#i feel like this is very fitting for spoopy month

[fujitasoup]

drew my five favs as each other 🫶

[clarktooncrossing]

DUDELZ of the Damned | Pizza Fairies and Ice Cream Pirates

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

A chill is in the air. You can feel it can't you? Perhaps you even recognize it. That same chill arrives every year right on the dot. With it comes a frightful howl in the moonlight, the only other sound to be heard. Otherwise there is a strange calmness settling around you, like the point of ease before the storm. By now the howling has stopped. It has been replaced by a different sound. Footsteps. Big, heavy, dragging, as if the figure didn't quite know how to use their legs. Perhaps it's a random passerby. Perhaps it's a rotting, frightful feature freshly risen from the grave. Perhaps it's some other, unspeakable horror waiting to pounce! Whatever it is, you're not waiting around to find out! Yet no matter how far you run, it can't be escaped. The chill in the air, the howling of the wind, the heavy footsteps, it all leads back to one thing: October is here! And with it comes the return of the DUDELZ of the Damned!

Yes weirdos, like last year, my approximation of Sketchtober has returned. I call it an proxy because there was no list of prompts. Nah, that'd be too limiting. This is yet another case where I compiled my own list of ideas, sketched them out, then used one color per picture. With all that said, let's see what spoopy scribblings await us today!

When speaking of the deadliest pirates plundering across the Seven Seas, Captain Neapolitan ranks high amongst the rest. Don't be fooled by her seemingly sweet demeanor, one wrong word and she'd throw your carcass overboard. Or at least she would before she stumbled across a peculiar island. For this was the Isle of the Fairies, home to one Pizza Fairy. Upon meeting the pirate he offered her fame and fortune surpassing even her wildest dreams. In exchange he only asked for one thing: flesh. Specifically the flesh of people, cooked to temperature and piled atop melty cheese. He was oddly specific like that. Not that the buccaneer minded. She agreed to the terms, the oceans soon running red with blood. The fairy was kept well fed. And true to his word, Neo's hull was filled with gold! Many tried to take her down over the decades, but none prevailed. Legend says she still roams the high seas to this very day in search of more food for her friend.

Either that or Pizza Monster and Villa wanted to switch things up from last year.

Let it be known that I never sketch these DUDELZ with these dark, twisted, sinister backstories in mind. Nah, I make these all up when typing these descriptions. I figured it'd fit the spooky month and give me a chance to show off my more macabre storytelling skills. Either way, yeah, this pic was meant to contrast with last year's Pizzabeard and Ice Cream Fairy sketches. Pizza Monster you all should know, but Villa the Ice Cream monster was created by my friend Fantasynarium, who sadly no longer posts art online. Villa was meant to be a love interest for Pizza, since what pairs better with ice cream than pizza? Admittedly I haven't used the character as much as I should over the years, but I plan on fixing that! For now though, I hope you all enjoy this silly little sketch. And remember: be considerate to those with differing diets. Unless they eat people.

BONUS QUESTION: Do you prefer pirates or fairies?

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

[pomrania]

Okay, so I should write stuff about what I’m planning to do this month, for art. It’s not going to start today or tomorrow, but yeah.

First off, it���d be for mutuals and half-mutuals. “Half-mutual” is a term I came up with, because I didn’t know of any other term, and it just seemed to fit. It’s for when you follow my blog, and I follow your sideblog. (Or the other way around, but I don’t have sideblogs that people follow, so that wouldn’t apply to me.) I know there’s at least two different half-mutuals I have, one where I follow their cat blog and another where I follow their art blog; there may be more, even ones that are regularly active, but this is just off the top of my head.

I’m limiting it to mutuals and half-mutuals because I don’t think I could handle it unlimited; therefore, it logically follows that I think I CAN handle it with the given limitations. Which leads back into the perennial problem of people going “I don’t want to impose” or “I don’t want to give you extra work” or “I want other people to have a chance”. STOP WITH THAT.

Let’s take it in order. “I don’t want to impose.” If I’m asking you to give me something, and you give me the thing that I ask for, that is like, the exact opposite of “imposing”.

“I don’t want to give you extra work.” I’m not on salary. I’m not some minimum-wage employee getting paid the same amount regardless of how much I do or have to do. Heck, I’m not getting paid at ALL for this; it’s something I do because I WANT to do it. And if I feel like I can’t finish all of a thing in one day, you know what I do? I carry it over to the NEXT day.

“I want other people to have a chance.” This is actually a valid concern, but don’t worry, I have a system for dealing with that, and it’s worked very well in the past. Basically, you can only make a second (or third, fourth, etc) request once your first request has been done and posted; and that new request goes to the bottom of the list, like all new requests. I can explain it in more detail if needed -- either because you don’t get what I’m saying (totally possible) or because you don’t see how it solves the problem -- but it boils down to that the only way someone can monopolize stuff, is if nobody else makes a request.

If you keep following me, you’re prolly going to see the above stuff a LOT, as it keeps being a problem for every damn request-based art event I do. So like, just trust that I know what I’m doing, and I’m capable of making my own choices, and don’t try to make those choices for me.

Okay, rant over, what’s the other stuff I’ll need to talk about....

Subject matter. It’s “drawing pets as monsters”. Last year I got a lot of “vampire” requests, and I don’t know whether that’s because I put ‘vampire’ in the list of examples, or if people just really want to see their critters as vampires. I’d rather not, in general. Mostly because there’s only so many different ways to represent “vampire” and it can get boring after a while. I mean, I’m not OPPOSED to drawing critters as vampires, but I’d prefer that either a) it’s something you really want, as in “oh boy I can’t wait to see this critter as a vampire”, or b) you give me something more descriptive than just “vampire”; doesn’t have to be a vampire from a specific folklore or anything, “cute little vampire like you’d see on spoopy decorations” or “monstrous blood-sucker” would also work quite well for purposes.

Duration. Uhhh I have no idea; I think I’ll start with requests open for a week, and then see how that goes. And I’ll have to remember to put that in the post too; that it might be open for just a week, and it might end up as more than a week, I don’t know.

OH something else I need to make sure everyone knows, although I might not need to put it in the post itself. That once requests close, that does not mean that the EVENT closes; I’ll still be drawing requests that came in. This is something that people keep getting wrong and worrying about; is there a better way of phrasing it, that’ll be easily understood?

Also, my normal rules wrt the definition of “pet” will still apply; that is, a critter you have some type of connection to, past or present, and you can give me their name. The “name” thing is important because that’s what I do for file names, so without a name I can’t get past super-rough sketching (because I’m only going to put actual effort into a piece once I’ve saved it, which I can’t do without something to name the file, and I refuse to depart from my naming scheme).

