#hopefully this is fine. i admit i got a bit rusted on my break

[alluringempress-blog]

♬♫; traviling-mage ;♫♬

Dark haired seductress roamed market district, her heels clicking as she go. Wei beauty was bored and she was desire something to liven up her dull afternoon..

 "Oh you must be a new recruit.” her lips pouted.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Collision Course

Summary: You and Spencer were just bound to collide. Only fate could plan a first meeting that unique.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: fluff, minor car crash (no serious injuries), swearing, sexual harassment (specifically cat-calling from a stranger), mentions of eating a lot of food, implied allusion to sex (not specifically stated)

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my one-shot entry for @ellesgreenaway ‘s 1k follower celebration! congratulations! <3 i’ve had this fic in my drive for a while but i never got around to finishing it until now

Masterlist

The metro was down for scheduled repairs today. JJ offered to bring Spencer in but he politely declined. He figured he should drive his car at least every once and a while so it doesn’t just collect rust in his parking spot.

Leaving his apartment 15 minutes earlier than he normally would to account for his rather slow driving, Spencer cautiously reversed out of his space.

He sighed in relief that he had not hit the neighboring cars. Spencer began to pull out of the parking garage. Unfortunately, he was so relieved from his little victory that he forgot to check both ways when he drove out of the parking garage.

Spencer slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He hit a young woman jogging and knocked her to the ground. Luckily, his average speed was that of a snail so he hoped her injuries were not too bad.

Spencer put the car in park and got out, “Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay, miss?”

“I think so,” you were on the ground, assessing your body for any damage.

“Can you stand?” Spencer extended his hand to help you up.

You carefully stood, wincing a little when you put pressure on your left ankle.

“Is there anyone I can call? Do you want me to drive you to the ER?” Spencer frantically asked.

Your eyes widened, “No!” you stated a little too loudly, “Um I mean no thank you. I should finish my run anyways. I have a 5k for Alzheimer’s research coming up and I need to run or else I don’t raise any money,” you politely waved and took off again, much slower this time.

Spencer cringed as he watched you limp slightly every time you stepped on your left ankle, knowing it was his fault you were in pain. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Hey JJ, have you left yet? I need a ride, I’ll explain in the car.”

-

“Pretty Boy, how was your drive in?” Derek asked as soon as Spencer stepped off the elevator with JJ.

“I got about 20 feet and then hit someone with my car and had to call JJ so not great,” he admitted.

“Boy Wonder, you did WHAT? Are they okay?” Penelope gasped.

“She insisted she was fine but then she was limping away. I offered her a ride but she didn’t seem too keen on getting in a car with me,” Spencer explained.

“I wonder why,” Emily chuckled.

-

So there Spencer was. In the park in his only pair of short athletic shorts and a hoodie.

He had asked Penelope to sign him up for the 5k as a way to sort of make it up to the woman he hit. Plus, obviously it was for a good cause that was near and dear to his heart because of his mother.

Spencer had to take a lot of water breaks, periodically stopping to walk for a bit.

In the distance, he saw you on a bench and he suddenly felt the energy again to continue running to you. As he approached, he saw you tightening an ankle brace around your left foot and to make matters worse, you had a wrist brace as well.

Spencer considered just leaving you alone but he felt the need to apologize.

“H-Hello,” he awkwardly sputtered.

“Oh, hi,” you replied.

“I am so so sorry. Please let me pay your medical bills and any other expenses that I caused,” Spencer apologized.

“Unless you meant to hit me then it’s fine,” you stood from the bench.

“I definitely didn’t and I wasn’t on my phone or anything like that. I just barely ever drive but the metro was down today,” Spencer explained.

“You don’t have to pay my medical bills. I’m friends with a nurse so she did this for free. However, I would allow you to sponsor me for the 5k,” you answered.

“Absolutely,” Spencer nodded, “And funny story, you inspired me to register as well. I got everyone in my office to sponsor me.”

“That’s so great! The money is certainly going to a good cause.”

Spencer saw you smile for the first time since he met you.

“I’ve never been much of an athlete though. I barely passed my fitness test for work,” Spencer admitted.

“What kind of job has a fitness test?” you asked.

“I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Spencer stated.

“Oh shit, you’re a federal agent? Maybe I will sue you and make bank,” you grinned.

Spencer’s face reddened.

“It was just a joke. You can laugh, then that means the incident is in the past and no hard feelings,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer, if you ever need a running buddy, I’m more than happy to come along seeing as we both are training for the same thing. But I do have to warn you, this brace is kind of a bitch so I’m a little slower than normal.”

“I can assure you that you will probably still be faster than me with the brace on so maybe it was a good thing for me that I hit you with my car so you won’t be miles ahead,” Spencer grinned.

You laughed wholeheartedly, “See, Spencer! I’m laughing about it so no hard feelings, all is forgiven.”

“I’m just finishing up for the day but I was planning on being here again on Wednesday at the same time if you want to meet at this bench,” you offered.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Spencer nodded.

“See you around, Spencer. Hopefully not in your car though,” you winked and waved.

-

“Oh god, you’ve fallen in love with the chick you almost killed,” Derek groaned.

“Not love...well, yet anyways. She’s so pretty and easy to talk to and isn’t mean to me after everything that has happened and her laugh is like honey,” Spencer smiled softly, recalling the sound in his mind.

“Okay, lover boy,” Penelope giggled, “Did you get her number?”

“No but we’re meeting for a run tomorrow. We actually met at the park when I was training,” Spencer said.

“So she’s seen you in those short shorts and agreed to another meeting? Maybe you do have a chance, kid, cause you really put it all out there,” Derek smirked.

“Speaking of, I actually need to get more of them,” Spencer sipped his coffee.

“Just go all the way and get spandex. Leave nothing to the imagination,” Derek chuckled as Spencer rolled his eyes.

-

“Jesus, I’m going to have to hit your right leg this time if I’m going to have any chance of keeping up with you,” Spencer huffed as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.

“Well good news is that was four miles so you definitely will be able to run a 5k because it’s only 3.1 miles,” you encouraged him.

“Technically, it’s 3.10686 miles but I see your point,” Spencer heaved.

“I know a really good smoothie place nearby. Come on, it’s on me,” you grabbed his hand.

Luckily, Spencer’s face was already red from exercising so you weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks.

“No, it’s definitely on me. I know you said we’re fine but I am forever going to be indebted to you because of the incident.”

“Spencer, really just forget about it,” you assured him.

“I can’t, I have an eidetic memory,” he grinned.

“Ah, I see. Fine, you buy me one smoothie but then we’re even,” you conceded.

You were walking down the street to the cafe when you heard a whistle come from one of the cars driving by.

“Damn, your ass is looking sexy in those leggings,” a man hollered from his passing truck.

You flipped him off and tried to pull your shirt down as much as possible, crossing your arms tightly around your front.

Spencer unzipped his hoodie and extended it towards you, “Sorry, it’s a little sweaty but if you want to wear it, you can.”

You smiled softly and accepted the sweatshirt, feeling more comfortable now.

“I’ve got his license plate number memorized and I intend to file a police report. Unfortunately, reports like these usually don’t go very far but I’ll keep pushing it through. I’ll also call the company that was printed on the side of the truck and ask to speak to his supervisor,” Spencer spoke softly after a few minutes.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just doing what’s right. He had no right to make comments about your body,” Spencer said, wrapping a gentle arm around your upper waist.

-

“Welcome to Y/N’s carbo-loading extravaganza!” you opened the door of your apartment to let Spencer in.

“I brought dessert as requested,” Spencer held up a chocolate cake.

“I like how you think, Spencer. Dinner’s all ready,” you smiled.

“Spaghetti, meatballs, and crispy buttery garlic bread,” you pulled the bread out of the oven.

“Looks absolutely delicious,” he complimented.

“Eating carbohydrates before a race boosts the glycogen storage in your muscles allowing you to work out longer,” Spencer informed you.

“Interesting, I never knew the science behind it but I’m never going to complain about eating tons of pasta and bread,” you twirled some pasta on to your fork.

Halfway through the meal, Spencer accidentally got a sauce stain on his pale pink shirt.

“Oh no,” you said as he tried to dab it away.

“That needs to soak right away. I don’t want any casualties at the carbo-loading extravaganza. Give it to me to scrub and I’ll get you another shirt.”

Spencer unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. You gulped at the sight of him shirtless, grabbing the shirt and heading to your bathroom sink to scrub it with laundry detergent.

“You can just grab any t-shirt from my room that you think will fit,” you called out to him.

Spencer settled on a light gray shirt with a golden retriever on the front.

“Okay, the stain is out! It’s just soaking now-“ you immediately stopped talking as soon as you saw the shirt Spencer was wearing.

He noticed your eyes were beginning to glisten with tears, “I’m so sorry. I can pick a different shirt,” Spencer was already beginning to pull it over the top of his head.

“No it’s fine, Spencer. That’s just my grandma’s t-shirt. I forgot I even had it.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he spoke guiltily.

“You didn’t know, besides it looks good on you anyways,” you smiled, “My grandma is the whole reason I’m running the 5k.”

“My mom has Alzheimer’s too so I understand that it’s extremely hard to watch a loved one go through that,” Spencer pulled you in for a hug.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

After Spencer hadn’t heard any sniffles in a while, he whispered, “Do you have any tea I can make you?”

You nodded and Spencer guided you to the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before turning the kettle on.

-

Spencer answered the cheerful knocking at his front door early in the morning.

“Race day! Are you ready?” you exclaimed.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Spencer smiled.

“I promise we are sticking together the whole time because it doesn’t matter how long it takes us as long as we finish,” you held up your pinky.

“Together,” Spencer affirmed, locking his pinky with yours.

The starting line in the park was only a short distance away from Spencer’s apartment so you and Spencer decided to walk there as a little warm-up.

You and Spencer were doing quad stretches when you saw his eyes wander to something behind you and then widen. His face immediately reddening.

“What?” you asked, turning around to see a group of people with a sign that read ‘Go Spencer and his girlfriend!’

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect them to do that,” Spencer stammered.

The poor boy was so flustered so you decided to take it easy on him.

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged with a slight smile.

“You don’t?” Spencer clarified, “I’m not very good with words or flirting in general but I would like to see you again after the race is over. Maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“Yes but my only condition is...I’m driving,” you smirked.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Spencer grinned.

An air horn sounded, signaling the start of the race.

“I think you’re going to have to catch me first, Dr. Reid,” you giggled as you sprinted ahead.

-

“It’s in sight, Spencer! We can do this!” you pointed to the finish line in the distance.

“Y/N, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t,” Spencer heaved.

“If you finish this race, I will…” you cupped your hand to his ear and whispered something.

Spencer immediately perked up and started running again.

“Hey, wait up!” you laughed.

You and Spencer crossed the finish line at the same time. Spencer’s legs immediately gave out which caused you to fall too, collapsing on top of him.

“I know I’m really sweaty and gross right now but can I please kiss you?” Spencer whispered.

Your lips were pressed on his as soon as he finished his sentence. You honestly didn’t know how long you had been kissing for but you didn’t look up until you heard one of the race officials shout, “Hey lovebirds! That’s very sweet but other people are trying to cross the finish line.”

“Sorry!” you and Spencer apologized, scrambling to your feet.

“Not really,” Spencer whispered to you and you jabbed him in the side with your elbow playfully, stifling a laugh.

what slightly inspired this fic is one time @samuel-de-champagne-problems commented on one of my posts “i could never stay mad at spencer” and then i thought to myself “same. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if he hit me with his car” and now here we are... 🚙

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly

[celestialtitania]

it's always you (part 6)

Written for Day 12: Cuddles of Marichat May, Can also read on AO3.

@marichatmay

Chat rolled out of the way as Gigantitan nearly stepped on him. He winced as he slammed into a falling car, only managing to extend his baton in time to keep the car from completely crushing him.

"Chat!" Ladybug called, her voice sounding frightened.

"I'm okay!" He called back, gingerly picking himself up. He went to retrieve his baton and felt as though someone was stabbing him in the shoulder, forcing him to drop to his knees with a guttural cry.

"Chat!" Ladybug was by his side in an instant, rapidly spinning her yoyo to keep them safe from any projectiles thrown their way. "Are you okay?"

"I think I broke my arm," he gritted his teeth. "I'll be okay, tell me what you need, LB."

She tossed him an incredulous stare. "I need you to stay safe." She bit her lip, looking slightly unsure. "Did you break the arm with the Cataclysm?"

"No, thankfully it was just the other arm."

She gave a quick glance around. "Okay, on my signal cataclysm the Eiffel Tower." He nodded, cradling his broken arm, he jumped to the foot of the Eiffel Tower, as Ladybug called her Lucky Charm.

Chat caught her eye just as Ladybug dove between Gigantitan's legs holding what appeared to be a cape. Frowning in confusion but having complete trust in every one of Ladybug's crazy plans, he tapped the Eiffel Tower with the swirling black energy from his Cataclysm.

The tower turned to rust and began to creak as it began its steady descent downwards. Meanwhile, Ladybug had turned the cape into streamers to distract Gigantitan. He had just raised his arms to grab the streamers, when the Eiffel Tower crashed down on him, effectively trapping him.

With Gigantitan unable to move and his hands trapped, Ladybug was easily able to grab his bracelet. She broke the akumatized object and immediately called for her Miraculous Ladybug afterwards, catching Baby August before he got hurt.

Chat felt the cloud of red ladybugs circle his arm and let out a sigh of relief as the pain vanished. He gave his shoulder an experimental roll, grinning when it moved without causing him any pain.

"Kitty!" Ladybug crashed into him, giving him a giant hug. Despite himself, Chat's heart still lurched forward causing him to struggle to hug her back. Not that it mattered, with her pulling away just as quickly.

She gently laid a hand on his arm with her thumb idly stroking his arm making knots twist in his stomach. "It's okay now, thank goodness," she cried in relief.

"Y-yeah, the Cure is great," Chat grinned, taking a step backwards as he spoke. He'd hoped to do it casually but considering the hurt look that had appeared on Ladybug's face, he had failed to do so.

The worst part was that he didn't want to hurt her. But being so close to her wasn't good for his heart and besides, he'd promised himself that he would do everything to keep Marinette from getting hurt.

He pointed at her earrings instead. "Your time's about to run out, Bug." She blinked, just as the loud beep was heard.

"You're right. I'm glad you're okay now, Kitty," she smiled at him before swinging away. He watched until her form was just a dot on the horizon before leaping away to find his own hiding place.

Ducking into an empty alley, he released his transformation.

"Finally!" Plagg cried as he emerged, already looking for some Camembert. Adrien let Plagg eat for a few moments before speaking up.

"Hey, Plagg. I know it's been a long day, but do you mind letting me transform so I can go to Marinette's for a bit?"

Plagg made a face at him. "You've been spending a lot of time transformed, to be with your girlfriend."

"I'll get you three wheels of Camembert and one other type of cheese," Adrien offered.

Plagg narrowed his eyes at Adrien. "Oh, fine, but it better be quality cheese!" he threatened. Adrien grinned, calling for his transformation.

Chat Noir leaped over the rooftops, reaching Marinette's balcony in record time. He really hoped she was there as he dropped into her room.

Marinette swiveled around from working on her sewing machine, eyes widening as she saw Chat there.

"Hey!" She greeted him, hurrying towards him. Just the sight of her was enough to make his weariness disappear. She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, making him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

The best part of being with Marinette was how loved she made him feel. He adored her. "Are you okay?" she fretted, looking him over for injuries. He tilted his head questioningly and she huffed at him. "I know you came here straight from the akuma attack, Chat."

He glanced at her monitor to see the news playing. "I'm fine, Princess. The Cure fixed me up, right as rain, like always."

"I know it does, but I still hate it when you get hurt," Marinette hugged him again.

"Hey, I know you're probably busy with a new project but can we just watch a movie together or something?" Chat asked hopefully, his heart hammering in his chest.

