moment, his eyebrows lifting with an almost overwhelmed expression. “god, i love you, baby.”

he pulled you in for another kiss, and you just laughed, already knowing what was coming.

“i love you too, hee,” you murmured, welcoming his kiss.

then his arms tightened around your waist, and he began to press soft kisses along your jaw, under your ear, and down your neck. he mumbled sweet, endless things about how pretty you were and how much he loved you.

but suddenly, he paused, pulling back to meet your eyes. there was something playful in his expression as he bit his lip, eyebrows quirking up.

“what…?” you asked, your voice pitching higher, suspicion in your tone. you squinted at him as he turned you gently, his hands moving to the back of your dress.

“will i be able to take this off you tonight?” he asked, and you scoffed in surprise.

“heeseung!” you tried to turn to face him, but he held you in place, fingers trailing teasingly along the top hem.

“what?” he whined, pretending to be innocent. “i just don’t wanna ruin your pretty dress trying to get to your even prettier body.”

he finally let you turn, eyes glimmering with mischief as he searched your face for a reaction. you sent him a glare, but he only grinned wider, giggling at your flustered expression.

you glared harder. “try to touch the zipper and you’ll lose a finger.”

he gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “so violent! but also… kinda hot?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smile as he pulled you closer again, his hands wandering a little too innocently.

“you’re seriously not gonna let this go, are you?” you asked with an annoyed expression, half amused, half exasperated.

“not until i see what’s under that dress,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek.

you put your hand on his chest, trying to push him away lightly. “we have a dinner reservation to get to, just a reminder.” you both knew that if he started with you, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“oh, we’ll get to the reservation,” he murmured, his lips already finding yours again, his hands anything but innocent.

and just like that, he kissed you again—slow at first, just enough to have you both melting into each other’s hold while his fingers crept higher.

[burreauxsss]

stunts

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest)

synopsis: y/n and joe get closer than ever on insta due to a bye week and travis and madison fallout. badly

notes: i dont think this surprises anyone. opposites sometimes dont attract! but at the end of the day, this is a short filler for the next chapter.

warning: this is a au/ alternative universe. dont read if you dont mess with au's??? not proofread.

yn.handle posted a story

caption: unbothered 🏃🏽‍♀️

duexmoi

❤️ 385,918 💬 49,107

Liked by: tmz and others

duexmoi: ladies what do we think?

username_1: pr stunt??

username_2: she just wanted attention because y/n was getting it for breaking up with him.

username_3: if this is true i swear.

username_4: hes washed anyways..

*load more comments*

yn.handle

❤️ 385,918 💬 49,107

Liked by: skims joeyb_9 yourbsf and others

yn.handle: day and night 🌙

username_5: shes so prettyy

joeyb_9: finest woman i know. yn.handle: thank you ml 🫶🏾

yourbsf: i thought this was the one outfit you weren't going out in? yn.handle: just had to tease someone.

username_6: shes only posting this because of the rumors. username_7: dawg she doesnt give a fuck.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

caption: 🌊

yn.handle posted a story

caption: bye week!

joeyb_9

❤️ 808,240 💬 83,688

Liked by: alo bengals yn.handle lahjay_10 and others

joeyb_9: halfway.

username_8: shooting my shot yn.handle: your a tad too late..

username_9: go rest joe 🧐

yn.handle: mind you, im on vacation with you right now.. joeyb_9: its bye week i know. 🙃

username_10: we play the eagles after this, are we screwed?

username_11: yes we're screwed.

*load more comments*

madisonreaves

❤️ 231,875 💬 1,934

Liked by: rhode vogue and others

madisonreaves: moving on....

username_12: travis never wanted you lmfaoo

username_13: another pr stunt.. would not surprise me if you try to get with burrow or one of his teammates next.

username_14: beautiful!

username_15: howd travis turn out hm?

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: skims drop 🔜?

yn.handle and skims

❤️ 1.2m 💬 25,503

Liked by: vogue joeyb_9 yourbsf and others

skims: the queen of the queen city.

username_16: thats the most pettiest caption..

username_17: dont forget queen of the jungle

username_18: shouldve dressed in orange.

joeyb_9: thats my girl 🫢

username_19: we support a supportive bf..

username_20: only here because of my qb reposting this on his story.

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 1m 💬 49,982

Liked by: joeyb_9 lahjay_10 yn.handle and others

bengals: whiteout the jungle.

username_21: the eagles will put bta.

username_22: we got this.. totally

username_23: tough game. defense better be focused.

*load more comments*

notes: hope yall enjoyed. also this posted lmfaoo

[mediumgayitalian]

When Cecil was little, peppermint meant coming in from the cold.

It meant warmth, it meant hot chocolate, it meant his mother was home early. He liked peppermint. He liked it especially in the candy canes he would lift around Christmas, slipped into his coatsleeves at a busy department store, devoured on the bus home as his mother snorted at him.