[kazucee]

Since it's October! Have some fluffy autumn Solangelo hcs.

Will definitely has painted Nico's usually black nails, a more autumn color (eg. Maroon, orange etc.)

Since it's usually chilly the two of them grow their hairs slightly longer (Nico's is enough to be put into a tiny bun and Wills is long enough, but since his hair is curly it still looks similar-ish to how it usually is)

They have this tradition of rereading the entire Harry Potter series every start of autumn.

Both of them jumping into every leaf pile they see. Leaves everywhere and they're laughing, one on top of the other.

Wills the type to buy those long scarfs that can fit two people (yes they wear it sometimes)

Hot chocolate and coffee almost everyday.

Autumn makes Nico loosen up more.

They both do bike rides together just enjoying the way the pretty leafs fall

Will likes looking into Nico's dark eyes even more now, because believe it or not his eyes show a reflection of the autumn leaves (so it looks dark redish and orange-y)

Girl in red and Taylor swift on loop in their shared playlist everyday.

They both have an addiction to scented candles, and it doubles even more when it's autumn.

Spoopy month! And every time Will manages to get Nico into a dumb costume.

Nick dragging Will to a pumpkin patch, where they both can carve pumpkins (Nico carved a sun, Will tried to carve Nico—it was horrendous but Nico treasures it very much)

They both took up pottery on a whim. And made each other mugs.

It's the season where Will calls Nico 'pumkin' for the cringe and for the pissing him off.

Dancing in the rain

Having Hot alphabet soup together cuz they got sick.

Decorating for Halloween and autumn all together, they take decorating very seriously.

They make cinnabons to give to some of their close friends.

Every autumn season Will collects a leaf from the ground and laminates it.

Nico having a camera with him everytime because Will looks ethereal under the autumn light.

Beanies.

Will tries to grow pumpkins and fails miserably.

Cemetery hangouts (idk why, I feel like they would do this, with respects to the dead of course.)

Nico wears mittens cuz it's cold

Will doesn't like the mittens cause he can't hold Nico's hand properly, but he doesn't want Nico to feel cold. Solution?

Will removes one of the mittens from Nico's hand earning a 'oi what the hell' look, but the warmth the mitten gave is replaced quickly by Will sliding his hand into his and slipping both their hands inside his coat pocket.

[weilongfu]

Happy belated birthday! And again, congrats for a successful defense! I'm sending my prompt for the spam weekend early this time because I don't want to miss the window. Problem is I'm not really inspired. Mmmhh... Seeing as you share your birthday with Tang Yi and Halloween is just around the corner, why not the History3: Trapped guys involved in some spoopy supernatural adventures that may turn out not so supernatural in the end? Thank you for doing this!

Just clearing out prompts from last prompt spam. Please don’t send new ones!

Also... miiiiight just be inspired by the PeteKao episode of OurSkyy

------

Tang Yi critically looked at the list Meng Shaofei had placed in front of him. On it, ten tasks were clearly outlined. Some were benign, many spiritual sounding, and the rest were absurd.

“And who told you to do this?” Tang Yi asked as he held up the list as if it was diseased.

“Ah Yi,” Meng Shaofei whined. “It’s for you!”

“What?”

“Now that you’ve come out of prison, we should cleanse your spirit, dispel any remaining bad luck and evil, and let you start again fresh.” Tang Yi simply continued to stare down Meng Shaofei with a stony expression. “Ah Yi! I went to a very good fortune teller just for you! She wrote down this list for me! What’s the harm in just trying?”

“The harm is to my self-respect.”

“Ah Yi...” Tang Yi took in the way that Meng Shaofei widened his eyes and jut out his bottom lip. 

“You’re a grown man, stop pouting like a child.” 

Meng Shaofei rolled his eyes, and this time put his arms around Tang Yi’s neck. “Pleaaaaase, Tang Yi?”

Even though it had been a few months since his release from prison, Tang Yi had still not reacclimated to the warmth and weight of Meng Shaofei leaning on him. He’d missed it far too much and his annoying boyfriend knew it.

“...Fine.”

------

With Meng Shaofei at his side, Tang Yi visited temples, bought plants and planted them in his yard himself. They went to a specific restaurant which Tang Yi noted had a very particular name and ordered very particular dishes which were supposed to have the good luck effect Meng Shaofei desired. 

(And if Tang Yi caught sight of a familiar head of dyed red hair, he didn’t say anything about it.)

After their “lucky” lunch, they went shopping to buy a matching lucky outfit set to wear the color that Meng Shaofei had been told would be the best for their purposes that day. Tang Yi swore up and down that the only reason he agreed to wear the ridiculous t-shirt Meng Shaofei chose was to keep him quiet, but Meng Shaofei had seen Tang Yi quietly admiring the cut and fit so it was moot. 

It was when Meng Shaofei said that the next task was ordering bubble tea from a particular store at the mall that Tang Yi finally put a stop to the nonsense.

“Since when is bubble tea from a shop we’ve been to several times before lucky?” Tang Yi asked as he refused to take one more step into the shop.

“Tang Yi! We’re almost done! Just share a drink with me!”

“Meng. Shao. Fei.”

Meng Shaofei huffed and drooped. “Please?” Tang Yi raised his eyebrow and Meng Shaofei offered him his supposed list. 

“This is your awful handwriting.” Tang Yi shoved the list back in Meng Shaofei’s pocket, ignoring his yelp of surprise. “Was any of this even supposed to be lucky or spiritual at all?”

“Well the first parts yeah...” Meng Shaofei reached for Tang Yi’s hand and was not denied, so he continued while squeezing Tang Yi’s hand. “But... Tang Yi... It’s been months since you came home. You haven’t gone out except for business. You send assistants or me for groceries. You won’t even come with me to go out for a date.”

“I told you , I’m just trying to stabilize the corporation-”

“It’s stable. Zuo Hongye has done very well with Gu Daoyi.”

“I have to re-establish-”

“You’re still CEO and everyone respects you plenty.”

“Meng Shaofei! Don’t you-”

“I’m... I’m not trying to invalidate how you feel.” Meng Shaofei stepped closer. “I just want you to get outside again. To go somewhere with you again.” 

Meng Shaofei moved to let go of Tang Yi’s hand, but Tang Yi’s grip suddenly strengthened. “Shaofei...”