He would understand if Marinette rejected him for her work. It would hurt but he knew better than to get his hopes up.

Marinette squinted at him. "As long as we get to cuddle the whole time. I don't think I can handle letting you go just yet."

Her words caused a lump to form in his throat as he happily smiled at her. Chat's heart felt lighter, the tension draining from his shoulders.

He dragged her over to her chaise, snuggling into her side. "I don't need a movie, I'd rather just hug you too," he admitted. Marinette smiled at him, wrapping herself around him.

In each other's embrace, they felt safe and cared for. Letting his eyes slide shut, Chat could only think about how lucky he was for having Marinette's love.

[limenysnocket]

I Despise The Way You Make Me Love You

Summary: If you piss off your friends and they don't forgive you, can they really be called your friends? Now, what happens when your closest friend pisses you off and makes you fall deeper in love with him each time he does?

Warnings: Smut, language, lots of sexual innuendos

Word count: 3,483

Request: @honorarytenenbaum

Authors note: You have no idea how excited I am to fufil my first request. If any of y'all have any more, drop it in my asks for anonymity, DM me to give me more details, or whatever the heck. I want your requests. Give them to me.

●■□●■□●■□●■□●■

What's a fantastic morning without the first cup of coffee that you're almost positively sure has been pumped full of laxatives and stress relief pills?

Well, it's not the morning you had planned, and it wasn't the coffee you wanted. You were at work, on your day off. Who dragged you here? Mr. Hollywood hot shot himself, Taika Waititi that absolute jackass. He came to your door at 6 a.m., invited himself inside, crashed into your bedroom, made you and partially helped you get dressed, and threw you into his car, taking you God knows where.

You were on the set of The Mandalorian where they were in the process of filming season two. You had a very cold cup of coffee in your hand and you were about to take a nice sip to hopefully get you sick enough to send you to the hospital for the day, but the cup was snatched away quickly before anything could happen. "I'll drink anything you give me, but I absolutely will not drink that, and I'm putting my ass on the line to make sure you don't drink it either," Taika said, dropping the cup in a nearby trashcan.

"Fuck you, Waititi," you growled, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Love you too, doll," Taika made a kissy face and put his hand on your lower back to guide you deeper into the film set. You swatted his hand away like it was a pesky mosquito.

"Why the hell did you bring me here?" You whisper shouted between your teeth as both of you swerved through staff. "You don't have to work or anything. I just miss you each time you take off on us," Taika pouted. Whatever, missed you my ass. He just wanted you there so you could cover for him every time he took a nap on the job.

"Taika!" You spun towards him, your hands in the air and nails out like an animal, you wanted to maul his God damn, terribly handsome face. "I was going to close my blinds, lock my doors, eat frozen pizzas, binge Superstore and wear sweatpants and a comfortable bra, God damn it! It's my fucking day off, can you take a break for, I don't know, one fucking minute!?" You looked spastic and quite angry. Even a few people stopped and stared for a few seconds. Taika wasn't phased, however. All he gave you was a shrug. "Sounds like a fun afternoon, you should invite me sometime."

Both of you were quiet, and you felt your skin bubbling. You flipped your shit. "I'm going home, alright! I'm calling myself an uber, and you better fucking not call me or come break down my door again, Waititi! I'm not doing this again!" You huffed, twirled around and went straight for the exit. This time, it managed to get the desperate Kiwi's attention.

"(Y/N), now hang on a minute, I can take you out to lunch if you stay!" He called out desperately. "Frozen Italian food sounds so much better, thank you," you snorted and shook your head. You could hear his heavy footsteps behind you, trying to catch up to you.

You couldn't bear to stand another minute with that man, so you pushed out of the small exit, just barely brushing shoulders with David as you went. As the door closed, you heard him say your name and question what you were doing here, but that stopped mid-sentence whenever he probably saw Taika riding your tail.

You yanked your phone from your pocket and started clicking onto the uber app, but your phone was snatched away as you reached the parking lot. "Give me one chance, (Y/N)! I promise to make it worth your while!" He said, trying to talk his offer up for a lunch date. "What is with you and grabbing my things, Waititi?" You growl, snapping your hand out to grab your phone back, only to have it be yanked away again.

"Call me Taika," He said, that dastardly smile still spread across his features. "I'll call you Taika whenever you've earned my actual respect and you can call me (L/N) until then, too!" You grabbed at your phone again. No dice. This was very unfair. He had quiet a few inches on you. "You heffer! Give me that back now!"

"You seem stressed. How long has it been since you've had sex?" Taika struck you with a question that covered your cheeks with a deep blush. "None of your business! Hand it over, Waititi!"

"Taika--," he corrected you without hesitation, "Tell me how long it's been and I'll give you your phone back."

You took a deep breath and folded your arms, you hated to admit such personal things, especially to the likes of him. "Three months," you let out an exasperated sigh. Taika put his hand to his chest in shock. "Really? A classy gal like you, I'd think, would be having sex at least once or twice a week! That's not even the maximum!"

You scoffed, "Stop talking it up, Waititi, it's never gonna work." You grabbed your phone from him and brushed past him, bumping shoulders a bit aggressively. He rolled his eyes and continued to follow you out further into the parking lot, carefully dodging heavy equipment that rolled by. "(Y/N), wait up! C'mon, please?" He frowned and got in front of you again. You were one click away from getting an uber.

Your jaw shifted from side to side in thought. He pissed you off today multiple times already, but you would kill to spend an afternoon alone with him. You knew, whenever he wasn't under the influence of his multiple companions, he was an extremely nice guy. I mean, he was whenever his friends were around sure. Maybe it was just your need for his undivided attention that drove you crazy over him.

You sighed, "Where the hell would you be taking me when all I'm wearing is jeans and a t-shirt? Don't you have this sort of reputation to uphold?" He was shining brightly now, the grin on his face couldn't be any wider. "Oh, darling, I would trash it all to be with you," he purred, "and, how does pizza sound?"

You cocked a brow, lips pinching together and your shoulders rolling. "Fine." He lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. "Amazing! How about we head back inside, we'll finish up this shoot, and after that, we'll see where the streets of LA take us~," he purred with a cocky wink that made you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, let's just hurry up," you sighed, speeding up your walk walk until you had your hand on the handle and had pulled open the door just by a smidge. To your surprise, the handle was yanked out of your hand as the door slammed shut in front of you. You looked up, a bit ticked off, but your inner self calmed when you saw Taika standing there, directly in front of you, blocking the door completely with his body and his eyes holding a provocative stare within them. "Three months, huh?" His voice was low and deep, just how you imagined it before bed quite a few times. "I can... You know... always take care of that for you~." He leaned down towards you, his face becoming dangerously close to yours.

"T-Taika, this isn't exactly the r-right place for that--," you stuttered then gasped softly as his lips brushed against yours. He was so close, you could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixing with the soft smell of his fabric softener that wafted blissfully from his clothes. You started to lean in too, now, taking a large gulp as you did.

"Waititi, stop doing whatever the hell you're doing out there and move your fat ass away from the door!" You heard the executive producer yell from the other side of the door, before Taika was launched forward by the propelling force of the door behind him. His head jeered off to the side and all that was left in contact between you two was the rough clash of his shoulder hitting yours. He stumbled for a minute while you laughed a little, shaking your head. You slipped in, just before a rack full of heavy equipment got close to the door, and that's where you parted from the kiwi, a massive grin on your face.

●■□●■□●■□●■□●■

Okay, he woke you up and ruined your perfectly planned day, so you were pissed just a little bit. Now, he was keeping you longer than he should have, at work and now you were really pissed. Both of you were the very last ones in the studio and he still hasn't finished up yet. Your stomach growled, your fingers twitched and your anger was bubbling.

You were sitting on one of the sets, a main, small room that split off towards the back. It was dark, greasy, and sewer-like. It had grates everywhere that were decaying with painted on rust and fake laser holes dotted along the fake metal every once in awhile.

You sat on a convenient crate prop that was sturdy enough to withstand three people at the most. You were rubbing your temples, the overwhelming and heady stench of expensive perfume, spray paint and spray tanning solution only fueled your distress. That cocky little bastard! He knew you never wanted to be here in the first place, but here he is, keeping you locked up here by his own hand. You were two moments away from storming out, calling that uber, and forgetting about this whole catastrophe whenever there was the rapping of knuckles against tin. Your head shot up and you glared. It was Taika. You said nothing.

He seemed awkward at first, his head tilting to the side and an apologetic smile on his lips, "Well, on the brighter side, at least we won't have to worry about the lunch rush!" He laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood, but your angry aura seemed to snuff out every attempt like a candle in the wind. "Look, doll, you know I'm sorry about keeping you here! It was never my intention..." He tried to explain, his hand motions really getting to work until they paused all together, right in front of him, palms facing upwards and his fingers lightly curling in, out of stress or carpal tunnel from holding on to a keyboard mouse all day long.

"Then what was your intention, Taika? Huh!?" You shot up from your seat and just stood there, your body nearly shaking with rage. "You wake me up, you drag me out of my house, and you force me to come to work! I thought you were my colleague, not my God damn boss!" You were frustrated. You wanted an answer. His eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed to be focused on a different topic on a new level. For the first time ever, you saw him look at the floor, embarrassed.

"Answer me, Taika!" You shouted, the sound of your voice echoing along the walls. He seemed shaken up whenever he looked up. He was confused, like he hadn't even listened to you the entire time. "What?" He said a little breathily, his eyes desperately searching yours for any tiny morsel that you had the compassion to forgive him.

"What were your intentions with this whole fucking thing?" You repeated through your bared teeth. Things were intense now. Both of you just stared in complete silence while Taika contemplated his, apparently, very complex answer.

"Well?" You flinched your arm muscles up once, in a shrugging motion. His eyes were closed and he took a deep breath. Suddenly, he charged forward at you, in a fast walk, without a word, a serious expression on his face. It made you take a few steps back out of shock, and you were close to pulling out your emergency bottle of pepper spray whenever he grabbed both sides of your face with his rough hands and brought you close to him. "This," he whispered before smashing his lips on yours. Your eyes widened, your hands went to his clothes and started clawing harshly, almost begging for him to stop before you became too attached, but as the kiss went on, it became more passionate and your clawing slowed, your eyes fluttered closed and your hands went up, into his hair. Taika let the pure bliss of your acceptance sink into his memory for a few moments longer before he pulled away, his hands dropping from your head and down to his sides.

He took a few steps back, wiping the drool off of his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. "That," he muttered again, bobbing his head to truly acknowledge what he had done. "My intention was to make that happen."

You were stunned, eyes wide when they flew back open and fluttered wildly. Your hands didn't know what to do with themselves anymore, now that they weren't buried in Taika's soft locks, so they went into yours, gripping on tightly and slightly pulsing the tug. Your lips craved more, your heart thrummed madly in your chest, so hard, you thought that it was beating, like a drum, up against your ribcage.

"Taika," you manage to whisper, catching his attention, you could tell, as he looked up at you again. "Yeah?" He muttered back.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your lips needed to connect with his again, you needed to touch him once more, to feel him in any way. You just knew you wanted him. You wanted him bad. You walked right up to him, curled your fingers back into his hair and brought his lips back down on yours, desperate and needy, unlike the last kiss the two of you shared. He kissed you right back, his hands having enough consciousness to slick right down and grip onto your waist.

It was unexpected, it was needed, your friends bet it was going to happen, it was... it was.... hot.

The kiss went on much longer than the last one, and eventually got more heated as well. His tongue slid across your bottom lip and there was no hesitation to open up for him. It was like opening the pearly gates of heaven, in his eyes. He gave your lip a cheeky little nip with his teeth anyway, making you whine softly, before tangling his tongue up with yours, almost like tying a cherry stem into a knot between the two of you.

He started pushing you back. You stumbled a bit, but you got the hint and started walking backwards. His body eagerly followed yours, not willing to break the kiss unless it was for a brief moment of air. Your back was eventually pushed up against one of the orange tinted walls and that wasn't the only thing being pushed up. Your shirt was carrying a steady pace up your abdomen and getting closer to exposing your chest. You were impatient, so you suddenly broke the kiss, leaving Taika momentarily distraught, and lifted your shirt completely off so you could toss it away like trash. Taika was smirking now and continued to kiss you, this time, more hunger was induced into it.

The next time you two broke contact, it was Taika's doings. You didn't have time to really react before you were no longer facing Taika, but the grated wall, and your breasts were pushed up tightly against it as well. Little words were spoken between you two, and it was easy to tell what position he wanted you in, so you stuck your ass out there a little more. You could practically feel his smirk getting wider. He reached around your waist and found the button to your pants. While one hand focused on getting that down and away, the other worked on getting your bra unclipped. It was easy with his skilled fingers. Once your bra was gone, so we're your pants. They dropped to be around your ankles and you hastily kicked them off, as well with your shoes.

A single one of his digits hooked around the hem of your panties and started bringing them down your thighs. His eyes could practically bore holes into your body with how intensely he stared with the newfound flesh.

Your body tingled with the sound of his belt unbuckling and hitting the floor, even more so when his pants were unzipped and dropped around his ankles, well, after he had rustled his wallet from his back pocket first and picked a condom out of it. You wanted him to completely undress, like you, but you weren't in the mood to complain. If anything, this round was possibly doomed to be a quickie anyway.

His boxers were the last item to hit the floor, then it was all over. His stiff member, once the rubber condom had been swiftly applied, prodded at your soaked walls before making its quick and long past due entrance. It nearly made you scream, but before any of that could happen, Taika had one hand slapped firmly across your mouth and the other one grabbed a fist-full of one's of your boobs.

Here's the thing that Taika had completely forgotten to mention whenever this whole fiasco started. He wasn't completely sure that you both were alone in the studio. With his explanation being whispered hotly into your ear with his sensual kiwi accent, you didn't seem to care. If anything, the higher risk of being caught only made the sexual intensity even more intense. So, you were going to be fucked like that, quietly, dirtily, and somewhat publicly. He had this power of domination over you... and you loved it.

He started thrusting, slow and hard. Each time his hips would connect with your ass, your stomach would lightly slam against the grate in front of you and made it wobble out a sound that could possibly notify anyone around you about where you were. Okay, maybe the two of you were that fed up about being discrete with your actions. You both just knew that you needed this and no one was going to tell you otherwise.

He let out soft grunts and pants of your name, occasionally burying his face into your shoulder whenever he started going faster, so he wouldn't get too loud while he pummeled you mercilessly. You could feel him nipping at your skin, whenever you weren't so focused on the feeling of his stiff cock rubbing along your walls. He bit you, sucked on your neck and shoulders, covering you with his love. Well, his claim of you and your body, at least.

The rocking of his hips started getting more rough, irrational and sporadic. He was close and so were you, but he was determined to hold on until you had released all over him. Your hands held on to the grate for dear life, and it rolled along with your movements, shaking when your body pushed forcefully against it by Taika's will, and it wobbled back whenever you lurched backwards to prepare for the next world rocking thrust. This was so much better than sweatpants and The Office episodes.

It didn't take you long before you jumped over the edge and your vision blurred white. He had done it, he had given you one of the worst/best days of your life and you didn't want it to be over, but everything comes to an end eventually, even Taika himself. His thrusts slowed and he gave three, stout, powerful ruts against your ass before he released and his body pushed against yours. His hand fell from your mouth so he could hear your pants and praises that he had been missing out on the entire time the two of you went at it like mad dogs. He pulled out and almost immediately pulled off the gross condom.

You busied yourself with picking up your clothes and quietly putting them on while Taika disposed of the used rubber and pulled up his pants from around his ankles. Both of your faces were red and the lust still sparkled dimly within his and your eyes.

You both met in the middle of the room, once the two of you were collected and ready to leave like nothing had happened in that room you were standing in.