"I'm pretty sure they arrest thieving seven-year-olds here, you know. We don't have money for bail. You're staying there."

Peppermint was fine. He didn't think of it often.

On a Tuesday in July, when he was nine -- he remembers because Tuesday was when the camp store used to restock -- he hopped up the rickety steps of the brightest cabin in camp, picked up the three packages of candy that had fallen out of his bulging pockets, and knocked on the door.

"Will?" he called, peering through the darkened screen. "Are you here? You weren't at our spot."

Cecil does not actually remember how long it took for someone to come to the door. He remembers it took some time, because taking any time at all was unusually. He didn't usually have to knock. Even now, it is odd for the Apollo cabin door to be shut, especially in the daylight hours.

Eventually, there were footsteps. A tall, barefoot woman stepped out, swinging the creaky door closed gently behind her. A wave a peppermint followed her out, making Cecil's eyes water.

"Cecil," she said, smiling warmly. "Hey, kiddo."

Cecil rocked on his heels. "Hey, Cass." He glanced around her. "Where's Will."

"Oh. Um..." Cass turned back to face the door, biting her lip. In her silence, Cecil heard faint crying. "Come sit with me a second, okay?"

The oldest Apollo daughter sat delicately on the top porch step, tucking her long hair out from under her thighs. She patted the spot next to her, and after a moment -- staring at the door, straining to hear -- Cecil sat.

"Will," she said, after a moment, "is...sick."

Cecil frowned. "I thought you guys didn't get sick."

"We don't. Kind of."

Cecil waited. Cass didn't notice, looking out onto the common. He worried at her lower lip, fingers wrapping around her hair.

"He's not that kind of sick."

"What kind of sick?"

"You ever had a headache?"

"Yeah."

Cass traced a line in the woodgrain beneath them. "It's like that. A little."

"Well, can't you heal it? We're supposed to go in the woods today. Luke said he'll teach us how to trap a myrmeke."

"That's...no you're not. Tell him I said you two are absolutely not allowed to do that."

Cecil crossed his fingers. "Uh-huh. Can he come play soon?"

"...No, Cecil. He'll be sick for a while." She turned to face him, resting her chin on her hands. She smiled, slightly, but her dark eyes were round and wet. "Will gets something called migraines. It's like...um, imagine you're in the ampitheatre, doing sword practice. And then suddenly, boom! You're by yourself! And you're surrounded by monsters, but they're invisible. What are you going to do?"

Cecil pondered. That was a new one. Usually he imagined he's being attacked by Connor and Travis who have been cloned a million times and turned evil.

"Uh...start swinging?"

Cass smiled. "Right. Would make a pretty big mess of the ampitheatre, huh?"

"Probably."

"A little chaotic?"

"Duh."

"Hm." A cry came from the cabin again. That time, it was loud enough for both of them to hear it, even through the soundproofed walls. Cecil's stomach turned. "Sometimes, Will's brain thinks there's something wrong with it. But it doesn't know what. So it starts thrashing around, trying to get rid of whatever's hurting him, but it just kind of...makes things worse."

"So...his brain hurts?"

"Yes. It hurts so much that it makes his stomach hurt, and his skin, and even the lights hurt him a little."

The weird feeling in Cecil's stomach got worse. He turned toward the door, waiting, and after a few minutes, there was another cry, small and sad and hurt, like the one time he was walking home from school with his mom and they passed a puppy that had been left all by itself in an alley, barking for its mama. Cecil had cried the whole way home. He turned back to Cass, eyes burning.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Cass reached over and slid a hand over his shoulder, pulling him into her side. He stayed there, for a minute, hiding in her soft t-shirt. "It sucks, kiddo. I wish he could come play."

"When will he be better?"

Cecil pulled away, swiping quickly at his eyes. Cass let him, watching with soft eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, probably. Lee made him a salve with peppermint oil, and sometimes that helps. If he can sleep it off he might even be better by dinner." Cass glanced back at the screen. "I doubt it, though. This one is a bad one. You come by tomorrow morning though, okay? Bright and early. I'll tell Luke we need your help, he'll let you off your chores."

Cecil brightened. "Really? Can you tell him to give them to Connor instead?"

Cass snorted. "Don't push it, kid."

"Okay, okay." Cecil stood at her gentle push, climbing down the stairs and lingering on the crunchy grass. He fiddled under her raised eyebrows, reaching into his pockets. "Um, can you give him these? For when his stomach stops hurting."

He tossed up a pink package. Cass caught it, turning it over to read the label. She smiled.

"You steal these?"

"Yes."

"Nice." She tucked the Twizzlers in her pocket, grinning. "I won't tell, but Michael is still mad that you stole his comic books last week, si you better get lost before he sees 'cause he'll snitch. Bye, Cecil."

Cecil remembered the rage in Michael's eye and stepped quickly backwards.

"Bye, Cass."

She turned back up the stairs. The smell of peppermint was stronger.

It smelled a little less warm, this time.

-- -- --

next