“There he is...” Meng Shaofei smiled and cupped Tang Yi’s cheek. “There’s my Ah Yi.” Tang Yi rolled his eyes, but he remained in Meng Shaofei’s hold. “I know I pushed you a lot today. So, thank you. If you don’t want to finish the list, we can just go home and I won’t bother you for the rest of the day.”

Tang Yi took a deep breath and sighed. “Go order tea for us and then we’ll go watch that movie you had written on your list.”

Meng Shaofei smiled and kissed Tang Yi’s cheek before running into the shop so there was as little time as possible for Tang Yi to change his mind.

[sootygoggles]

Parent!Paranoia Sanders Sides AU!

No explanation, but I'll probably give the backstory later. For now: memes of Paranoia being an A-class parent and a chaos gremlin. (okay it started as memes but then just ended up as fleshing the AU out)

~~

Paranoia, worried abt his kids: I'm uhhhh gonna go to my room see ya later light sides

Paranoia, sneaking back into the subconscious to check on his now teenaged children: I'm gonna leave duke a r a t that I found and thought looked cool

Duke, waking up the next morning and yelling for 'Nesty bc "HOLY CRAP NESTY LOOK AT THIS RAT ISN'T SHE ADORABLE I WANNA HANG HER ON THE WALL": !!!!!!!!!!

~~

Paranoia gets a habit of sitting on the fridge because his children were wild as kids and sometimes duke comin at you with a knife warrants jumping onto counters

~~

Nesty, who doesnt get paid to deal with duke: I'm raiding dads liquor cabinet it's my due for putting up with this

Paranoia, physically manifesting: put the key to the liquor cabinet D O W N, Honesty

~~

The lights are confused as to why he disappears at random times of the day and night and he just "leave me TF alone before I leave you a goshdarn diddly P R E S E N T while youre sleeping I'm tired"

~~

patton: my child! my dark strange son!!

paranoia, who has children: ,,,,yea ok

~~

Patton ticks him off so he leaves a big halloween decor spider on his bed and nobody sleeps for weeks after that bc pattons too scared to touch it and paranoia maybeperhaps glued it onto his cover

~~

He's like one of those people you know might mean well but ooooooo boy theyre pushin buttons

~~

Paranoia, whos fav animal/insect is spiders and whose children have tarantulas and snakes on the regular: hes not even realistic!! You need to learn to get along with mr sparkles patton!! look at him. he's fluffy!

~~

He has googly eyes and glitter on him at all times of course hes named mr sparkles

~~

paranoia gets to be a little petty. as a treat

~~

Paranoia just carries bags of glitter around and whenever mr sparkles gets duller he takes mr sparkles to the kitchen counter and he dumps glitter on him

Logan and patton are tired of cleaning up bc paranoias just petty enough to make their counters eternally sparkly

~~

"why is there glitter all over the kitchen?"

paranoia, holding mr sparkles: :)

~~

Paranoia, after AA: I hate purple but they dont know that now do they

Paranoia is actually orange the last side is purple lol

~~

Chaos Gremlin dark sides and nobody is surprised bc paranoia raised them

~~

paranoia, going back to see his teen children after acting like a teen all day: what is up, fellow kids

honesty: i am going to lose it

~~

Wrath, coming to yell at them to keep it down: why are you purple I'm purple

Paranoia, cackling bc finally I can get out of this horrible color: *snaps fingers * I'M PARANOIA MOTHERTRUCKERS HAVE FUUUNNNNN I'M GONNA BE MAKING YOUR LIVES LIVING HELL FROM THIS POINT FORWARDS

~~

duke and nesty, pumped for halloween bc u l t i m a t e s p o o k: :D

paranoia, coming out in a traffic cone costume with a shit eating grin on his face: :D

~~

Paranoia, decorating for halloween bc "oh I'm sorry it's just the *sniffles * homesickness and we a l w a y s decorated for halloween" knowing full well all of his decorations are spider and witch themed bc they all like the salem witch trials

~~

He leaves ONE fake snake in romans cereal and the lights just. Lose it. Hes kicked back into the subconscious to be chaotic with his kids, no new side, just the hours upon hours of film hes gotten from the bugs hed placed around the unconscious and a plan for the next several movie nights

He gets back and honesty is w h e e z i n g bc he was watching through the cracks and they make a fail compilation of the light sides

It takes like two months for the lights to just go insane with him around not due to yknow paranoia but bc hes such a gremlin

~~

Patton asks if he was raised by wolves and he shoves mr sparkles at patton saying "take the issue of how I was raised up with my father, a-hole!!"

He doesnt actually curse he just yells "A-HOLE" so loud his kids can hear

~~

They dont find out he's a dad until hes summoned and hes making cookies or smt with the kids and hes in a bright orange stereotypical witch outfit,,, corset and all and an apron that says "worlds most chaotic dad" on the front

And hes talking to one of the kids like "duke you can only put dish soap in your batch nesty cant digest it like you can"

~~

Patton has an apron that says worlds least chaotic 'dad' courtesy of paranoia he made it himself(read: he stole pattons good apron and scribbled over it in sharpie)

~~

Paranoia is always close to cackling when around the lights bc theyre newbs to any chaos

~~

Roman and remus are twins but roman is the kind of kid to promptly forget abt anyone and logan n patton knew remus less than a day before he "disappeared" aka ran to the subconscious to explore and theyve just kinda blocked him out

~~

Logans fine with it and actually likes the decorations tho he has asked if they had to be so brightly coloured and if there had to be so much glitter

I say decorations but hes a secret gremlin at heart and is super close to snickering at all times bc of the pranks

~~

Also yes paranoia mildly dads roman it's great but he dads in an older sibling type way

~~

So pat and logan are all "hes fitting in as an older brother well" and they tell him abt their approval of his older brother chaos and hes just like "no this is how I am deal with it nothing to do with brothers" bc hes not telling them abt his kids he doesnt trust them

~~

Hes up at like midnight complaining with logan abt how patton doesnt let him be full chaos gremlin and logan says "mmmhmm did your parents in the dark side let you go wild with the chaos" and paranoia just,,,,, looks at him, dead in the eyes, and says "I dont have parents"

Cue logan being confusion

Paranoia, who genuinely didn't have parents: my parents are mr sparkles and the cat we've had for my entire life

Logan, who doesnt know they had a cat and is now worried bc "are you taking care of it???": ???