"So, am I invited to come over and crash your days off any time I like, now?" Taika cocked a brow and broke the comfortable silence with a grin and a chuckle. You laughed with him, leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You know what?" You said, tilting your head and having a cheeky smile write itself all over your lips, "I'd love that... same time, tomorrow?"

[ladyramora]

The Matchmaker 2

Submitted by @lolzwaitwhat

....

Ramora glided past groups of men and women alike, wearing a blue and black dress that showed she was helping with the Valentoine Celebration... 

And a lot of leg, which she did not mind at all.

Nor did she mind the stares of the people who she passed. The dress did look amazing on her. It went well with her skin tone, her hair and she'd found some lovely little accessories that looked great with it. Along with a pair of stockings with little black hearts going up to her mid thigh and then leaving plenty to any wandering eye or vivid imagination.

But as much as she'd love to flirt and hopefully find a Valentoine to spend the rest of the holiday with, she was on a different kind of mission tonight... that could wait until later.

She walked to the back of one of the food stands where Lolz was working, wearing a dress just like hers, only hers was red and black with a pink frilly apron covered in hearts and flour, "How is everything going here?" she asked.

"Fan-bloody-tastic!" Lolz said, clearly stressed as she unknowingly coated her cheek with flour while trying to push a stray strand of pink hair out of her face, "I should've just listened to Lisette and just stuck with the regular sweets, but NO I just HAD to insist on making donuts with all sorts of fillings now didn't I?!" She ranted as she filled a pastry bag with what looked like custard, "I don't know why you didn't just slap your hand over my mouth like you did last year-!"

"Because we both need to work here to give the other Scions a reason to come, remember?" She reminded her.

Lolz froze for a moment, then gave her a sheepish look, "Sorry, it's just been a mad dash to keep everyone fed, I almost forgot the plan..."

Ramora smiled and gently patted her clean cheek, "Don't worry about it, Lolzy, I've seen the lines and I already told Astrid and Lisette that they should get a team to make these next year instead of having you taking most of this on yourself."

"Thank you." She sighed, then handed her a donut carefully wrapped in paper, "Cream filled, just in case you want to give someone a message for later." 

"Aw, Lolzy," Ramora cooed as she took the gift, "How thoughtful! I'll definitely enjoy it, one way or another."

Lolz giggled and then began filling the heart shaped pastries, "So, did you get Tataru and Wedge into the maze?" She asked.

"Not yet. Tataru wanted to look around a bit, so I insisted she take Wedge with her." Ramora reported as she took a bite.

"And she actually did it?" Lolz asked, surprised.

"I told her you had helped Astrid with the snack selection this year and there is a discount for couples, we both know Tataru cannot resist a good deal and you both do love your sweets." Ramora said, then smirked, "Perhaps it's a Lalafell thing?"

Lolx scowled and held up her pastry bag, "One more word, Rammy and I'm covering you in cream."

"Wouldn't be my first time." She purred back.

Lolz continued to glare at her before sighing in defeat and continuing her work, "Fine, I'll admit it, you're probably right about that. My brothers and sister and my whole Mum's side of the family all love sweets too..."

"So if the maze won't work, we'll make covering him in honey plan B." Ramora joked.

"Ha! No," She said seriously, then put on a thoughtful expression, "But maybe I could spill some caramel on him... Which reminds me, I should make some more once I'm done with these..."

"Lolz. Focus." Ramora said sternly, "They should be by here any min-" 

"Ramora! Lolz!" Tataru called, holding a red faced Wedge's hand, "I finally found you two!" she said as she made her way towards them.

"I'm going to guess by the looks on your faces that you both have been enjoying the festival?" Ramora asked.

"It's so much fun!" Wedge blurted, "The booths have interesting games and prizes and the food is fantastic!" He then looked to Lolz, "Ramora said you had a hand in that this year."

"Yes well, I'm hoping that I'm less hands on next year." She said, then carefully wrapped two freshly filled donuts, "Here, on me."

"Oh, we couldn't..." Tataru said, although both hers and Wedge's eyes were locked onto the sweets.

"Please do." Lolz pleaded, "The less sweets that make their way to the front of the booth, the faster they'll have someone cover me for a while to have a break." 

"Well, if you insist!" Wedge said excitedly as the two happily dug in. Lolz reached into a pocket of her apron, only for Ramora to instead pull a few coins from a small pouch she had on her garterbelt and handed them over to her instead.

Lolz looked at the coins, then down where the coins seemed to have come from, then looked Ramora right in the eye, "I'm going to wash my hands again." She said, dropping the money off at the register before going towards a small sink to wash up.

"These are great!" Tataru said, a small bit of cream on her cheek.

Ramora took another bite of her donut and moaned a little, getting both Lalafell's attention, "Sorry." She said after she swallowed, covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers. Tataru seemed to just write it off as Ramora being herself, but the Duskwright caught Wedge's eye and quickly pointed down at Tataru, the cream from her donut, then tapped at her cheek.

Wedge quickly got the hint and saw the cream on Tataru's cheek and quickly pulled out a (thankfully clean) handkerchief, "Tataru, you have some cream on your cheek." He said, "Here." He held the cloth out in offering.

"Oh, thank you, Wedge!" she said, a little embarrassed as she accepted it from him and carefully wiped at her cheek. He glanced up at Ramora, beaming. Last time he'd offered his handkerchief to Tataru, it'd been covered in oil and rust, he'd probably had to strain himself not to use the clean one Ramora had picked out for him for tonight.

Ramora gave him a broad smile of approval before he took another bite of his donut, getting cream on his cheek too.

"Goodness!" Tataru chuckled, "We should've asked Lolz for some napkins!" she then wiped at the cream on his cheek and Wedge's face went crimson.

"So." Ramora said, realizing that if she didn't do something soon, Wedge would faint before he'd have a chance to go to the maze with Tataru, "Have you two gone to the maze yet? It's the most popular attraction!"

"Not yet, we've been having plenty of fun at the booths, but we've been hearing lots of fun things about it."

"It really is fun." Ramora assured her, "I've done it several times and Astrid really outdid herself this year with this one!"

"Indeed she did!" Another voice called out from behind them, the group turned to see Lisette, looking quite pleased to see them enjoying themselves with Biggs right behind her, looking a bit uncomfortable, "Although Ramora and Lolz helping with the advertising and the menu did go a long way into helping with that." she said.

"Of course we would help!" Ramora said, "This is one of Lolzy and my favorite holidays!"

Lolz returned from washing her hands and called out for someone to take the now finished donuts to the front. One of the younger ones quickly took the completed products from her and she began pouring sugar into a pot.

"What about you Lolz?" Wedge asked, "Have you gone into the maze yet?"

"Huh?" She said, snapping herself out of cooking mode and suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable with Lisette's laser focused gaze on her, "Oh, no. I-I haven't seen what she's done with the maze this year yet."

"Oh?" Lisette asked, her tone light, but Ramora knew that the huntress had caught the scent of a single person in the waters and Gods help them, she now had Lolz in her sight.

"I've been meaning to," Lolz insisted, "I've just been so busy helping with the snacks and I promised Astrid I'd make sure the food was perfect... you know how much she wants to prove she can handle this on her own so you and your beloved can spend this holiday together enjoying yourselves instead of working. I just want to make sure that this stall was one thing she didn't have to worry about..." 

Lisette's expression softened a bit, "That's very kind of you, but neither Astrid nor I would want you to overwork yourself."

"I'm fine." She fibbed nervously, "What would make you think I was overworking myself?"

Ramora did her best not to wince at that comment. she and Lolz had been here since mid-morning and she knew for a fact that her pink haired friend had not once taken a break in that entire time, despite her warnings to go into the maze before Lisette started prowling around for single people to partner up.

Lolz was royally screwed.

Lisette slipped into the booth and quickly removed the apron from Lolz's body and strapped it to her own, quickly pulling a small coin purse from one of the pockets and handing it to her, "You've been here since the morning, as much as we appreciate your help, I think you've done enough for the day."

"B-but I promised Astrid-!" Lolz tried.

"Astrid would want you to enjoy yourself today." She said sweetly, "I'll take over for you."

Lolz clearly wanted to protest, but Ramora could see she was struggling to think of a reason. Lisette was a terrifying woman when it came to single people at her festival and while Ramora could find a partner with a snap of her finger and was therefore not one Lisette would play matchmaker with, but Lolz was unfortunately fair game in that regard and both Warriors of Light and the head of this festival knew it.

"You should come with us to the maze, Lolz!" Tataru offered, clearly feeling bad for her being singled out by Lisette.

"Oh, yes!" Wedge said, "You can partner up with Biggs! I heard him talking about wanting to try it earlier today!"

Biggs blushed and looked away and muttered something about Jessie not shutting up about it and wanting to see what all the fuss was about.

"Well then, it's settled!" Lisette said with a clap of her hands, "Ramora, why don't you show them the way to the entrance?" 

Ramora, knowing that she had no way to stop this from happening now, smiled and motioned for the others to follow her.

Astrid had been happy to see them and led Tataru and Wedge towards the entrance of the maze first, leaving the three of them alone.

Ramora turned to Lolz and Biggs, who both looked guilty and uncomfortable.

"I'm a little disappointed in you, Lolzy, you can make better excuses than that." Ramora sighed.

"That woman scares me, alright?" Lolz blurted, shaking a bit.

"You've helped kill False Gods." Ramora argued.

"Yes, so when I say someone scares me, then they're bloody terrifying!" Lolz exclaimed.

"I'm with Lolz on this one." Biggs piped up, "That woman could make an Eikon tremble in a puddle of their own piss."

Ramora sighed, as much as she wanted to be upset, she had planned on tricking them into going into the maze after Wedge and Tataru under the guise of having them keep an eye on those two and, if either Lalafell asked, they could say Lolz was due for a break and Biggs wanted to try it so they decided to go together. So this is technically what she wanted to happen...

But then Lisette had to matchmake snipe her and now instead of Lolz and Biggs going in feeling cheerful and excited at the idea of watching out for their friends potential romance, they were now both shaking in their boots at the thought of Lisette coming back to force them to enjoy the season of love if they weren't a gooey couple by the time they got out of the maze.

"I suppose that's true, she is certainly a force to be reckoned with." she conceded, then said, "You two have fun then, I'll see if I can distract her from asking you two to get your fortunes taken."

"The bloody hell does that mean?" Biggs asked.

"Love Fortunes." Lolz squeaked.

Biggs stiffened, "That's a thing?!" he blurted.

Lolz nodded in confirmation and his face went red.

"Alright, next couple please!" Astrid said excitedly.

Lolz and Biggs exchanged looks, silently resigning to the fact that they couldn't back out now and then stepped forwards, Astrid happily showing them to the entrance and oblivious to the anxiety of the two behind her.

Ramora waited until they were safely in the maze before making her way back to the donut booth.

She and Lisette were going to have a little chat about butting into other people's matchmaking schemes!

-----

I can't be the only one who thinks Lisette hunts for single people like a shark hunts for wounded seals and pounces at the chance to matchmake. Single WoLs beware, she gonna get you a honey wether you like it or not!

[iamapoopmuffin]

Victims With Numbers

Fandom: Nanbaka/Corpse Party (crossover) Genre: Horror Characters: Hajime Sugoroku, Samon Gokuu, Kiji Mitsuba, Kenshirou Yozakura, Jyugo, Uno, Nico, Rock, Tsukumo, Liang, Upa, Qi, Honey, Trois, Musashi, Sachiko Shinozaki, Ryou Yoshizawa, Yuki Kanno, Tokiko Tsuji, Yoshikazu Yanagihori, Yoshie Shinozaki, Takamine Yanagihori, some OCs to take the role of Kizami later on instead of actual Kizami Includes major character death. Chapter 2 of ?

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Something seemed different when they got out into the hall. Like the holes in the floor were in different places now. Weird, but Honey figured he was probably imagining it. Besides, it still smelled of piss and mould. The two set to finding an exit, heading out to look for some stairs. The view out the window told them at the very least that they were on an upper floor, so the front entryway was likely down a flight and hopefully not too far. The halls they passed by were each as old and decrepit as the last, and there wasn't a pretty thing in sight, besides the two of them, of course. It took a few minutes of mindless wandering, but finally they managed to get downstairs and to what appeared to be the entryway. Well, there was a big door, shoe cubbies arranged in neat lines with abandoned footwear lying here and there, and an umbrella stand as well. It looked like the entrance, so the boys stepped over the shoes, clearly children's shoes, and made their way to the door.

"See? I told you we'd find it!" Trois chirped happily as he reached out to tug the door open. Immediately, he frowned. "It seems to be stuck."

"You have got to be kidding." Honey muttered, reaching out himself to help pull. It wouldn't budge even slightly. "The door's locked?!"

"Don't panic. Even if it is locked, there's probably a key around here, or an emergency exit that we'll be able to open from inside. Failing that, like I said before, according to building code at least one window here needs to open. We'll find a way out easily." A smile on his face, Trois went to lead them both away before spotting something in one of the cubbies. "Are these candles?" He asked, as he reached out to grab them. They were short, stubby, white objects partially wrapped in newspaper. At a glance, they did look like candles. "If we find a lighter or matches, we can use these to help light our way. I believe the supervisor of Building 13 smokes, so if we find him, if he's here-" He cut off with a disgusted noise and dropped the candles.

"Trois?"

"Those aren't candles."

"They aren't?" Honey looked down to where they had fallen. Trois had unwrapped them as he spoke, and now he could see that each of them had a little red on one end, and a little pink on the other. The pink was glittery, and looked kind of like nail polish. "Oh god! They're fingers!"

"Human fingers. I was holding severed human fingers. That is so unsanitary."

"Those are a girl's fingers, aren't they?"

"I think so."

"Why are there some girl's fingers in the shoe lockers?!"

"I don't know, Honey. We shouldn't stick around here, though. We need to find somewhere for me to wash my hands, and that emergency exit." With that, they wandered back up the stairs, opening classroom doors as they passed. None of them had any obvious exit in place, and they didn't find anything but classrooms until they got to the top floor, where they found the bathrooms. Trois was delighted, at least. In he marched to wash his hands, and Honey reluctantly went with him. At least if there was running water, he could get something to drink.

The bathrooms stank. Stale urine, clogged drains full of murky water and hair, bugs skittering over the dirty porcelain. When Trois saw the bugs, he backed up from the faucet, looking strangely pale. Well, Honey was always in charge of getting rid of any bugs that made it into their cell, so he was at least a little bit aware that Trois didn't like the nasty little things. Honey turned the tap. It was stiff and rusted, but it turned. Only, no water came out when it did. Not a trickle, not a drop. It looked like all the water that had ever been in the plumbing system was now in the nasty brown puddles in the basins. He tried the other taps as well, to no avail. God damn it, he was thirsty!

"We could collect rain water from an open window." Trois suggested helpfully.

"Right." Honey muttered, stepping back and letting him support him again.

"We ought to check the classrooms in more detail. Actually go inside them and search around. Of course, a lot of them were very dark, so some actual candles would be useful...and we haven't been to the east side of the building yet. There could be something useful over there."

"Right." He repeated. Trois was being oddly positive, and for some reason it was starting to tick Honey off. Before heading back down, Trois suggested they tried the taps in the girls' bathrooms, but of course they didn't work either.

The first classroom they stepped into was darker than the one they'd woken up in, and something about it felt wrong to Honey, but Trois could see a cabinet in the corner and wanted to go check it out, certain there would be something helpful inside. They crossed about halfway to the cabinet before Honey saw something that made him freeze. It was a body, slumped in a chair, nothing but bone and a school uniform. His sudden stop and the intake of breath caught Trois' attention, and he followed his gaze.

"Is that...real?"

"I can't tell. I hope not. It can't be, can it?"

"The fingers were real." Trois went over to get a closer look. "It's real."

"How can you even tell?!"