Paranoia: it's great for keeping the Others in line tho I just say "do your chores or no snuggle time with ms peregrin" and they do their chores while I'm making dinner

logan, incredibly confused: i don't know what you mean but ok

Paranoia: yeah theyre dumb but it's the level of dumb youd expect from my idiots

~~

Or he slips up and refers to them as his children/kids and logan, not realizing they have an Actual Father/Sons relationship/age difference(paranoias abt.late 20s early 30s, remus defies all logic and has been about 9-10 for a few years now, and dees like early teens) just says "huh how.interesting would it be to have to deal with people your age that immature" and paranoias just. "Y e a h t h e y r e t o t a l l y t h e s a m e a g e a s I a m"

~~

Duke is very much baby and upon seeing duke eating glue paranoia and honesty the idiots decided to try it too

theyre so dumb dsdhdhdhjsdh

They AREEE and paranoia, after discovering that duke has the h a r d i e s t immune system they decide to test exactly what he can and cannot safely eat bc he may be dumb but hes also def a Dad and he just wants to take care of his kids and if that includes making sure that duke can safely consume toilet bleach then so be it

Duke can eat almost anything short of actual cyanide but cyanide just makes him sick like stomach bug sick

He somehow gets a fever,,,,, he has it for like half an hour and paranoia is amazed

Hes in bed,,,,, paranoia makes him soup,,,,,, hes all better and running around again

~~

Paranoias parenting rules:

Dont murder your brothers pls

Do your chores or no snuggle time with ms peregrin

Glitter is always a yes

Insults are fine just make sure you dont overstep and make your brothers insecure

all of them are printed and then the last one is scrawled at the bottom in

If you get sick, tell him immediately bc he will find out and he will be the most obsessive parent to make sure you feel better ASAP

If your pronouns/name/function change, tell him immediately, he'll make sure you dont feel uncomfortable as well as he can

Duke dont put dish soap in honestys baked goods you know he cant digest it

It's a nice system for making chaos but keeping it manageable

They're all printed then the last one's scrawled in glitter gel pen and duke wrote a reply that said (I'm sorry yall dont have as good an immune system as I do)

There was a whole passive aggressive arguement on the bulletin for the next week before it got taken down to make room for dukes art

They eventually started just putting them up over each other and using magnets instead of thumbtacks

The entire bottom portion of the walls are painted in chalkboard paint so theres no unerasable drawing on the walls and the rest of the paint is magnetic so they can hang pieces everywhere

Dukes improving rapidly tho and doesnt like looking at his old art all the time so paranoia holds onto the drawings in several filing cabinets in case he ever wants to do redraws or needs his original prints to make something in the Imagination

also bc,,, sentimental

jus a little

Yeah bc "yes my child draws nothing but blood gore and new animals but hes a creative genius and I love all of his art"

~~

Roman: anxiety I can see why you left

Paranoia: ??? What?? It's spoopy season??

Roman: there was BLOOD on the WALLS

Paranoia, internally: oh!!!! Duke perfected his blood recipe!!!!

Paranoia, externally: how did it taste?

Roman: WHO TASTES THE BLOOD ON THE WALLS?!?!

Paranoia: if it tasted like lemons or citrus you need to stay off of most foods, stick to crackers and broth- don't eat anything heavy until you're sure you wont throw it up

Patton, who was making cereal: ????

~~

Also!!!! @iliveinprocrasti-nation Thanks for helping me flesh this AU out!!!

[seven-oomen]

Happy Halloween, Ben!  I hope you are continuing to feel better!  Do you expect any trick-or-treaters tonight?  (Is that a thing in the Netherlands?)  I hope you find lots of good candy at the grocery store!  I myself have two bags of dark chocolate Kit Kats to hand out to all the kids I foresee coming by (*wink wink*)  Your pumpkin is adorable, by the way.  I wanted to do some cool faces with mine, but my friends that normally host a Halloween party decided to just hold their Costume and Pumpkin Decorating Contests online, and the theme was “2020”.  I thought “well, I’ll just get two pumpkins, and use one for the contest and one for whatever."  Then one of them started molding, which seemed very on brand for this year, so I just went with it, and ended up with meme pumpkins.  I included a color pic, so you can see just how gross the one got.  Fun fact: the top of it is held on by being skewered with a dowel rod and set in place along the rim.  In case you were curious (you probably weren’t, but oh well), trying to scoop out a moldy pumpkin is indeed deeply gross.  Imagine a physical manifestation of the sensation most people seem to feel when you say the word "moist”.  Just…so gross and squishy…  *shudders in remembrance*

My costume attempt turned out okay given that I managed to pull it together entirely out of things I already had.  In case you don’t recognize the symbol, I was one of the more recent comic versions of Black Canary (this one at least had proper shorts).  Let me tell you, trying to free hand draw that goddamn bird outline with no printer or projector was an adventure.  I had to do it backwards, essentially, too, because I realized that pencil marks are extremely difficult to erase off of craft foam.

And I just wanted to show off that I’m the kind of classy bitch who drinks wine out of a can (also, it’s an awesome can.)  To be fair, it was actually surprisingly decent (I say, as though I know shit about wine).  I sent a picture to a friend, and she started teasing me, and I said “it’s a rainbow can, how was I supposed to pass it up?”, and she was like “you know what, fair, I would have done the same thing."  I also got some kind of sparkling red wine to drink tonight for proper spooky effect.  The cashier commented on it being good as I was checking out, so here’s hoping.

I know what you mean about endless plot ideas, too.  I started a couple of smaller pieces to work on when my longer WIP gets overwhelming, got on a roll, and have almost finished one.  I got super excited when I finally got to a few of the lines that were among the first I thought of for it months ago, then realized "fuck, now I have to write the smut, don’t I?"  So, hopefully the wine will offer some inspiration there, too. XD

By the way, I totally wasn’t kidding about the Chris Evans/Henry Cavill rom com idea.  I totally went and found it in my FB messages and screen-shot it so that I can now inflict share it.  Buckle up, here we go:  So, Chris’s character’s great-aunt (played by Angela Landsbury) talks him into coming to stay with her along the English coast after his divorce, and help her run her mystery book shop.  Only, less than a week in, she runs off to go on vacation with her boy toy (Christopher Walken).  By this point, he’s already ended up in an unexpected rivalry with the co-owner of the comic shop next door (Henry), who’s been trying to get the great-aunt to sell him part of the bookstore’s storage space to build a table-top gaming area.  The woman (Natalie Dormer) who runs the little bakery/tea shop attached to the other side of the bookstore has a running bet with the other co-owner of the comic shop (John Boyega) on how long it will take for the two men to realize just what type of tension there actually is between them.  Chris could wear hipster glasses, and skinny jeans, and cozy sweaters/cardigans, that he could remove at strategic moments to reveal the ridiculousness that is his arms and chest.  Henry could wear tight jeans and fitted nerdy t-shirts and SET THE CURLS FREE GODDAMMIT.  And of course at least one encounter would have to happen at a dog park, because both their RL dogs are absolutely adorable and deserve a moment in the spotlight.  Please, Netflix, I’m begging you.  Make it happen.  (If you curious, this particular moment of inspiration struck during a discussion over "if Evans is America’s Ass, is Cavill Britain’s?"  My friends are also classy like me.  XD ) 

Well, on that note, I’m gonna shut up for a while, and go wash the color out of my hair, because I think it’s been on at least half an hour longer than it should be, technically.  Enjoy your sugary findings, and I hope they and your coffee give plenty of energy for writing your various projects! :D  I hope you continue to feel better, and that things keep looking up!  Take care!  *Properly socially distanced and seasonally spoopy hugs to you both!*

Okay 1: omg I need that gay wine. (Rainbow wine, whatever.) That is amazing, I love it. And I totally get why you needed that. I don’t have any wine for myself tonight. But I have some Budweiser (Or well “Bud” as it is called here), cans of coke and Jack Daniels, so I should be good.

 And I think your jacket turned out pretty well! Looks awesome. (Though I get what you mean about craftfoam. It is a bitch to work with when you only have pencils and no stencils.)

Halloween isn’t much of a thing here I’m afraid, aside from some witches who celebrate samhain and the uprising of general pop culture there aren’t many people who really celebrate Halloween like in the US. So no, I don’t expect any trick or treaters tonight (also because COVID has us on a 8 pm curfew). 

I think the Netherlands celebrates Saint Martin far more which Wikipedia explains pretty well as: Saint Martin's day, also known as the Funeral of Saint Martin, Martinstag or Martinmas, as well as Old Halloween and Old Hallowmas Eve is the Funeral day of Saint Martin of Tours (else Martin le Miséricordieux) and is celebrated on 11 November each year.

The day is celebrated on the evening of 11 November (the day Saint Martin was buried) in the Netherlands, where he is known as Sint-Maarten. As soon it gets dark, children up to the age of 11 or 12 (primary school age) go door to door with hand-crafted lanterns made of hollowed-out sugar beet or, more recently, paper, singing songs such as "Sinte Sinte Maarten", to receive candy or fruit in return. In the past, poor people would visit farms on the 11th of November to get food for the winter. In the 1600s, the city of Amsterdam held boat races on the lake IJ. 400 to 500 light craft, both rowing boats and sailboats, took part with a vast crowd on the banks.

But other than that we don’t really have a holiday where children go door to door to ask for candy.

It’s getting more popular now in recent years to do so on Halloween, as well as Halloween parties, but it’s not very widespread.

I know what you mean about endless plot ideas, too.  I started a couple of smaller pieces to work on when my longer WIP gets overwhelming, got on a roll, and have almost finished one.  I got super excited when I finally got to a few of the lines that were among the first I thought of for it months ago, then realized "fuck, now I have to write the smut, don’t I?"  So, hopefully the wine will offer some inspiration there, too. XD

Yeah I was really excited to write some fanfic for Love and Monsters and then today I started doubting that. And now I’m leaning towards writing more Petopher fic where Chris gets turned?

I blame @for-the-love-of-wolves​ for that one because I read their fic and now I’m like: that’s a good idea. I want to write that too. And now I can’t shake it.

I should really finish things but urgh... part of me just wants to write more teen wolf fanfic.

I’m really curious about your wip though, I hope that when you’re ready to share it, I get to read it too. ^^

Honestly, Netflix needs to make this idea happen. I insists. I wonder if my friend who works their customer service can pitch ideas but I don’t have much hope for that. Would be pretty awesome though to see this come alive because it’s GOOD! Holy moly I want that to happen now XD. Brittain’s ass is it, UK Vs US ass fight!

Wait is that too gay?

Ah who cares XD

I’m still snivelling with a cold but it’s only stuff coming out of my nose, for the most part, I’m doing pretty good and can focus somewhat on things again. And no real pain aside from the general ones.

So I’m gonna wish you Happy Halloween, have a good night and lots of socially distanced hugs from me and Mo.

[wndmxmffs]

Corpse Bride

For the spoopy selebration!

Pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7K+

Warning: paranormal stuff; the reader is basically dating a breathing corpse lmao

A/N: heyy! so, finally i’m back and in time to post my first piece for the spoopy selebration! hope you will enjoy reading this one, i had a lotta fun writing it even though it might be rushed which i’m sorry for :((( got so dark at the end oml

It was a long, cold and lonely night. The fog had just started settling again and you tried to speed up a little to get home as soon as possible. You didn’t necessarily live in the safest part of the city and you weren’t planning to get attacked on your way home through the not so well-lit streets- your quarter wasn’t the richest one either.

As you speeded up and turned the corner, you saw a slightly dirty white dress flowing around the figure of a redheaded woman in the wind. Your heart skipped a beat and you almost let out a scream before placing your hand on your chest with a racing heart. You looked into her glassy eyes and started to feel uncomfortable but still approached the woman. You weren’t sure if it was the clever thing to do, but she seemed lost and alone, and you didn’t want her to get into trouble.

You crossed the street, looking both ways before stopping a few inches away from the stranger who slowly turned her head to you. You could clearly see her mouth moving but all you heard were incomprehensible whispers. You shook your head and stepped a little closer, asking her to repeat what she had just said.

“I’ve locked myself out,” she repeated a bit more loudly. You nodded and looked around on the street. You could see a group of young boys turning the corner and you felt a sudden sense of anxiety in your stomach as they looked at you with raised eyebrows- before continuing their chatter and laughter down the road. You let out a small sigh and turned back to the stranger woman who seemed lost and – even though she tried to hide it – scared. The light breeze flew some of her red hair in her face and she was quite slow to react- she put it back behind her left ear like she was already dying. You had no idea why, but you felt even colder around her and something off about the beautiful stranger that spent shivers down your spine. However, you simply ignored the bad feeling in your gut and told her to feel free to spend the night at yours- your apartment was only a few feet away. It was obvious that she didn’t have any back-up keys and you couldn’t let her wander around the cold street throughout the night.

Once the old and spooky elevator in your block of flats arrived at your floor, the redheaded woman looked around a bit shy and her eyes wide open.

“I know it doesn’t seem very welcoming but I hope you’ll like my flat a bit more,” you said smiling at her, letting her inside and dropping your keys on the shelf right next to your front door. You led the oddly beautiful stranger around your apartment before sitting down for a tea with her, getting to know each other. You found out that her name was Natasha Romanoff, former Russian spy but that was all in the past. You listened to her talking about herself in her low voice and watched as she was getting more and more comfortable opening up to you.