"Just trust me on this. She couldn't have been much older than fifteen." He seemed to examine the hole in the girl's skull, and Honey looked away. After a moment, he heard Trois cross to the cabinet and try and open it, and then a sound of disappointment. "I can't see anything but hair and dead insects. It's disgusting." And then, he gasped. Honey's head shot up, and Trois was looking back at the body. Only...no, he wasn't looking at the body, he was looking past it, at the opposite corner of the room. Honey followed his gaze, and saw the little girl, no older than seven, crouched in the corner and staring right at him. She didn't look well. Her eyes were dull, and her skin had a grey tint to it, and it looked like there was a blue light around her. "What the fu-?"

He didn't get another sound out before Trois grabbed him by the collar and yanked him hard to the door.

"Trois, what the hell was that for?!" He snapped, as soon as he could breathe again.

"I just got a really bad feeling from that ghost."

"Ghost?" Honey didn't really believe in ghosts, but he had to admit, looking at that girl, he had felt a cold chill down his spine. It hadn't felt right in that room, after all.

"Ghost, yes. I think if we see another one, it's best to avoid it."

Honey nodded uncertainly. "Who do you think the girl was?" He asked as they limped towards a flight of stairs.

"I'm not sure, but I got a bad feeling from her."

"She was a kid."

"A dead kid."

"What the hell is wrong with this pl-" Honey cut off with a shriek as his ankle gave out with a snap. He went pitching down the stairs, only to be caught by his companion before he could go for a hard tumble. "Fuck, fuck, god!" He managed, clinging to Trois for support.

"It's okay, Honey. Sit down. Let me see your leg."

"It fucking hurts!"

"I know. Hold still." Trois removed Honey's shoe as gently as he could. "It's quite swollen. Hopefully that crack wasn't the bone breaking. If we get to another classroom, you could sit at one of the desks-"

"What if they have bodies in them?"

"You'll just have to deal with it. A dead body can't hurt you."

"What about the ghosts that you have bad feelings about? Trois, I am not going into another damn room with a kid's corpse in it!"

Trois scowled. "Fine. Maybe we can find an infirmary or a nurse's office, or a teacher's lounge. Somewhere for you to rest, anyway."

"Body-free."

"I promise." He stood and helped Honey up, continuing to support him as they went to explore the rest of the school.

True to his word, Honey refused to enter any other classrooms, despite Trois' complaints that he was impeding their progress. The longer they stayed in this place that was filled with death, the more anxious and angry Honey felt himself getting, and his companion's complaints were definitely not helping. He could feel his short-fuse temper getting closer and closer to blowing, and the bodies made him feel worse. What if there was someone abducting all these people and killing them? What if that was how they ended up there? Sure, a lot of the bodies were old and bleached, but some were fresh, recently deceased, just like the one they found in the hallway.

They first noticed the smell. Of course, all the bodies had smelled, but there was something really strong about this smell. A metallic smell. If you'd ever had to dissect a body part in a science class, you might know the kind of thing. The smell of the bucket of hearts or whatever else that the teachers wanted you to cut open, giving an overwhelming bloody stench. When they turned the corner, they saw it. The remains of a person, decorating the wall right before them. Honey gagged, covering his mouth and nose as Trois stared at the body in shock.

"This was a person." He whispered in what Honey hoped was horror. "An actual human body." The whole thing was a red mess. Blood, bone and guts splattered over the wall, ceiling and floor. The person it used to be was unrecognisable. No face, no recognisable features of any kind. Wet and dripping and wretched. It was the most gruesome thing Honey had ever seen. Retching, he stumbled back as far as Trois' hold on him would allow. The Frenchman tightened his hold and tried to urge him forward.

"Come on, Honey, just don't look at it and keep walking."

"Stop, I don't want to go this way!"

"There's an infirmary through here, I can see the sign! Just a little further and you can rest your leg. We might even be able to find something to splint you."

After a moment's thought, Honey gave ground, and heard a squelching sound. Trois looked down, and found his foot planted firmly over the body's intestine.

"Oh..."

"You stepped in it!"

"There's blood on my shoe. Honey, do you have a tissue?"

"No."

"That was disgusting. It was like...the way it gave way, the squelching sound-"

Honey retched again. "Stop! Shut the fuck up!" He managed when he was sure he wasn't going to throw up.

"Sorry...come on, let's get your foot seen to."

The infirmary itself was okay. No dead bodies or blood stains. Two beds, some cabinets full of medical supplies, an old space heater they couldn't light and some matches (if only those 'candles' had actually been candles). Another sink was in one corner, and as with all the others, it didn't work. Trois made him sit on the edge of the bed while he rifled around the cabinets. He came over a moment later with some bandages and what looked like a stick of wood.

"There." Trois chirped happily. "All better."

Honey had to admit that he'd done a pretty good job at stabilising his ankle. It actually did feel better. "Thanks, Trois." Was all he said before lying back on the bed.

"Shuffle over a little. I'd like to lie down as well."

He did as told, and the two lay side by side, staring at the ceiling.

"How long do you think we've been here?" Honey asked after a moment.

"I'm not sure. I think dinner's been and gone though."

"Yeah. M'hungry."

"Same. And thirsty."

Honey shifted in place, placing his head near Trois' shoulder. "Do you think anyone else is here? Anyone from the prison, anyone alive..."

"I'm not sure. We haven't seen anyone, have we?"

"No."

"I don't know if we're completely alone."

"I hope not. But, I don't want to be in here with some utter psycho. Plus, people like Uno will just be freaking out."

"I get what you mean. Poor guy."

"Mm." They went quiet for a bit, staying there, side by side.

Then they heard the scream. Trois sat bolt upright. "Was that Uno?"

"It sounded like Uno." Honey muttered, frowning. "I mean, we know what him screaming sounds like."

"It was from upstairs." He got up off the bed. "I'll go look for him." Only, a hand around his wrist stopped him.

"Wait, I'm coming too."

"No, you're hurt. Just stay here and look after yourself. I'll just be a moment, I promise. I'll look around upstairs, but if I can't find him within a few minutes, I'll run right back here."

"You sure?"

"Trust me, I don't want to be alone in here any more than you do, but I doubt Uno wants to be alone either. Maybe he's just seen one of the dead bodies."

"Probably."

"I'll be back before anything bad can happen."

"You'd better be."

Trois nodded and gave him a wave before leaving the infirmary, shutting the door gently behind him. Honey placed his hands behind his head with a sigh. At least having Uno with them would be useful for something, if Trois could find him. He shut his eyes, allowing himself to relax a little. Trois was right, he needed to rest.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a bell toll. It sounded like a clock. The first sign of the passage of time, beyond his grumbling stomach and growing fatigue. Damn it, this sucked. They'd better find that emergency exit soon, especially before they ended up like that body just outside...actually, maybe it was a good thing his stomach was empty. The thought alone of that body could have him throwing up profusely if he was full. That would be embarrassing. It was colder here as well, now Trois wasn't right next to him. Not that he would ever express that thought out loud.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of laughter. Children's laughter. Only, unlike the bell, this sounded like it was right beside him. He turned his head to look, or at least he tried to, but he found he couldn't move. All he could do was strain his eyes trying to look around. The laughter continued, but he couldn't see any children nearby. He did see a flash of red to his other side, and when he looked that way it looked like blood was oozing down the wall. This was actually terrifying. Well, it would be one thing if all this was happening around him and he could move, but no matter how much his mind screamed at him to get out of that bed, his muscles didn't so much as twitch. He couldn't even open his mouth to call for help. The next sound to assault his ears was the sound of scratching, like pen on paper. There had been a notebook on the desk, he remembered, but they'd not given it much thought at all. They'd been preoccupied with Honey's worsening injury. Was someone in here with him? He'd not heard anyone come in, but he may have dozed off after Trois left. He couldn't see anyone, and he couldn't speak to ask. It was so cold, and he had no idea what was going on. He just knew he had no way to defend himself against whatever was in here with him.

A chair moved. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, and then he heard the voice. A woman's voice.

"Let's all go on a trip over the summer vacation." She said, to which a chorus of children's voices agreed quite happily. There was someone here in the room with him, definitely, but he couldn't see her.

He at least hoped she would be hot.

The chair moved over to his bedside, and he watched it approach. No-one there. And the woman's voice again, closer now, like it was coming from the chair. "Sacchan...have you come to find me?" This was so freaky. He couldn't see her at all, and of course had no idea who 'Sacchan' was...though Tsukumo's story had mentioned a female staff member who died and her missing daughter, hadn't it? Was this the murderous teacher ghost?

No, of course not. Honey didn't believe in that sort of stuff at all, it was ridiculous to even think it as a possibility. This was all some kind of sick prank that Building 13 was pulling on them, and when it was over and done with, they would be hearing from his lawyers. They were probably watching from somewhere and having a good laugh. Only...that didn't make sense either. Unless this place really was underneath the building, but then what about what was out the window? He couldn't make sense of any of this and now his mind was going a mile a minute and he had to admit at least to himself that he was panicking.

Then the spirit appeared. It wasn't a hot lady, it wasn't even recognisable as a lady. It was a thick, black smoke in a vaguely human shape, with shining red eyes, sat calmly in the chair. It reached out one creepy arm towards him, and called out that name again. 'Sacchan'.

Upstairs, Trois still hadn't found Uno. He didn't think he'd been gone that long, but he had to admit, being alone in here was unnerving. He was doing a quick sweep of the upper floors, jogging but not running, keeping his eyes and ears peeled as he called out for Uno. He had to be somewhere nearby, this had to be where he'd heard that scream coming from. He was considering turning back and returning to the infirmary when he turned the corner and saw the figure slumped in the chair. It was mostly in the shadows, and they had their back to him, but he could just about make out the long, blond braid trailing down over the floor.

"Uno?" He called uncertainly as he drew closer, slowing to a walk now. The body in the chair was very still, unnaturally so. That wasn't a good sign. Plus, it wasn't even Uno to begin with. The person's hair was blonde, just blonde, no other colour in sight, unless that was a trick of the light, or lack thereof. So why was he still walking towards them? "Are you okay?" He heard himself asking as he reached out to tap the person on the shoulder. His touch caused the body to overbalance and fall. Well, the top half, anyway. The person's top half had come away from the bottom, and it looked like the body had been there for a while. There was something oozing from it and he didn't think it was blood, but whatever it was, it was on his hand now and he needed to find somewhere to wipe it off, urgently. His clean hand, or relatively clean, anyway, since he still hadn't been able to wash up after touching the severed fingers, came up over his mouth and nose as he backed away, only to step on something hard. A bone. No, there was still flesh attached, but it looked like it had been eaten away. It took a lot more effort than he'd have liked to swallow back the scream bubbling up in his chest. They needed to get out of here, and soon. He jogged back the way he came, aiming to get back to the infirmary before anything could happen to him.

Honey couldn't breathe. The smokey figure was thick and heavy, and baring down hard on his chest. His lungs didn't have any room to expand, and the smoke flowing into his nose and forcing open his jaw to dive down his throat meant there was no way he'd be able to get any air. He was choking. He couldn't see past the smoke. His consciousness was fading out and everything hurt, everything burnt. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Hadn't Trois promised he would be back before anything bad could happen? Where was he? Why was he about to die alone and scared in this nasty old room? He'd said they would get out of there together, so where was he?

Why was he just giving up? Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he even twitch? Was it fear locking him up like this, or was it something about this room, about these spirits? This thing that was attacking him...

Another scream filled his ears, and suddenly he found his limbs obeying him. It was like he had been pinned down by something, and the scream had attracted its attention. Perhaps he really had dozed off when Trois left and that had all been a nightmare, but once that weight was gone, he sat up, coughing, spluttering, trying to take great gulps of air. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to get his breath back, call out for help, but his throat was so sore now, he could barely raise his voice. But it was fine now, right? That shadowy thing had left him alone. It was all a bad dream.

He wiped his eyes dry before opening them again, and saw the thing right next to the bed still. And he screamed. It reached for him again, and he scrambled off the end of the bed, running right for the door. He had to get out of there before that thing grabbed him again. He managed to get there without falling flat on his face, but the door was covered in something black. Like it was covered in thick, black hair, criss-crossed all over the place. He couldn't even see the handle. He tried to grip the edge of the door and pull, but the hair held it in place. He couldn't open the door. He was trapped in there with that apparition. How the hell was he supposed to get rid of all that hair?

The matches. The matches next to the space heater. He could burn it. He pushed away from the door, and ran right through the ghost, which at least told him it wasn't solid enough to stop him, but even passing through that smoke briefly was awful. It was cold and thick and had him gagging and coughing again. He staggered and fell, gasping as he felt his insides freezing and churning, and crawled towards the heater. His path was blocked by a sudden shoot of what appeared to be flame, but dark. It gave off the heat of a real fire, but at the same time it was like the shadow of a flame...if flame could give off a shadow. He had to get around it, get around to the other side without burning himself or going through that ghost again. As he scrambled up, he at least noticed the damn thing was moving slowly. Sure, with the panic, the obstacles and his injury, he couldn't exactly move at speed himself, but it made it just a bit easier to scrabble past it. He almost knocked over one of the dividing curtains in his rush to get past the desk and cabinets, to get to the small box of matches. It never crossed his mind to search the cabinets for anything else he could use. He wouldn't have had enough time anyway. As it was, in the time it took him to get down and pick up the box, the spirit had moved to follow the path he took, meaning that when he went to pass the desk again, it was right there in the way. With a shriek, he jerked back, and backed right into one of the cabinets.

The sound of the bottles hitting the floor had him looking down long enough to make sure he wouldn't step on any glass or end up flat on his back, and long enough to spot the word 'alcohol' on one of the bottles. Long enough for a thought to spark in his head. Alcohol had more of a chance of catching alight than the dry hair, right? At least, it would burn faster, right? With the fire blocking one path of escape, and the deadly ghost lady blocking the other, and the assumption that neither the alcohol nor the matches would get rid of either threat, he had to think fast, and thinking fast brought him to the conclusion that he could charge through the partitions, use them as a path. When he knocked the curtain over and tried to cross it, another flame erupted, bursting through it and causing him to veer to the side at the last minute. The ghost happily stepped on the curtain, but seemed to speed up as he tried to get his balance back, almost as if trashing the infirmary was pissing it off. Well, good. Screw the stupid thing, as long as its angry, ethereal ass didn't catch him and choke him to death. As he dashed towards the door, he fumbled with the lid of the bottle. Once it was open, he threw it at the door and tried to light a match in a panic.

"Come on!" He yelled, "Light! Just fucking light!"

There! A flame! The hair was alight, the smell just as foul as any other in this building, and as he felt the spirit draw closer, Honey gave in to the panic and grabbed the door, heaving it open. The burning hair gave way as the ghostly hands made another grab for him, and he screamed as the flames seared his flesh, but the door opened and he went sprawling in his rush to leave. He scrambled away from the door, and glanced back to see the spirit hadn't left the infirmary. It stood just past the door, staring at him as he tried to get his breath back.

"Sacchan..."

"...Sacchaaan..."

"...Sacchaaaan..."

"I'll kill you"

Not wanting to be near that thing any longer, Honey forced himself to his feet and ran down the hall, only to meet with a sight he didn't want to see again. The body on the wall. He dropped to his knees in front of it and threw up. He threw up until he couldn't bring up any more bile, and continued to dry heave even after that. And then there was a hand on his back and a soothing voice by his ear.

"It's okay, Honey, it's okay." Trois was back. "Take a moment. It's going to be okay."

"How...how can you say that?"

"Hmm?"

Honey shot a glare at him and pushed him away. "How can you say it's going to be okay? The doors won't open, the windows won't open, this place is full of dead bodies! We can't find a single living person! We are alone in here, and we are never getting out of here alive, you realise that, don't you? Don't you? We're going to die, and nobody will ever find our bodies! They won't even think to look for us! What will we be to them but a couple of escaped convicts? It'll never cross their minds that we were abducted!"

"You're overreacting." Trois assured him with a gentle smile. "I'm certain we'll find a way out of here, and you know the others. They wouldn't just assume we escaped under such suspicious circumstances."