And from that night on, you kept seeing each other, all the while Natasha grew quite fond of you and you knew that you felt so much more than attraction to this woman. Yes, it was so much more- you felt like you were in love for the first time in a long while. And you had never felt something quite like this before. Natasha was more than a simple human being- she radiated a particular kind of mystery that you weren’t able to solve and that was what made you feel such a strong attraction towards her. Natasha was everything you had ever dreamt of.

When you first started going out, it was a bit awkward and hard to find the right topics, but eventually, you started getting to know each other even more. However, Natasha still acted weird every time you were walking around the town- like she had been sent here from another planet or simply another century. And little did you know that was the truth.

At first, you didn’t have any suspicions. You simply thought they were silly thoughts and chased them away as quickly as you could. But, over time, your anxiety started taking over. You knew that something was up, that something wasn’t right. Natasha had never actually told anything important about her life besides her work and his favourite things. She always looked sad and pale, and her choice of clothes didn’t help the situation either. She either stayed quiet all day or spoke at such a low voice that you could barely hear her. At first, you thought she was simply ill, maybe had caught a cold but after months, you knew that something else was the reason.

At first, you didn’t even give a second thought to these odd things about your girlfriend. Everyone has their quirks, right? But there was a single week that managed to change your mind and led you to believe you were simply crazy. There was no other explanation for everything that had happened.

It all started on a cold night. You were bundled up in your blanket and were sleeping peacefully when you reached out to cuddle your girlfriend, half-asleep. When your hand landed on the cold surface of your bed. You furrowed your eyebrows and pushed yourself up on the bed, looking around with your eyes slightly open. You scratched the back of your head while getting out of bed and headed towards the door to look for your girlfriend. You had already reached for the handle on the door when you heard a loud scream in the kitchen. You froze for a moment, then quickly opened the door and rushed out, already looking for the closest weapon when you saw Natasha standing by the window all alone, looking at the full moon. You looked at her with wrinkles on your forehead and touched her shoulder gently, causing her to let out a small whimper and look at you with eyes wide open.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard a scream and…” But you couldn’t finish because Natasha simply turned towards the corridor and went back to bed without saying a single word. Later, you remembered that her feet didn’t make any sound while walking on the parquet, even though they were creaking all the time you walked on them.

The next day, Natasha told you that she had some stuff to do downtown and you had a hard time letting her go. You were sitting on the top of your kitchen table with your girlfriend between your legs and her lips intertwined with yours. You couldn’t help but giggle when she gently caressed your back, saying that she needed to leave. You looked sadly and still desperately at her as she stepped out the front door, finally wearing something from this century. She even seemed less pale and much happier than those days and you were convinced that the events from the night before were simply a part of an awful nightmare. However, as you went to the bathroom to wash your hands before making lunch and looked in the mirror, you could see her standing behind you and you let out a cry before quickly turning around. You couldn’t see anything but your old furniture- Natasha was long gone. Your stomach was jumping up and down and you needed to sit down to take a moment before going back to the kitchen. You buried your face deep in your palms but all you could see was Natasha’s pale face and glassy eyes staring at you in the mirror. You knew you needed to get out of your flat, so you grabbed everything you needed and reached for the handle- which didn’t even move. You tried to push it down, pull it up but it was steady and stubborn. It didn’t even let out a squeak as you kept trying and you simply couldn’t believe all this was real. You hysterically started looking for you keys and you even dropped them before trying to push it into the lock. However, it didn’t fit. You had no idea what had happened- all you knew was that you needed to get out. You felt warm tears rolling down your cheeks as you looked around, trying to find a way out and the moment you turned towards your living room, you saw Natasha again- she was dressed in her white Victorian gown, much like a bride’s dress back then. Your girlfriend looked at you from under her eyelashes and her lips slowly formed a terrible smile on her face. You started screaming at the top of your lungs and banged on the door multiple times, hoping someone would hear you- only then you remembered that you had only two neighbours- one of them was at work and the other one was a deaf lady.

You saw Natasha slowly approaching you with that smile of a psychopath on her face and you were sure it was the end. However, you didn’t give it up so quickly. You grabbed the vase from the bookcase and threw it at the beast you had called your girlfriend not so long ago. She hissed and pressed her hand on her forehead while you had time to escape- the door suddenly opened up and you ran as fast as you could down the stairs and out the front door of your apartment. You weren’t stupid, you knew it was not the end, so you had to cross the street as fast as you could while also avoiding getting in the way of an approaching vehicle.

You were already on the other side of the road when you saw the woman dressed in the white gown looking at you while laughing, spending shivers down your spine. You were ready to continue running but a loud crash and an otherworldly scream made you stop. You turned around to see blood flowing out of Natasha’s head and a panicking driver getting out to see the damage, or, in your opinion, the blessing, he had caused.

Suddenly, you could feel the anxiety and the odd coldness you had been constantly experiencing for months leave your body and you knew that she was actually dead this time. You were safe now.

Please, leave your feedback in my comment section or my inbox. It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

[kittysukagasterfics]

Tough Break

Note: And fluffiness train chugs on! Seems like it’ll never stop! >:3 Anyway, onto the fic!

Handplates belongs to: @zarla-s

Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: Seems like Gaster had come down with a cold! As his temporary caretaker, will Sam be able to get this stubborn skele to rest?

     Sam sighed in content as they sipped on their cup of golden flower tea. The Human was currently sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for the toaster to pop and coffee to brew. They were also waiting for the oven to heat up so the croissants could bake. Gaster would always tell them that they didn’t need to make him and the brothers meals all the time but Sam insisted. So now Sam cooked nearly everyday for skeletons and they couldn’t be more happy about it.

    '*You place the croissants in the oven just as you hear Gaster walk in.’

     They turned around with a smile to greet him, only for them to stop mid-sentence. Gaster was stumbling as he walked into the kitchen. His face seemed flushed with darker circles than usual under his eye sockets. Gaster was also holding his skull, seemingly in pain. He merely mumbled a ‘good morning’, not even bothering to scold them for sitting on the counter like he usually would. Gaster nearly fell over as he walked so Sam had to quickly go over and guide him to a chair to sit down in.

    “*You ask him if he’s alright.” ‘*He takes a while to respond to you...’

    “I...I’m fine, Human. Just a little tired, that’s all...”