"Bullshit. We wouldn't be a priority. And as for you, where the hell did you go?!"

"I was-"

"Looking for Uno, I know. Well? Did you find him? Obviously not, or he'd be with you now! You said you'd be back before anything happened! You were gone for hours, you stupid ass! That thing in the nurse's office could have killed me! Would you even care? I doubt it, you'd probably pass some stupid snarky comment."

Trois was clearly getting tired of this. He sighed, but plastered another strained smile on his face. "Okay, I won't take this personally. I understand now, you've experienced something traumatic. You're very stressed out. I'd rather you didn't take it out on me, but just take a moment, try and calm down."

"Stop talking like that! You're being so freaking positive, it's creepy! It's like some sick part of you is enjoying this, and you're pissed that I'm not having as much fucked up fun as you are!...You are enjoying this. You must be even more of a psycho than I thought! I bet you wouldn't even care if someone here did die! You'd just find it fascinating, or something creepy like that! Just get away from me!"

Trois let the smile slip away from his face, and Honey knew he'd gone too far. Somewhere in his ranting, he'd managed to strike a nerve. Trois was right. He was spewing venom at him, and it was by no means his fault that he was in such a pissy mood, or that he had just been attacked. He needed to apologise.

"You don't know anything about me." Trois told him in a warning tone. "Besides, I thought you didn't want to be alone."

"I...I...I don't care any more! I'd rather be on my own than with a freak like you! Just get lost!"

That wasn't what he meant to say. His companion nodded and got to his feet.

"I see. I'll go this way, then, and see if I can find anyone else. If you want to come with me, I won't stop you. You don't even have to apologise, just follow. If you really do want to split up and be by yourself for a bit, so be it. Just walk the other way."

Honey listened to his footsteps fade away, then cursed under his breath and walked in the opposite direction.

[jazzy-kandra]

Noodles and Company

After a long stay in South Scadrial, Marsh returns home to find a bowl of warm noodles, a purring cat, and some unwanted company. AU. Mistshot series. Spoilers for Bands and Secret History. For @eyeronis, since I promised some time ago to write you a domestic Marsh story, I didn’t forget, the first draft just wasn’t working...

Generally speaking, Marsh was happy these days.

He had a flat in the midst of downtown Elendel, a new bottle of wine, and would soon have peace and quiet after months of spending too much time around too many people far younger than him. Yes, Sazed had asked him to go to the South and the work he had done down there - studying their cultures, their technology, and their ongoing struggles with those they referred to as the Maskless barbarians - was important, he was relief to return to his apartment and take a well-deserved break.

Marsh smiled, slipping the key into the lock. Unlike what the stories said, he did not always have two spikes or a bald head. Vin had removed the spike in his right eye, and while he hadn’t been able to heal that injury completely, he’d gotten his eye back. (1) His hair, still blond, fell past his ears, longer than Marsh preferred. He’d have to get that cut. Hopefully Harmony wouldn’t need old Ironeyes to appear anytime soon, it always seemed to take it’s godsdamn to grow back.

He was Marsh, not Ironeyes, no matter what Northerners believed. With a hump, and final jiggle of his key into the damn old lock, he finally unlocked the door and stepped into his flat, but stood in the small foyer in shock.

The lights were on. There was no dust on the wooden furniture, picture frames, or bookshelves. The floor-to-ceiling windows were not only clean but had the maroon curtains drawn back. Someone had removed the white sheets from his leather furniture which was slightly scratched up. And there was a new glass vase filled with fresh Marewill blossoms resting on the dining table.

Why did he have to be here today of all days? A steam of curses alighted from Marsh’s lips.

“Are you done?” asked his unwanted guess. Marsh burned bronze. He was in the kitchen, it seemed. All he could sense was his Investiture through the thin wall.

“Rust and Ruin,” he said, still seething with anger. “What in Hell are you doing here?”

Kelsier’s head poked out of the half-open kitchen door. Long blond held back in a loose ponytail, face clean shaven (at least he had gotten rid of that stupid facial hair), and his face seemed to have a few more lines edged into it. That last detail was probably just his imagination. Cognitive Shadows weren’s supposed to age, right? A part of their Identity still viewed themselves as dead, even when they were in physical form. (2)

Still, Marsh grimaced at the sight. Kelsier wasn’t pretending to be the Lord Ruler these days, why did he still insist on keeping his hair so long? It was improper! Did that woman like it? He would never understand her sense of taste.

“That’s a secret,” Kelsier said. Marsh flattened his lips into a frown. “At least for the next few minutes it is.”

Kelsier slipped back into the kitchen, closing the door. What was that smell? Was Kelsier cooking?

Marsh sighed, slumping down onto his brown leather couch. It was just his luck that his brother had come to visit right when he got back. The man wasn’t quite as bad as he once had been in some respects, but he was just as annoying in others, some of them new. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Kelsier was tapping Fortune just so he could show up at the best times to annoy Marsh for the rest of eternity.

At least, that’s how he thought Fortune worked. It wasn’t a power he had access to though, despite all his spikes.

“Your noodles are served,” Kelsier said, dramatically handing him a bowl of strange, curly noodles with even stranger looking vegetables and bits of mystery meat in the broth. Marsh scowled in disgust. What in the cosmere had Kelsier brought him this time? “Oh don’t give me that look, it’s perfectly edible.”

“Edible doesn’t mean they’re something a man should want to eat.” Marsh grimaced, staring at the bowl on his lap.

Kelsier took the only wooden chair in this part of the great room, sitting on it backwards out of habit. He dove into his bowl of noodles with the kind of reckless abandon that only a Cognitive Shadow who did not have to worry about what he ate could.

“Kelsier,” he said, “that’s disgusting.”

The man looked up, a mouthful of noodles hanging from his mouth.

“What would our mother say?”

Kelsier just snorted, finishing that mouthful before he spoke. “Eat your noodles, Marsh,” he said in a slightly higher pitched nasally voice. “You never know when we’ll get our next meal.”

Marsh rolled his eye. They’d actually never been without food as children. Neither of them had really understood what it meant to starve - even a little - until they were adults. “Coppermind?”

He nodded, holding up a small diamond ring made of copper that was a replica of one their mother had once worn. Sentimental bastard. “Eat your noodles, brother, and I’ll tell you why I decided to bother you when you just got back.”

How does he know that! Marsh thought, miffed.

I may have let it slip, I think. Sazed, it seemed, was paying some attention to this conversation. Do not worry, Marsh. There is a low likelihood that those noodles will upset your stomach, and an even lower chance that they will kill you.

Wonderful. Just the kind of answers he wanted.

Do the damn things taste good at least?

I’m afraid I cannot answer that.

He should’ve expected this. Shards didn’t exactly need nourishment, and while Harmony doubtlessly knew the likely outcome of these events, it wasn’t like him to share said information.

Especially when both he and Kelsier were in on some grand joke.

“Speaking with Saze?” Kelsier asked. “They won’t taste good at all if they get cold.”

Marsh grunted. Then sighed. That was something their mother had said too. He might as well get this over with. Wearily, he twirled the noodles around his fork, then slowly took a bite. They were spicy, but not as hot as Terris noodles, and surprisingly favorable. He swallowed, still shocked that he actually liked something from another planet.

“What’s wrong?” Kelsier said, looking concern. “Oh dammit. This isn’t the future where you choke to death, is it?”

He flipped Kelsier a rude gesture. “They’re...actually good,” he admitted, taking another bite. “Damn you.”

Kelsier laughed. Harmony joined him in his merriment. Why did he have such poor choices in friends?

“And him.” He did not speak again until he finished the rest, and emptied a glass of wine that Kelsier had wordlessly poured at some point, a twinkle of amusement still alive in his brother’s eye. “Now, why in hell are you here?”

“To win a bet!” he said with all too much cheer.

“A bet about what?” he asked, though he feared he already knew the answer. “Dear Harmony, you ruined my peaceful day for some bet you made with that damned Nazh-person, didn’t you?”

He nodded with a show of faux sincerity. “Sorry,” he said. “If it makes you feel better, I brought you a new cat.”

Marsh gave him a dry look. He didn’t hate cats, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the creatures, either. They scratched up your nice leather furniture and got white fur all over your nice black cloak. That was, of course, when said cat decided to come out of nowhere and jump on his lap, kneading his legs. Soon, it curled up and fell asleep, purring loudly near his knees, almost out of reach.

“I prefer dogs.” Marsh stroked the cat’s long fur despite his words. At least it wasn’t white this time, just some dark shade of grey with bright green eyes. It was...admittedly rather adorable. Dammit.

“She’ll lick your hand given the opportunity,” Kelsier said.

He stared at him in reply. Of course his brother thought that would fix the problem, but he supposed it was a fair compromise. After all, Marsh’s landlady did not allow dogs in her building. Thus, this cat was the closest thing he would get.

It was thoughtful...in a Kelsier-like way.

“Plus, Vin seems to like you.”

“You named a cat after Vin...?” he said in mild disbelief. “Kelsier.”

“She was catlike.”

He lifted a hand to his cover his eye spike. “I know you miss her, but this is insane.”

“That’s what makes you question my sanity these days?” Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “Not going to Taldain to steal the technology and recipe for making instant noodles?”

What.

“Nor pissing off a goddess for stealing said recipe?”

The.

“Or bringing back the god Trell because I pissed her off?”

Hell.

Marsh stared at him in the kind of loud silence only his brother could produce. He thought he’d seen the limits of Kelsier’s stupidity when he got himself killed to bring about the end of the Final Empire. At least that time he had a good reason for his actions. This though...this...Marsh nearly stood up and decked him. Harmony knew Kelsier deserved it.

“Marsh?”

Marsh blinked.

“You’re telling me,” he began once he regained some semblance of composure, “that the reason the Set is working for a foreign god is because you pissed off another Vessel all for the sake of a bowl of instant noodles.”

“Several bowls. If we don’t control the market on convenient foods, it will jeopardize our Cognitive Realm-based economy!”

Marsh glared. “Brother.”

“Yes?”

“Last I recall, you went to Taldain to help Khriss visit her homeland,” he said. Or at least that had been part of the plan. Marsh wasn’t aware of all the details. Usually tales of his brother’s adventures in the greater cosmsere gave him a headache...and he already had one. “Not noodles.”

Kelsier shrugged. “They are good noodles,” he said, then he added as though in afterthought: “Fine. I think she was angered that a servant of Harmony had the guts to ‘interfere’ with her Autonomy.”

Marsh nodded. He, for one, wouldn’t call Kelsier a servant of Harmony. Maybe an ally of some type, but his brother had his own agenda, though both were trying to make sure Scadrial ‘survived’ what was coming. Whatever the Hell that meant.

“Go on...,” he said.

“And that we were able to hide from her for so long by storing the correct attributes in medallions,” he said, then waved a dismissive hand at that. “But that’s a long story, we can speak of it later. Harmony wants us to speak with that idiot Ladrian boy and his friend, Marasi. You’ll need to shave your head, I fear.”

He said that with a slight smirk. Kelsier knew how much Marsh hated doing so. The thought filled him with dread, but he would not let his brother ‘help’ him this time. Marsh stroked his new cat for comfort.

“We’ve got reports from our spies that the Set has found a way to produce Atium,” he said. “They can’t burn it, of course, unless they have a Mistborn we don’t know of. But you know why it’s something to be feared: with that metal, they can use it to steal any power or attribute...” (2)

Marsh sighed, pouring himself another glass of wine. Damn. This was going to be one hell of a long day.

*** A/N: All WoBs in Footnotes are shortened/linked for brevity. This is a story, not theorycraft.

(1) Based on this WoB:

"Brandon Sanderson: Or really I can tell you--it's in my notes, and I don't have them, but it's not particularly relevant--it's the opposite side of the one where Death's skull was crushed. Questioner: Oh, yes. Yes. Brandon Sanderson: They would look like mirror images if you saw them.”

(2) To keep spoilers at bay for a certain book, I will not be delving into an explanation on this one. Marsh, however, doesn’t have the best understanding of Investiture, Identity, and other such concepts. He’s certainly cosmere aware, but he’s also no arcanist.

(3) And you THOUGHT Atium wasn’t useful in modern Scadrial. It is for Hemalurgy at least, and an organization like the Set would find it very useful indeed. Based on this WoB about atium’s actual Hemalurgic uses.

[spxderman-s]

Plain Face [Part 3]

[part 1] [part 2]

pairings: peter parker x rogers!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: major angst, swearing, punching stuff, mention of blood

a/n: this feels so good to branch out and incorporate other mcu characters into my stuff omfg. it also felt really good to write this part because it got a little personal?? and so most of the angst in here are real emotions that i’m feeling. anyways--the much anticipated part 3!! 

tagging: @aussie-mantle @chicaplier-fourtris @tronnoristheotp @nedthegay @i-saved-me @theweirdowithablogo @skymoonandstardust @timemngmtoptimisationproblems @thumper-darling @holywinchesterness @grabyourpolaroidandmyhand @ketterdame @tonight-couldbeforgettable @dimplesandcutesmiles @terrashrone @leorai-lemony-lewa

  “Kid, you gotta tell her at some point,” Tony spoke absentmindedly as he tinkered with some rusted tech in his lab. The com in his ear he was speaking into let out an audible sigh, followed by:

“If I tell her, that puts her at risk,” Peter mumbled, talking on his phone to Tony in his own apartment--the door shut in case May was listening. He paced his room, folding and unfolding his arms. “Not to mention she’d never trust me again.”

“I don’t know, she’s Cap’s daughter--and we all know how star-spangled awesome he is,” Tony replied, rewiring some hardware. “Look, she’s a good, understanding kid. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Peter swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “What happens if it isn’t fine?”

“Well, you’re gonna be working with her regardless, so it’s up to you.” A spark ignited from the tech in Tony’s hands, causing him to curse and drop it, and a knock sounded at his office door. “Listen, kid--I gotta go. Tell her the truth, and it’ll all be fine.”

The line disconnected, leaving Peter standing in the middle of his bedroom, phone still pressed to his ear. “H-hello? Mr. Stark?” After realizing Tony was no longer there, Peter gave another heavy sigh and tossed the phone on his bed.

“Peter?” May’s voice called out. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied, wincing. He stared at his phone, knowing that if he texted her, she would reply right away. He wondered if she was home.

He opened his door just a crack, seeing May humming to herself in the kitchen, stirring something in a big bowl. He quietly slipped out, and was sneaking past the kitchen before she suddenly said, “Where are you going?”

Peter swore under his breath. “I--uh, was gonna get some fresh air. Can’t focus on homework.”

May saw right through him. Pointing her spoon at him, she said, “Are you gonna go hang out with [Y/N]?”

“I may go see if she’s--uh, home.”

“Is everything alright with you two?”

Peter took too long to answer. May set the bowl on the counter and crossed her arms, her glasses enhancing the worried expression that appeared on her face. Peter nodded his head vigorously, “Everything’s fine,” he said quickly. “School is just--whew. You know how it gets.”

May’s expression didn’t change, but she picked up her bowl and resumed stirring. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Peter nodded again. “I-I know. But I promise, everything’s fine.”

He gave her a half-smile, and quickly left the confinements of the apartment. Closing the door behind him, he stared at [Y/N]’s across the hall. It would be so easy to just go up and knock, to tell her everything--but he knew it wasn’t that simple. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he left the building without saying a word.

“You want me to do what?” you asked Tony, who patted the cinder block on the table in front of the two of you.

“I want you to hit it. Crush it. Test your strength.”

You exhaled a heavy breath, staring at your hand folding into a fist. “Just--hit it?”

“However you hit stuff, I guess.”

You lifted your arm above your head, thinking about how much this was going to hurt, and brought your fist down upon the block of concrete with all of your might. After a puff of grey powder exploded over you, only a dull ache throbbed in your hand. The dust settled, and you stared at the cinder block in front of you--completely smashed into two pieces of rubble. Tony had an excited grin on his face, offering you a towel.

“Holy shit,” you said, staring down at your fist. “Holy shit!” You wiped the cement dust off of your hands, and looked to Tony with your mouth open.

“How did that feel?” he asked, skimming over a tablet, checking your vitals. “Elevated heart rate, full of adrenaline. I’m guessing it felt good?”

“It felt….amazing,” you admitted, rubbing your throbbing fist. “Although it feels a little sore now.”

“You’re still human,” he reminded you with a look over his glasses. “You aren’t immune to pain, shock, whatever. I don’t think you or Rogers are immortal, either. Your metabolic functions are enhanced off the charts, and you’re basically immune to any kind of fatigue--but I don’t think that extends to death.”

Gulping, you didn’t want to think about you or your father testing that theory. “Being immune to fatigue makes sense now,” you said, changing the subject. “My fastest mile is seventy-three seconds.”

“And you never thought that was weird?”

You shrugged. “I just thought I was good.”

Tony stared at you. “You’re nearly twice as fast as the best runners in history.”

Opening your mouth to reply, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Sliding it out, you looked at the little message from your father that read: Working late, won’t be home until tomorrow morning. Sorry, kiddo. I love you.

Disappointment sank into your chest. Putting your phone back into your pocket, you looked to Tony, who was busy tapping onto his tablet.

“I, uh--I gotta get going.”

“Why?” he asked, not looking up at you. “Rogers is in Lagos until tomorrow morning.”

“How do you--nevermind,” you said, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tony.”

He gave a mock salute, and you slipped out quietly from his lab.

Walking along the streets, you breathed in the crisp, night air. Cars continued to honk in the distance, a siren sounded somewhere, and you were pretty sure someone was yelling some obscenity out of their window. You couldn’t stop rubbing the fist that completely obliterated the block of concrete, the dull throb long gone now. You couldn’t believe that all this time--you had harbored this strength and endurance, what your father was famous for. It all passed to you. You were truly the daughter of Captain America.

A sense of anger fell over you the more you repeated those words in your head. Your father had to have known, and all this time--he kept you hidden from yourself. You tried to justify it, but no matter how your thoughts collided in your mind, you couldn’t find an explanation. Part of you didn’t want to.

How could you tell him without him getting angry at you, and especially Tony? You would have to leave him out of it. And Peter--Peter knew about him.

Peter. You had completely forgot about him, until you turned onto your street and up the stairs of your building. Fumbling for your keys, you decided to see if he was home. You needed to vent to someone, all of this information sitting in your head was beginning to bubble and fester.

Knocking on his apartment door, you heard someone get up and walk across the room. The door opened, revealing May’s smiling face.

“[Y/N]!” she exclaimed happily, opening her arms for a hug. “I haven’t seen you around a whole lot, is everything okay?”

You graciously accepted the hug, holding onto her tightly. Her perfume was sweet and comforting, and you never wanted to let go. You had never known your own mother, and you always longed for that special, maternal contact. May was beginning to fill that void--she was so welcoming to you, even before you and Peter had begun to spend time together.

“School is starting to get a little overwhelming,” you lied, breaking the hug.

May gave a sympathetic look, and gestured into the apartment. “Do you wanna come in for a bit? I made cannoli--new recipe. Peter went out for a walk, he should be home soon.” She paused for a moment. “I’m surprised he’s not with you.”

“I wasn’t home,” you said, shrugging. “I--uh, got a Stark internship as well. Stayed later than I anticipated.”

May clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s amazing! Hopefully you and Peter will work together, then.” She quickly ushered you inside before you could decline, sitting you at their small table by the kitchen. Placing a plate of cannoli in front of you, she sat opposite you and smiled. “Is everything okay between you and Peter?”

You picked up one of the pastries and tentatively took a bite. “Yeah, I think we’re both stressed out with school and work, that’s all.”

She didn’t seem like she believed you, but she dropped the subject. You both chatted mindlessly about anything else, until keys jingled in the front door’s lock. Peter stepped in, closed it behind him, and froze as his eyes landed on you and May sitting together at the table. Looking at him now you wanted nothing more than to run to him, to hold onto him for dear life, but you were glued to your seat, staring at him. May grinned, and gestured to you. “We were just having some one-on-one time--have some cannolis, join us!”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, and cleared your throat. “I--uh--I actually should get going. But thank you so much for the food, it was really good. And uh….thank you for talking with me. It was really nice.”

May smiled softly, and patted your hand. “Alright, don’t be a stranger, [Y/N].”

“I won’t,” you said sincerely. Picking up your bag, you skirted around Peter, who still stood awkwardly by the door, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. “I’ll….I’ll see you at school, right?”

He nodded, not looking at you. An unwelcome pang of hurt hit you in the chest, and you quickly left his apartment and went into your own. Collapsing on the couch, you pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them tightly. The room was dark and cold and empty again, and you found yourself beginning to cry silently. May’s perfume clung to you, and you started to cry harder. Alone. That was what you were familiar with, but you had gotten a taste of what family should be. You longed for a mother, even a father--just someone who would stick around. Someone who would stay, someone who would be your constant.

That angry feeling settled into your gut again. Furiously wiping the tears from your face, you noticed that your hands had turned into tight fists again, your fingernails digging into your palms. You needed to hit something.

In a few swift moments, you changed into the clothes you wore to work out, grabbed your duffle bag with waters, your gloves, some bandages, and left the apartment, slamming the door angrily--the sound reverberated down the hall, shaking the walls. You heard the sound of wood cracking, and glanced behind you. One of the hinges had shattered. You adjusted the bag on your shoulder and left the building.

“Was that [Y/N]’s door?” May asked Peter, cleaning up the kitchen table, listening to the sounds outside of the apartment. He sat up, alert. Something was wrong. Standing up, he turned to May to say something, but her expression said everything that needed to be said. He quickly grabbed his backpack in his room, and left out the front door.

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at [Y/N]’s own door. Making a note of the broken hinge, he looked down the hall for you, disappointment and fear setting in his bones. Afraid something had happened to her, he sprinted down the hall, taking his suit out of his backpack and donning it mid-run. He didn’t care at this point, all he cared about was getting to her.

You shoved the rusted key into the old door in Brooklyn, and shouldered it open with a push. It creaked, the familiar sound almost a welcoming committee. A rush of warm, musty air that smelled of sweat and salt hit you. The fluorescent lights blinked on as you flicked the switch, illuminating the punching bags hanging from the pipes in the naked ceiling. Dropping your bag to the floor with a thud, you pulled out your gloves and began wrapping your hands in them….but something made you change your mind. You left the gloves in your bag and approached the punching bag with bare fists.

All of the rage that had been bubbling and building up in your chest was manifesting itself in your trembling hands and tensed muscles. Standing in front of the bag, you envisioned your father--looking at you with disappointment. You imagined a faceless woman standing next to him, a mother you never knew.

You didn’t even realize you had struck the bag until you noticed it swinging, dust rising off of it. And it felt good. You hit it again, but harder this time. Pain lanced through your knuckles, but it only pushed you to hit it again and again and again, harder each time. You were crying now, angry tears running down your cheeks. You crashed your fist into the punching bag one last time, all of your known strength packed behind it, and the chain that held it up exploded--sending the bag flying clear across the room in a puff of dust. 

Standing there, breathing heavily, you looked down at your hands. A trickle of blood dripped from a split in your knuckles, crimson drops pattering on the gym floor.

Swallowing hard, the red curtain of rage was gone from your vision. Now you were just sad, going and picking up the destroyed punching bag with ease and tossing it over to the side of the gym. A heavy sigh escaping you, you wrapped your injured hand with the bandages in your bag, and left, shutting the heavy metal door behind you. You locked it, and after a moment of standing on the empty street, you threw the key in front of you, watching it disappear in the dark.

[part 4]

[kristablogs]

How to get your grill ready for summer

If you've neglected your grill, a bit of work will have it looking (and cooking) great. (Whitson Gordon/)

Few things are more exciting than that first 60-degree day after a harsh winter, when you can finally break out the grill and… stare in disbelief at the rusty, charred mess in front of you. Before you admit defeat and order pizza, give that grill a good deep cleaning—you’d be surprised what a bit of elbow grease can do.

“People have a tendency to forget how old their grills are, and when the last time they cleaned it was,” says Kevin Kolman, head grillmaster at Weber. Over time, the inside of your grill gets covered with schmutz—a word he assures me is official barbecue terminology—which can result in inconsistent temperatures and a lack of adequate heat. It can also cause minor flare-ups and other performance issues. A quick cleaning once a month can help avoid such problems, but if it’s been a bit longer than that—don’t worry, you aren’t alone—you may want to go a bit deeper.

What you’ll need for your deep clean

The moment you rouse your grill from its winter hibernation is a great time to give it a thorough cleaning, so it’s ready for the season. To do so, you’ll need a few things:

<b>A grill brush.</b> Kolman recommends buying a new grill brush every year. That way, you aren’t using a rusty five-year-old brush every time you fire up the barbie, and you can use last year’s brush for the early-season deep clean without worrying about ruining it. He likes <a href="https://ift.tt/2zIuRfW" target=_blank>Weber’s own 3-sided grill brush</a>—unsurprising since he works for the company—but <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3F0fRAPkn9U" target=_blank>so does America’s Test Kitchen</a>, so that’s what I used for this guide. Whatever you choose, make sure it’s a highly-rated brush from a trusted brand, since some cheaper ones can fall apart or strip the coating off your grates.

<b>A paint scraper.</b> Either <a href="https://ift.tt/2X0hIH9" target=_blank>metal</a> or <a href="https://ift.tt/2WwU4my" target=_blank>plastic</a> should work fine, Kolman says—you just want something with a flat edge that will scrape debris off the inside of your grill.

<b>Grill and grate cleaner.</b> A spray-on grill cleaner isn’t always necessary, but it can help make stubborn, burnt-on food easier to scrape off. I used <a href="https://ift.tt/2T6aIri" target=_blank>this Goo Gone grill cleaner</a>, though <a href="https://ift.tt/3bEER7b" target=_blank>Easy-Off</a> is another popular option, and <a href="https://ift.tt/3cMsbMU" target=_blank>Weber makes its own spray</a>, too.

<b>A scouring pad.</b> A <a href="https://ift.tt/2X3F6DC" target=_blank>mild scrubbing pad</a> will help clean off some of the more stubborn gunk.

<b>Dish soap.</b> You probably already have some in your kitchen—<a href="https://ift.tt/2z3kHGX" target=_blank>any decent dish soap</a> designed to de-grease should work fine.

<b>Stainless steel and/or glass cleaner.</b> If your grill has a porcelain hood, you can clean it with any old glass cleaner and paper towel. For stainless steel hoods and side tables, though, you’ll want a more specialized stainless steel cleaner and polish like <a href="https://ift.tt/2LsRZC1" target=_blank>this spray from Weiman</a>.

<b>A microfiber towel.</b> Again, if you have any stainless steel parts, <a href="https://ift.tt/2zIuYrS" target=_blank>a non-abrasive cloth</a> will help prevent cleaning-related scratches.

Get fired up—let’s do this

Once you have the necessary tools, it’s time to open up your grill and marvel at the disgusting state you left it in. We got our hands on a particularly neglected grill for this demonstration; hopefully yours looks a little better.

If your grill runs on gas, make sure its fuel supply has been turned off at the source—that little knob should always be shut when your grill is not in use—and survey the damage. (If you’re using a charcoal grill, the advice about some components—like burners—obviously won’t be relevant, but the rest of the guide should suit you well. Just follow the parts that apply to you.)

1. Remove the grill grates, along with any heat-dissipating panels and other easily removable parts. Weber grills often have a set of “flavorizer bars” above the burners that you’ll want to remove, for example. These parts may have a decent amount of rust, but as long as they don’t come in direct contact with food, that’s okay. We’ll still give them a good clean, but you aren’t likely to get them back to their original steel shine. “As long as the burners and bars do not have holes or pitted areas, these parts will work just fine,” Kolman says. “Issues occur when they are pitted, have holes and are breaking apart.”

2. Put some of your dish detergent in a large bucket and fill it with warm water. Toss in the grates, heat panels, and flavorizer bars and let them soak for a few minutes. (I didn’t have a bucket big enough to fit everything, so I used the lid to my kid’s old plastic sandbox. Whatever works, right?) If your grates are made of bare cast-iron instead of stainless steel, you don’t want to soak them—it can ruin the seasoning. Leave them aside for now.

3. Get brushing. While the removable parts soak, take your grill brush and give your burner tubes a once-over, making sure there isn’t any debris blocking the holes in the burner. Brush across the tubes, rather than along the length of each one—you don’t want to push debris into the holes as you go, as it can block the flame or clog the burners. Again, don’t worry if these are a little rusty—that’s normal.

Be careful when you brush the burners—you want to clean them, not fill them with gunk. (Whitson Gordon/)

4. Go back to your soapy bucket and give your steel components a good scrub with your scouring pad. If you need a bit of extra cleaning power, spray them with some grill and grate cleaner, let it sit for a moment, then scrub away. Be sure to rinse these parts with clean water when you’re done, then dry them with a rag.

5. Turn your attention to the grill itself. Start by checking the lid. If you see any flakes peeling along the inside, don’t panic: It’s not paint. “Because of the heat or moisture humidity inside there, the smoke has a tendency to bake itself onto the inside of the lid, and it’ll start to sheet itself off,” Kolman says. You can easily take your putty knife or grill brush and scrape away all that carbonized grease. It’s okay if it falls into the cookbox, because we’re about to clean that, too.

6. Check out the cookbox. There’s a good chance you have a lot of grease and food residue in the cookbox along the bottom of your grill. If so, grab a shop vacuum and clear out all the loose debris you can. (If you don’t have one, you can shovel some of it out yourself, but a small, relatively inexpensive shop vac goes a long way.) If there’s any debris caked on the bottom of the cookbox, grab your paint scraper and scrape it off. If it’s really fossilized, spray your grill cleaner, let it sit, then scrape again, pushing all that nasty stuff into the hole that leads to the drip tray. You can then slide the grease tray out and give it a good cleaning, too, brushing any debris into the trash. Wipe off any remaining cleaner with a wet paper towel.

If you're having a hard time getting some truly stubborn stuff out of your grill, spray it with some cleaner and get scraping. (Whitson Gordon/)

Finishing up

No matter how much you scrub, your grill will probably never look like it did the day you bought it, and that’s okay. The goal isn’t to get it looking shiny brand-new—your goal is to remove large deposits of grease and charred food that can negatively impact your grill’s performance. Don’t feel like you need to replace your grill just because it has signs of use—consider them a badge of honor!

You may, however, have to replace some components here and there—like, as Kolman mentioned, heat panels that have cracks or holes in them. And if your cast-iron grates are rusted to hell like the ones on the run-down model we cleaned, you can either strip and re-season them, or just grab some new ones—we opted for the latter. (You can replace them with stainless steel if you want something a bit lower-maintenance, though the grilling ability of stainless steel versus iron is a debate all its own.) If your grill’s manufacturer doesn’t sell replacement parts for your particular unit, Grillparts.com is a great resource for tracking down hard-to-find pieces, and third-party vendors such as GrillGrate offer their own cooking surfaces for a variety of grills.

You may also find, once you fire up your grill, that your burners still need some extra love. One of mine was producing a large yellow flame rather than the more desirable small blue flame, which can indicate that it needs to be completely removed and cleaned with a bottle brush (or replaced entirely). Make sure everything is lighting up, too. If you’ve only got fire halfway along the length of the burner, you may have a clogged hole or two that you need to poke through with a pin.

When all the important stuff is done, feel free to clean the stainless steel on the outside as well. “Spray on the cleaner and let it sit for five minutes, because you need time for that cleaner to start to activate,” Kolman says. “Then take your microfiber towel and wipe with the grain.” He notes that you should avoid paper towels on steel, lest you scratch the finish. A porcelain lid is much more forgiving, and you can just use glass cleaner and paper towels for that. Clean any plastic parts with soap and water, and you’re ready for the first burgers of the season.