     The Human gently placed a hand on his forehead. It felt very warm to the touch, probably due to a fever. Not even waiting to finish breakfast, Sam picked Gaster and carried him to his office. He tried to protest and get out of their hold but he soon became too weak to fight. Entering the room, the Human laid the skeleton on the couch before covering him with a soft blanket. They told him that he’s not feeling well so he needs to rest. Gaster didn’t take too well to this though.

    “I’m not sick, Sam. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

    “*You ask him to explain to you why his forehead is burning up then.” ‘*He has no answer...’

     Gaster then began to argue about how much work he needed to get done. How he needed to write up reports for Alphys and how the brothers had to do tests. The Human tried to suggest that they could do some of his work for him but by the unamused look on Gaster’s face, Sam could tell that he never forgot the last time they ‘helped’ him with his work. They just told him to lay down and get some rest while they look after the brothers and Toby. Once again he tried to protest.

    “I’m not going to just lay here, Human, I need to get some important work done.”

    “*You threaten not to give him any breakfast if he doesn’t.”

    “...On second thought, maybe some rest will do me some good...”

     He laid down as instructed and Sam left the room to finish up breakfast.

~~~~~~

     Sam carried two plates of food and a dog bowl toward the cell room. The brothers and Toby greeted them with hungry excitement. The Human smiled as they gave them each their food. The three must’ve been really hungry as Sam had to tell them to slow down their eating. While the brothers and Toby ate, the Human told of how there wouldn’t be any tests for today. Subject 1 & 2 were obviously surprised and slightly relieved by this.

    “did you finally convince him to let us take a break?”

    “YOU’RE SO LAZY, BROTHER! BUT, WHY AREN’T WE HAVING TESTS TODAY, HUMAN SAM?”

    “*You tell them that Gaster isn’t feeling well today and you have to take care of him.”

     The brothers didn’t quite understand but they were excited nonetheless about not having to do any sort of test. Sam gave them the Rubik’s cube to play with for the time being and gave Toby his favorite squeaky toy bone. With the babybones and puppy kept busy, the Human went to the medical room where they knew the thermometer and medicine. Of course, they had to use a step stool to actually reach the cabinets where the items were kept. They grabbed the items and walked over toward the office where Gaster was supposed to be resting. Instead, however, the Human found him writing on his clipboard.

    “*You begin to scold Gaster as you take the clipboard from him.”

    “Sam, did you not hear me when I-*cough cough!*”

     When he tried to protest again, Gaster suddenly broke out into a harsh coughing fit. Sam helped him lay back down as they took his temperature. While waiting for it to beep, Sam poured some medicine on a spoon as they told him how the brothers and Toby were fed and mostly keeping busy. After hearing the thermometer beep, the Human took it out and read the numbers: 101.4. Just high enough to be considered a fever. Sam gave him the medicine as they gave him pets. They giggled when Gaster grimaced from the taste of the liquid.

    “*You offer to make him some soup to help him feel better.” ‘*He gives you a tired look.’

    “You know you don’t have to go through this much trouble for me, Human...”

     But Sam just told him that they were just returning the favor from when they were sick. Giving the skeleton a reassuring kiss, the Human headed towards the kitchen to make soup for lunch.

~~~~~~

     Sam petted the brothers and Toby on the head as they handed the three their lunch. They warned about how the soup was still hot before heading towards the work room with another bowl. The Human greeted Gaster only to see him once again writing on his clipboard. They once again scold him for working when he should’ve been trying to sleep.

    ‘*You grab the clipboard and toss it to the other side of the couch.’

     Before he could protest this time, Sam made him scoot over so they could lay down next to him on the couch. He had a few objections to this.

    “You’re going to get sick again, Sam...”

    “*You tell him you’re not worried about your health right now...”

     Gaster didn’t get to say anything else as the medicine made him sleepy and he and Sam fell asleep cuddling, their SOULs glowing in sync with each other as they slept.

~~~~~~

    Gaster could hear them crying, begging Asgore to SPARE them. Knowing his king, Asgore was probably regretting initiating this fight in the first place. But he needed one more human SOUL and Asgore couldn’t just pass up this opportunity. Gaster had tried to convince him otherwise but the King wouldn’t listen. He saw the poor thing staring at him, their eyes pleading with him to help them. But...there was nothing he could do, not at this point. Suddenly, Asgore raised up his trident before swinging it down to finally take the red SOUL...and Gaster just stood there watching.

~~~~~~

     Gaster woke up with a start, gasping. He took a minute to take deep breaths to calm himself down, just like Sam had taught him to do. That’s when he noticed Sam was stirring awake as well. At first Gaster thought he had woken them up but they suddenly sat straight up, tears running down their face. He immediately wrapped his arms around them, trying to ignore his pounding skull.

    “Did you have a nightmare, Sam?”

    ‘*You nod as you cry into Gaster’s chest.’

     He then asked them to tell him about it and Sam relayed how they were killed while surrounded by little yellow flowers. They couldn’t see who exactly killed them though. Sam also told how there was another person as well, who they also couldn’t tell the identity of. Gaster listened intently to all this, a cold shiver running down his spine and he didn’t think it was from the sickness. Not wanting to worry the Human though, he stroked their hair in a comforting manner to lull them back to sleep. As soon as he heard their even breaths, he used his magic to grab his clipboard and began writing notes.

    ‘Not sure if it was coincidence or not but it appears Sam and I have the ability to ‘co-dream’ together. The Human doesn’t seem to have realized it yet. Maybe it has something to do with our SOULs being connected? Will have to look more into this when Sam confirms I’m well enough to work again...’

     Putting the clipboard down beside him, Gaster yawned and held Sam close to him as he fell back into Dreamland.

Note: Happy Spoopy month everyone! I hope you’re already putting up your decorations and eating lots of candy! (But not too much candy ;3) Thank you all so much for reading! I love all of you! Stay tuned for more.

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Okay!!! Desperate for twinyards :D!!! Will Aaron ever found out that erin takes care of him when he is drunk? And will he find out that Aaron cares for him and will there ever be a point where the things he said when he is drunk would be said when be isnt? Gosh im such trash for your fem!andreil

I’m so sorry these asks keep taking so long! They take me thirty years to get to and then they turn out really bad. One day I’ll start creating quality content. Until then, have this. 

In honor of Spoopy Month, it’s Halloween themed!!!!! (I borrowed a big chunk of it from my canon compliant fic Love of my Life but I just really like that part of the story. Sorry :))

“I never thought Crowley and Aziraphale would ever return to Eden,” Ronnie said as the Monsters made their way to the bar. Ania smiled. Erin scowled. “Aw don’t scowl at me like that, Angel.” Ronnie barely dodged the heels Erin chucked at her. With a broad smile, Ronnie turned her attention to Aaron. “I’m sorely disappointed to see that you’re not the Archangel Micheal.” Aaron glared at her but his annoyance didn’t last. 