How to maintain your grill as you go

Don't neglect your grill grate between grillings. (Whitson Gordon/)

After buckling down for a deep clean, you’ve hopefully resolved to not ever let your grill get to such a sorry state again. Thankfully, Kolman has a few tips for making that happen.

“Every month, I think it’s a pretty good rule of thumb to take a look at the inside of the grill and clean up the flavorizer bars and grates,” he says. A bit of occasional scraping with a putty knife will help keep your grill operating at peak performance.

Kolman also recommends brushing the grates before you cook, not after. “Preheat your grill for 10 to 15 minutes, get the grates extremely hot, and any excess debris you have on there is going to get burned off.” Then just brush it away. He says brushing after you cook is more likely to gunk up the bristles of your brush.

These days, many people prefer wooden paddles instead of metal-bristled brushes for those in-between cleanings—that way you don’t get metal bits falling off into your food. America’s Test Kitchen didn’t see any issues with this in their durability tests, but they did find that a bristle-free metal brush like this one was more effective than a wooden paddle.

You should also empty and clean the drip tray regularly, Kolman says. “The more stuff you have down there, the less the grease is getting out, the more chance you have some minor flare-ups.” He says once a month is probably fine for most people, but if you do a lot of grilling, once every two weeks may be better. And for heaven’s sake, keep the grill under a cover when you aren’t using it, to protect it from the elements.

Kolman also recommends checking the gas connections regularly, especially if you’ve gone a few months since you last used your grill. Put a little soapy water around the gas fittings and turn the gas on. If the soap starts to bubble and move around, you’ve got a leak, and you’ll need to replace the component or have a professional check it out.

Other than that, don’t get too concerned about how your grill looks—it’s all about how it performs. Using your grill will naturally change the color and appearance of its interior, and that’s okay. It means you’re putting it to good use. A little maintenance goes a long way, and if you do a quick cleaning of the cookbox once every few months, you won’t have to go quite as hard every time you bring the grill out from its snowy slumber.

[scootoaster]

How to get your grill ready for summer

If you've neglected your grill, a bit of work will have it looking (and cooking) great. (Whitson Gordon/)

Few things are more exciting than that first 60-degree day after a harsh winter, when you can finally break out the grill and… stare in disbelief at the rusty, charred mess in front of you. Before you admit defeat and order pizza, give that grill a good deep cleaning—you’d be surprised what a bit of elbow grease can do.

“People have a tendency to forget how old their grills are, and when the last time they cleaned it was,” says Kevin Kolman, head grillmaster at Weber. Over time, the inside of your grill gets covered with schmutz—a word he assures me is official barbecue terminology—which can result in inconsistent temperatures and a lack of adequate heat. It can also cause minor flare-ups and other performance issues. A quick cleaning once a month can help avoid such problems, but if it’s been a bit longer than that—don’t worry, you aren’t alone—you may want to go a bit deeper.

What you’ll need for your deep clean

The moment you rouse your grill from its winter hibernation is a great time to give it a thorough cleaning, so it’s ready for the season. To do so, you’ll need a few things:

<b>A grill brush.</b> Kolman recommends buying a new grill brush every year. That way, you aren’t using a rusty five-year-old brush every time you fire up the barbie, and you can use last year’s brush for the early-season deep clean without worrying about ruining it. He likes <a href="https://ift.tt/2zIuRfW" target=_blank>Weber’s own 3-sided grill brush</a>—unsurprising since he works for the company—but <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3F0fRAPkn9U" target=_blank>so does America’s Test Kitchen</a>, so that’s what I used for this guide. Whatever you choose, make sure it’s a highly-rated brush from a trusted brand, since some cheaper ones can fall apart or strip the coating off your grates.

<b>A paint scraper.</b> Either <a href="https://ift.tt/2X0hIH9" target=_blank>metal</a> or <a href="https://ift.tt/2WwU4my" target=_blank>plastic</a> should work fine, Kolman says—you just want something with a flat edge that will scrape debris off the inside of your grill.

<b>Grill and grate cleaner.</b> A spray-on grill cleaner isn’t always necessary, but it can help make stubborn, burnt-on food easier to scrape off. I used <a href="https://ift.tt/2T6aIri" target=_blank>this Goo Gone grill cleaner</a>, though <a href="https://ift.tt/3bEER7b" target=_blank>Easy-Off</a> is another popular option, and <a href="https://ift.tt/3cMsbMU" target=_blank>Weber makes its own spray</a>, too.

<b>A scouring pad.</b> A <a href="https://ift.tt/2X3F6DC" target=_blank>mild scrubbing pad</a> will help clean off some of the more stubborn gunk.

<b>Dish soap.</b> You probably already have some in your kitchen—<a href="https://ift.tt/2z3kHGX" target=_blank>any decent dish soap</a> designed to de-grease should work fine.

<b>Stainless steel and/or glass cleaner.</b> If your grill has a porcelain hood, you can clean it with any old glass cleaner and paper towel. For stainless steel hoods and side tables, though, you’ll want a more specialized stainless steel cleaner and polish like <a href="https://ift.tt/2LsRZC1" target=_blank>this spray from Weiman</a>.

<b>A microfiber towel.</b> Again, if you have any stainless steel parts, <a href="https://ift.tt/2zIuYrS" target=_blank>a non-abrasive cloth</a> will help prevent cleaning-related scratches.

Get fired up—let’s do this

Once you have the necessary tools, it’s time to open up your grill and marvel at the disgusting state you left it in. We got our hands on a particularly neglected grill for this demonstration; hopefully yours looks a little better.

If your grill runs on gas, make sure its fuel supply has been turned off at the source—that little knob should always be shut when your grill is not in use—and survey the damage. (If you’re using a charcoal grill, the advice about some components—like burners—obviously won’t be relevant, but the rest of the guide should suit you well. Just follow the parts that apply to you.)

1. Remove the grill grates, along with any heat-dissipating panels and other easily removable parts. Weber grills often have a set of “flavorizer bars” above the burners that you’ll want to remove, for example. These parts may have a decent amount of rust, but as long as they don’t come in direct contact with food, that’s okay. We’ll still give them a good clean, but you aren’t likely to get them back to their original steel shine. “As long as the burners and bars do not have holes or pitted areas, these parts will work just fine,” Kolman says. “Issues occur when they are pitted, have holes and are breaking apart.”

2. Put some of your dish detergent in a large bucket and fill it with warm water. Toss in the grates, heat panels, and flavorizer bars and let them soak for a few minutes. (I didn’t have a bucket big enough to fit everything, so I used the lid to my kid’s old plastic sandbox. Whatever works, right?) If your grates are made of bare cast-iron instead of stainless steel, you don’t want to soak them—it can ruin the seasoning. Leave them aside for now.

3. Get brushing. While the removable parts soak, take your grill brush and give your burner tubes a once-over, making sure there isn’t any debris blocking the holes in the burner. Brush across the tubes, rather than along the length of each one—you don’t want to push debris into the holes as you go, as it can block the flame or clog the burners. Again, don’t worry if these are a little rusty—that’s normal.

Be careful when you brush the burners—you want to clean them, not fill them with gunk. (Whitson Gordon/)

4. Go back to your soapy bucket and give your steel components a good scrub with your scouring pad. If you need a bit of extra cleaning power, spray them with some grill and grate cleaner, let it sit for a moment, then scrub away. Be sure to rinse these parts with clean water when you’re done, then dry them with a rag.

5. Turn your attention to the grill itself. Start by checking the lid. If you see any flakes peeling along the inside, don’t panic: It’s not paint. “Because of the heat or moisture humidity inside there, the smoke has a tendency to bake itself onto the inside of the lid, and it’ll start to sheet itself off,” Kolman says. You can easily take your putty knife or grill brush and scrape away all that carbonized grease. It’s okay if it falls into the cookbox, because we’re about to clean that, too.

6. Check out the cookbox. There’s a good chance you have a lot of grease and food residue in the cookbox along the bottom of your grill. If so, grab a shop vacuum and clear out all the loose debris you can. (If you don’t have one, you can shovel some of it out yourself, but a small, relatively inexpensive shop vac goes a long way.) If there’s any debris caked on the bottom of the cookbox, grab your paint scraper and scrape it off. If it’s really fossilized, spray your grill cleaner, let it sit, then scrape again, pushing all that nasty stuff into the hole that leads to the drip tray. You can then slide the grease tray out and give it a good cleaning, too, brushing any debris into the trash. Wipe off any remaining cleaner with a wet paper towel.

If you're having a hard time getting some truly stubborn stuff out of your grill, spray it with some cleaner and get scraping. (Whitson Gordon/)

Finishing up

No matter how much you scrub, your grill will probably never look like it did the day you bought it, and that’s okay. The goal isn’t to get it looking shiny brand-new—your goal is to remove large deposits of grease and charred food that can negatively impact your grill’s performance. Don’t feel like you need to replace your grill just because it has signs of use—consider them a badge of honor!

You may, however, have to replace some components here and there—like, as Kolman mentioned, heat panels that have cracks or holes in them. And if your cast-iron grates are rusted to hell like the ones on the run-down model we cleaned, you can either strip and re-season them, or just grab some new ones—we opted for the latter. (You can replace them with stainless steel if you want something a bit lower-maintenance, though the grilling ability of stainless steel versus iron is a debate all its own.) If your grill’s manufacturer doesn’t sell replacement parts for your particular unit, Grillparts.com is a great resource for tracking down hard-to-find pieces, and third-party vendors such as GrillGrate offer their own cooking surfaces for a variety of grills.

You may also find, once you fire up your grill, that your burners still need some extra love. One of mine was producing a large yellow flame rather than the more desirable small blue flame, which can indicate that it needs to be completely removed and cleaned with a bottle brush (or replaced entirely). Make sure everything is lighting up, too. If you’ve only got fire halfway along the length of the burner, you may have a clogged hole or two that you need to poke through with a pin.

When all the important stuff is done, feel free to clean the stainless steel on the outside as well. “Spray on the cleaner and let it sit for five minutes, because you need time for that cleaner to start to activate,” Kolman says. “Then take your microfiber towel and wipe with the grain.” He notes that you should avoid paper towels on steel, lest you scratch the finish. A porcelain lid is much more forgiving, and you can just use glass cleaner and paper towels for that. Clean any plastic parts with soap and water, and you’re ready for the first burgers of the season.

How to maintain your grill as you go

Don't neglect your grill grate between grillings. (Whitson Gordon/)

After buckling down for a deep clean, you’ve hopefully resolved to not ever let your grill get to such a sorry state again. Thankfully, Kolman has a few tips for making that happen.

“Every month, I think it’s a pretty good rule of thumb to take a look at the inside of the grill and clean up the flavorizer bars and grates,” he says. A bit of occasional scraping with a putty knife will help keep your grill operating at peak performance.

Kolman also recommends brushing the grates before you cook, not after. “Preheat your grill for 10 to 15 minutes, get the grates extremely hot, and any excess debris you have on there is going to get burned off.” Then just brush it away. He says brushing after you cook is more likely to gunk up the bristles of your brush.

These days, many people prefer wooden paddles instead of metal-bristled brushes for those in-between cleanings—that way you don’t get metal bits falling off into your food. America’s Test Kitchen didn’t see any issues with this in their durability tests, but they did find that a bristle-free metal brush like this one was more effective than a wooden paddle.

You should also empty and clean the drip tray regularly, Kolman says. “The more stuff you have down there, the less the grease is getting out, the more chance you have some minor flare-ups.” He says once a month is probably fine for most people, but if you do a lot of grilling, once every two weeks may be better. And for heaven’s sake, keep the grill under a cover when you aren’t using it, to protect it from the elements.

Kolman also recommends checking the gas connections regularly, especially if you’ve gone a few months since you last used your grill. Put a little soapy water around the gas fittings and turn the gas on. If the soap starts to bubble and move around, you’ve got a leak, and you’ll need to replace the component or have a professional check it out.

Other than that, don’t get too concerned about how your grill looks—it’s all about how it performs. Using your grill will naturally change the color and appearance of its interior, and that’s okay. It means you’re putting it to good use. A little maintenance goes a long way, and if you do a quick cleaning of the cookbox once every few months, you won’t have to go quite as hard every time you bring the grill out from its snowy slumber.

[faithfulcat111]

Just Shapes - Chapter 6

Day 6 (Monday)

“I want to get into the horror movie industry when I get older,” Roman looked over in surprise at Talyn’s statement. They had been quiet since he had arrived, and the sudden statement jarred him. “Horror movies?” Roman asked once he had recovered enough to hold a conversation again. “Yup,” Talyn blew a bubble with the gum they were chewing, continuing when it popped. “I’ve been practising with special effects makeup and reviewing other horror movies for common themes and writing ideas.” “You know, somehow I think you are the kind of person who could make the good kind of horror movies,” Roman said with a smile. “Do you watch horror movies?” Talyn asked. “Sometimes, when my head is on straight,” Roman laughed. To his inner relief, Talyn laughed too. They fell silent for another minute before continuing, “I made a horror movie once.” 

“Really?” Roman asked. “Don’t sound so excited!” Talyn huffed. “It wasn’t any good. I had my little brother help me and I filmed and edited on my phone. It is the most embarrassing thing ever.” “Still,” Roman started. “No,” Talyn cut him off, a note of finality to their voice. “Fine,” Roman sighed, falling back as he did. “In all seriousness, I think you can do it.” “Thanks,” Talyn turned back to give him a small smile. “That means a lot.”

After saying goodbye to Talyn on the roofs, Roman made his way to the Snack Falcon to see what Patton was up too. To his surprise, Patton was calmly flipping through a catalogue, not quivering or shaking like he had been. As Roman walked over, Patton spoke, “I think I can break out of jail.” Roman stopped in surprise, “What was that, Pat?” Patton looked up at him, a contemplating expression on his face. “I think I can break out of jail,” he repeated. “It can’t be that hard, especially if it is county jail. I think I should do it at least once. You know, just for the experience.” “I think that the risk is bigger than any possible reward,” Roman tried, cautiously, also trying to gauge where Patton’s mood actually was at. Patton snorted, muttering quietly enough that Roman almost didn’t hear him, “You sound like Logan.” Roman frowned but continued as if he hadn’t heard, “But, knowing you, if you do end up in jail, you would inevitably break out. You aren’t the kind of person that can be held anywhere against your will for very long.” Patton laughed at that. Roman sighed in relief as the laugh sounded genuine. “I am definitely inevitable,” Patton giggled. “That you are buddy!” Roman grinned. “Are you doing anything tonight?” Patton asked. “Hanging with you, hopefully,” Roman tilted his head, relieved that Patton seemed to want to actually hang out. “Perfect!” Patton jumped over the counter and started towards the door. “Follow me!” “Yes, dear leader!” Roman laughed as he started after Patton. Patton grinned, “I am both a leader and a dear,” and pushed the door open. Patton led Roman over to what looked like a motorized bicycle and handed him a helmet. “Hop on,” Patton said as he fastened his own helmet on. “I found something that can help us get that robot up and working for Logan! I wanna try and have it operational before he gets home tonight.” “What is that thing?” Roman asked, but Patton just gave him a mysterious smirk and started up the bike causing Roman to quickly scramble on behind him. The two made their way out towards the Food Donkey again, but this time continued past it, which made Roman sigh in relief. Just past the Food Donkey, Patton veered off onto a dirt road and then onto a path in a field. They skidded to a stop when they reached a clearing. Roman pulled his helmet off, forgetting to deal with the mess his hair had become due to the helmet as he stared ahead in shock. There, in the middle of the clearing, was an old abandoned care with a tree growing straight out of the middle of it. “What is this thing?” Roman asked, barely remembering to put his helmet down before stepping forward in awe. Patton stepped up beside him, “Beats me. I found it out here about a month ago when exploring on my bike. But it couldn’t have been out here more than twenty years cause that is how old the car is.” At that point, Roman noticed that Patton had a metal bat resting on his shoulder. “What is that for?” “I need the battery and the hood is rusted shut,” Patton smirked again. “So the car must be destroyed. Do you wanna do the honours or shall I?” Roman reached out for the bat, “But do you know for sure that the battery is even in there?” “Nope!” Patton grinned as he took a step back. “All yours, buddy!” Roman grinned, brought the bat up, and stepped forward to start swinging at the car. The car was quickly well dented and the hood finally popped with a good whack to the grill. “Are we sure that it is safe to remove the battery?” Roman asked, looking down into the engine, scanning for the battery. “I don’t see why not,” Patton popped up beside him. “Okay good,” Roman said and reached forward to yank the wires off the battery he had finally spotted that connected the battery to the rest of the car. As soon as he grabbed them, a surge of electricity ran into his body and he screamed as he yanked them off the battery and fell to the ground, blacking out entirely. Roman came to and the whole world around him was slightly hazy. The little shark character that he kept as the background of his laptop was standing in front of him. “Sharkle?” he moaned as he sat up, rubbing at the back of his head. “Yes, Roman,” Sharkle responded in a surprisingly deep, echoing voice. “It is I.” “Sharkle, what happened?” Roman moaned, his head throbbing. “You did as you always do. What you have been told repeatedly by your parents, your grandfather, your teachers, and your therapist not to do. You jumped in without thinking,” Sharkle answered. “Oh,” Roman’s hand that had been rubbing at his head dropped into his lap as he slowly started recalling what had happened. “Guess that wasn’t the smartest move.” “No, now Roman. You need to get up,” Sharkle’s voice started morphing, becoming higher pitched and more panicked. “What?” Roman looked up at Sharkle, squinting as the world around him began to blur around him and more colours started to leak into his vision. “Get up! Please Roman! Get up!” Sharkle’s body slowly started morphing and as Roman blinked a few times to try and clear his vision, he realized who Sharkle really was. “Come on buddy!” Patton was crouched in front of him, his hands on both sides of Roman’s face. “We gotta get up!” Roman pushed Patton’s hands off of him and slowly got to his feet. “I’m fine, Pat,” he said in a very not fine voice, his voice cracking just a tad. Patton huffed, “You didn’t seem fine just a moment ago when you were babbling at nothing.” He turned and stormed back to the car. Roman rubbed at his eyes, trying to rub the last of the haziness from his vision. He barely noticed that Patton had yanked the battery from the car and heaved it past him to put it in the basket of the bike. “We will have to leave the bat behind, but that is okay because you practically destroyed it anyway,” Patton muttered as he plopped his helmet back onto his own head. “Yeah, okay,” Roman slurred, still slightly thrown from the whole incident. He stared down at the baseball bat lying on the ground, watching it slowly break apart. He only stopped when Patton came over to shove Roman’s helmet into his hands with a loud, “Come on!” Back at Patton and Logan’s apartment, Patton and Roman made quick work of assembling the pieces of the animatronic that were still sitting in its box where the two had left it the day before. They had no instructions and the end result looked nothing like Roman remembered from his childhood memories. But it was worth it to hear Patton giggle and chat about nothing like Roman could remember him doing when they would work on school work back in high school both at school and in Roman’s bedroom. “Okay, so all that is left is hooking up the battery so that it will move and talk,” Patton heaved the battery over to the back of the torso of the creature, where the panel was open. “Do you want to do the honours?” “Not really,” Roman admitted. “Are you sure we should even hook this up? I mean, who knows how long the battery was out there.” Patton huffed, “Are you going to be boring now cause you died for like five seconds?” “Dude,” Roman raised an eyebrow, Patton’s sudden mood changes all evening, throwing him for a loop. “I’ll just do it,” Patton started to reach in to grab the cables at the back of the machine, but Roman quickly snatched them first. “No, I’d rather it be me than you.” And before Patton could protest, Roman hooked the cables to the battery and immediately, it all went wrong. A surge of electricity travelled through the cables, causing the machine to go wild, head spinning and arms waving, sparks coming from the control panel. But before Roman could process any of this, his hand slipped, and he touched the metal that was connecting the battery to the machine and got hit with another jolt of electricity. He fell over backwards, seizing on the floor from the second electrocution he had experience in as many hours. He could hear screaming in the background that he could only assume was Patton panicking as everything went nuts. Then Roman, through his still hazy view of the world that was causing everything to be blurred and muffled, could see the door to the apartment open and a pair of worn tennis shoes with frayed jeans enter his line of vision. “What the hell?” Roman leaned his head back as the jolting stopped to see Logan’s face appeared above him, his expression a mix of shock, worry, and maybe a bit of frustration. Roman shook his head and moaned, “I’m just going to lay here for a while if that’s okay.” “Okay, Ro,” Logan stepped out of his line of sight and the screaming turned to squealing soon after, which Roman figured to mean that Logan had found Patton. “What do you think of my present for you, Lo?” Roman heard Patton say as the two reentered the room soon afterwards. Roman pushed himself up in order to view Logan’s reaction to the gift the two of them had worked on. “It is something,” Logan said, biting his lip, but otherwise his face betrayed no emotions. Patton stared up at him for a moment before asking, “How was your family’s?” “It was something,” this time Logan’s eye flicked over to Roman, his face remaining as blank as before. Patton’s eyes followed Logan’s and Roman quickly realized what the two were silently asking. He pushed himself to his feet and said, still slightly shaky, “I got to head out guys. Thank you for having me.” “Are you sure? We can help you get home,” Patton said. Roman waved him off, recognizing the fact that Patton was just being nice right now, “Nope, I got this. See you guys later.” And he grabbed his jacket and started home, wondering and worrying about his friends. Roman shivered in the cold air, watching the sun dip below the horizon as the world settled into twilight. The hairs on his arm stood up as he could still feel the tingle of electricity coursing through his body. Electrocution was certainly something he never wanted to experience again. Roman had almost made it out of downtown when he glanced in the shop window to his left. There, still working hard, was Virgil behind the counter of the Ol’ Pickaxe. Roman stopped, made a quick decision, and backtracked to enter the shop. Virgil looked up in slight surprise at seeing Roman enter before going back to sorting nails behind the register, “What are you doing here?” “Visiting you,” Roman said, leaning forward on the counter. “What are you doing?” “Some snot-nosed kid decided it would be fun to knock several containers of nails onto the ground this morning. I had to clean it up and sort them in between everything else I had to do today because my other employees aren’t worth anything,” Virgil’s voice was very tired, losing that monotone he seemed to adopt with every word. “You’ve been working on that since this morning?” Roman asked in awe. “Yup,” Virgil reached into the bucket that he had been pulling nails out of but furrowed his eyebrows as he looked in to see that it was empty. “Oh! You’re finally done! Wanna hang out?” Roman asked in excitement. Virgil looked up at him with that annoyingly blank expression, “I got work.” “Not for long! Your store closes in five minutes,” Roman pointed towards the door where the hours were posted. “Yes, but I have to close down the store and then I start the second part of my evening, house calls,” Virgil picked up the containers of nails, shoving one in Roman’s arms and started back into the aisles. “Ugh!” Roman groaned before following him. “What is even the point?” “Paychecks. Food. Rent,” Virgil said, placing the containers back in their spots. He turned and grabbed the container out of Roman’s arms, “Wanna come with?” Roman faltered slightly, glad Virgil had grabbed the container because he was pretty sure he would have dropped it, “You want me to come with you?” “You offered to be free labour,” Virgil pointed out, walking back to the front of the store. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, which Roman couldn’t understand how because it looked like he was wearing skinny jeans, and locked the front door. He turned back to Roman, “Help me shut down and we can go.” Shutting down turned out to be Roman sweeping the floor while Virgil counted the money in the register and then wiped down the counter while Roman was still riding the push broom through the aisles. Virgil finally just took it away from him and they set off in the car, heading out of town to the countryside. They finally turned down a long, dirt driveway, stopping about thirty feet away from a trailer house. Virgil snuffed out his cigarette and they both got out of the car. “So what am I doing?” Roman asked, cracking his knuckles as he bounded up beside Virgil. “You’re back up,” Virgil said. “I’ve had issues with this lady before.” “Oooh, I have never been backup before,” Roman started skipping, way too excited for what they were actually doing. Virgil just rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well, don’t get shot.” Roman stopped suddenly at that, “Buck season is not for a few days, right?” “People get impatient,” Virgil continued walking towards the house. “For murder?” Roman quickly ran forward to catch up with Virgil, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Not murder if it’s animals,” Virgil sounded thoroughly unimpressed, stepping up onto the porch. “That’s dark, dude,” Roman said, following him up. Virgil just rolled his eyes and knocked on the door. It was soon opened by an ancient looking lady. “Hello Mrs. Pacelli,” he greeted, a pained smile on his face. “You’re finally here. My furnace has been broken for a week now and I am not pleased Mr. Alighieri. You promised quick and reliable service!” the woman snapped in way of a greeting. “Ma’am, I did send a guy to fix your furnace. He claims that he was locked in your basement. I couldn’t get ahold of him all evening,” Virgil’s voice remained calm, which was slightly surprising to Roman. Mrs. Pacelli huffed, “A likely story! I smelled alcohol on him, I’m telling you!” Virgil just gave her a small smile, “Okay Mrs. Pacelli. I’m here now.” Mrs. Pacelli huffed again, “Stupid young people like you and that young man, always coming along and ruining my life. Taking my husband away from me. ‘Had complaints about the smell.’ He didn’t smell I made sure of it.” Suddenly, the lady noticed Roman was standing there too. “Who is this?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “This is Roman. He is here to help me,” Virgil explained. Roman looked over at him, surprised that he was somehow remaining so calm. “Okay, fine. Stupid little rascals.” By some miracle, the lady finally stepped aside and let them in, leading them to the basement. “Now, Mrs. Pacelli, we’ll fix up your furnace. Please don’t lock us in,” Virgil said, before stepping down, Roman quickly scrambling after him. “I won’t!” the woman snapped back before slamming the door shut behind both of them. “Wow, she is quite the character,” Roman finally muttered as the two reached the bottom. “That she is. Her husband that she was talking about. They took him away cause he was dead. She was trying to preserve him in her living room,” Virgil said as he walked over to an ancient looking machine in the middle of the room. Roman just stopped in shock, “Holy stars.” Virgil turned back to him, the dim lighting of the basement giving him a much more eerie look. “Look, I’m going to fix the furnace. You stay there.” “Roger,” Roman gave him a mock salute and Virgil disappeared behind the furnace before he revealed that his other hand had crossed fingers. “Nope, I’m going to explore.” Roman turned and headed in the opposite direction of the furnace, weaving between the scattered boxes, ignoring a wooden bat as he set off to see what other secrets that this woman had hidden away. “Let’s see, we have a rusted fan. Honestly, she could have sold this,” Roman commented. “Hmmm, a box full of tie cables. Why would anyone need this many tie cables? Ever? But no hidden photo albums, no dead bodies, no good stuff! Although, I suppose she did already get in trouble for having a dead body. Kind of deters you to keep another.” Roman’s eyes locked onto a shelf full of cans with murky liquid. “What is this? A failed canning attempt? I thought all old ladies could can,” Roman muttered as he stepped over two rusted tricycles to get closer. They stank slightly, almost like acid, as he leaned closer to try and see what they were. It was hard to tell, but there were objects in those jars that didn’t look like salsa or jam. His eyes suddenly widened as he realized what they were, something he had actually seen in a college anatomy class, and stumbled backwards, falling over the tricycles. Roman let out a slight screech as he hit the floor and took off running towards the light of the furnace. Virgil poked his head around the back as Roman scrambled back out of the dark, his eyes wide, but they quickly narrowed, “You’re almost as pale as me. What happened? I thought I told you to stay up here.” Roman shook his head, “That pale foundation defies physics, Virgil. I’ll never be as pale as you.” He nervously looked back towards the dark he had come from while Virgil scoffed. “Seriously, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Virgil said. “How much longer until you are done?” Roman turned back towards Virgil, hiding his still shaking hands behind him as he struggled to keep his breathing steady. Virgil sighed, “Almost there.” He disappeared once again, there was a loud clang, and he finally stepped out as the furnace shuddered to life. Roman clapped his hands over his ears at the loud bangs and clangs now coming from the furnace, “Man! That thing is loud!” “Yup!” Virgil yelled back. “Let’s go.” Virgil started up the stairs with Roman close behind him, but suddenly cursed when he reached the top. “She locked us in!” Roman dropped his hands from his ears, “What are we going to do?” Virgil started banging on the door, calling out for Mrs. Pacelli, but Roman took a step back down, saying to himself, “She’ll never hear him over the sound of the furnace.” Roman turned towards the furnace and then his eyes drifted over to the wooden bat just visible under the stairs. He went back down, grabbed the bat, and swung. Next thing Roman knew, the furnace was back out of commission, the bat in splinters and falling from Roman’s hand. “Holy shit,” Roman could hear Virgil behind him and then he gasped as the basement door opened. “What is going on down here?” Mrs. Pacelli screeched. “You locked us in,” Roman felt his arm being grabbed and he blindly followed who he was sure had to be Virgil. “How about I don’t charge you for my time and don’t call the police to inform them about what is down there and you don’t come asking for my services ever again?” Without waiting for a response, or none that Roman could process, the two were back outside on the front porch. Roman looked up at Virgil whose whole professional demeanour just melted away and he all but fell down onto the porch steps, looking utterly exhausted. “Thank you,” Roman muttered, just loud enough for Virgil to hear. Roman thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Virgil’s face, but it was quickly gone as Virgil pulled his legs close to his chest and muttered, “I’m just so tired, Roman. Of everything.” Roman looked out into the now night sky, at the flickering lightning bugs dancing around the front yard of the trailer house. He looked back down at his friend and a smile came to his face. “You know what you need? You need magical stuff to give you a new perspective!” he declared. Virgil snorted, “Good luck with that.” Roman just grinned and ran out into the yard, running through as many of the lightning bugs as he could find. As he expected, they started gravitating towards him, until, when he ran back to Virgil, there were about thirty just buzzing all around him. Virgil stared at him, the light of the lightning bugs flickering lights reflected in his wide eyes. “How did you do that?” his voice betraying a sense of awe. Roman shrugged, “I don’t know. Ever since I was little, I could just attract them like this.” Virgil hid his growing smile behind his knees and mumbled, “You are an interesting person, Roman Sanders.” “I’m not as interesting as that lady,” Roman pointed to the house behind Virgil. “She mummified a dude.” Virgil snorted again and changed the subject, “That you for getting us out of that basement. You should channel that aggression into something useful.” “Eh, my doctor said to repress it,” Roman said, looking over towards Virgil’s car. Virgil stared at him with that annoyingly blank look again, before finally saying, “Let’s head home.”

Roman stood on top of a building, it’s roof tilted at an almost twenty-degree angle. He could see something running between the crooked buildings and weaving streets and stepped forward in curiosity. But when he stepped forward, he was suddenly met with just air and found himself very slowly falling, as if sinking in molasses rather than air. Somehow, Roman managed to land on his feet on another building. He looked around to see that this building was attached off the side of the previous building and he carefully walked forward to see another building just below him by about ten feet. He looked up to see the light of the mysterious creature weaving around and then jumped down to the next building. No fear went through him when he missed and he continued falling until he landed in a heap on the sidewalk. Roman slowly pushed himself back to his feet and looked up to see the creature round a corner and set its beady red eyes on him. It was some sort of giant squirrel and it started running towards him, moving slightly faster than the rest of the world. Roman turned to try and run, but he could hear the squirrel get closer as it could run faster. But just when he could feel it’s hot breath on the back of his neck, Roman looked down to see himself dissolving into white dust and then, nothing.