Aaron could never stay mad at Ronnie for long. For the longest time, Ronnie had been the only ray of sunshine in Aaron’s dreary life. The middle child and only daughter of a rich widower, Ronnie was free to do as she pleased while her father groomed her brothers to inherit his fortune. Having four brothers would be more than enough for most people but Ronnie hadn’t hesitated to adopt Aaron into her little band of miscreants. In the years before Erin’s arrival, it was Ronnie (and at times, her brothers) that had been looking out for Aaron. She was just as much his sister as Erin was. That was what made their relationship so hard for him to wrap his head around. He’d given up trying to make sense of how they could have gone behind his back like that long ago but on nights out at Eden’s he couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. 

“Earth to Mikey,” Ronnie said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Come on, we’re toasting you’re little cheerleader. To Katelyn,” Ronnie cried as she raised her own shot. “For breathing -or maybe blowing- some life into Aaron!” Aaron shrieked at the crude joke as his family laughed, downing their shots. Aaron’s brain short-circuited at the sight of Erin downing her shot to the toast. She just wants to drink, Aaron told himself as he regained control of his thoughts. Curling himself into his shoulders, he stood apart as Ronnie caught up with the others.

“Aaron,” Josten said as she nudged his foot with her boot. “Erin said to grab a table.” Aaron nodded and headed off to search for one. Despite the pounding music, he heard Josten following him. He risked a backward glance only to find her watching him. He growled but Josten’s face remained blank. She’s been spending too much time with Eri, he thought as he went back to shouldering his way through the crowd. Finally, he found a table in the back of the club with just enough chairs for them. Without hesitating, he sank into one only to find it covered in something sticky and white. 

“Oh Hell no,” he screamed as he leaped up. Josten peered over at his seat before doubling over in a fit of laughter. “Fuck off, Josten.” He snatched the paper towels she offered him out of her hands and did his best to clean himself off before kicking over the chair. 

“I see temper tantrums run in the family,” Josten remarked. Aaron looked over at her. She was staring out across the dancefloor, a soft smile on her face. Following her gaze, he spotted Erin flickering in and out of view from where she still stood at the bar. A pang shot through his chest. Ania looked at Erin the same way Erik looked at Nicky- the same way Katelyn looked at him. 

“Damn you, Josten,” he said, more to himself than her. 

“I’m already damned,” she replied anyway. “I’m damned to spend the rest of eternity in love with your sister but if that isn’t damnation at its best, I don’t know what is.”

The world tilted beneath Aaron’s feet. Love. Ania had said she loved his sister. His Erin. His Little Doe. Tears spilled from Aaron’s eyes. “If you hurt her…” he said, his voice breaking before trailing off entirely as he gulped for air. 

“She’ll kill me herself,” Ania answered easily. She reached a hand out and carefully wiped a tear from his face. “Don’t cry. Eri’ll skin me alive if you do.” 

“Does she even care?” he asked. Aaron tried to smile as he asked it but he knew it came out as more of a grimace than a smile. A wave of sadness crashed down over him at the sound of his own words. 

"Of course she cares, you cracked walnut," Josten snapped. As the strobing lights passed over her countenance Aaron could see the fury on her face. "I've only known her a year. You've known her for three? Four? How the hell can you not-" Josten stopped short. "It's because you're always drunk," she said quietly. 

"No. That's Kevin," Aaron said. 

"Whenever we're here. Whenever we go home, you're too drunk to remember." 

"Remember what?" 

Josten worried her lower lip, weighing her words "Don't drink tonight." She clamped a hand over his mouth before he could protest. "Trust me. You'll see."

"Trust a liar?" 

"I wouldn't lie about Erin." It sickened Aaron to know she was telling the truth. For the remainder of the night, to Kevin's delight, Aaron discreetly pawned his drinks off to him. Where Erin excelled at faking the drug-induced mania she’d lived with for the last two years, Aaron excelled at faking a drunken stupor. Or at least, he usually did. Keeping up the act was much harder than Aaron anticipated. He was far too preoccupied keeping an eye on his sister to fully concentrate. A few rounds in, he gave up watching her in favor of retreating to the dance floor. At least there, he wouldn’t be under her constant scrutiny. 

He was wrong. Each time the crowd parted enough for him to have a clear view of the ledge where he’d left them, he found Erin’s eyes trained on him. No matter where he went or what he did, she was watching him. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead. Had she seen through his ruse? Did she know he was faking? 

There was nothing Aaron could do now but pray. He passed the remainder of the night on the floor with Nicky. Around 11:50, Ronnie called out for the final round. Josten was by Aaron’s side in an instant. 

“Throw your legs onto Nicky’s lap in the car. And talk to Kevin about something- anything. Make him laugh.” Aaron broke his facade to shoot a confused look at her. “Just do it,” Josten pleaded. Aaron ground his teeth together as he considered his options. After a moment he gave her a sharp nod and made his way over to the counter with her to collect the final round. 

In the car ride home, Aaron did as he was told. He threw his legs over Nicky’s and leaned heavily against Kevin. Kevin wrapped an arm around Aaron, who tensed immediately. Kevin Day was not known for his compassion nor for his affection. Catching the warning look Josten shot him as she buckled her seatbelt, he forced himself to relax. For once in his life, Kevin wasn’t talking about Exy. Instead, he was giving a lecture on the unabridged history of the LGBT community. Aaron tentatively slid his own commentary into the lesson. To his relief, both Kevin and Nicky laughed. He choked on the soda he was drinking when he saw the upward curl of Erin’s lips in the dashboard mirror. 

Nicky got out of the car first as it rolled to a stop on the drive. He toppled face-first into the grass and laughter burst out of Aaron. He felt something pressing at his back and before he knew it, he toppled out of the car too.

“You drunk bastard,” Erin said. Aaron’s heart stopped as he rolled onto his back. Erin was standing over him, a brilliant grin plastered to her face. “That’s what you get for drinking so much” She bent down and scooped him up in an easy, obviously practiced, motion. Aaron was too shocked to say a word. 

 Aaron was suddenly thirteen again. He was sitting curled up on his mother’s bed with the handset pressed to his ear. A woman's voice drifted through it. She was talking about a girl named Erin. The woman was gushing about how happy she was to have found Erin’s birth mother, and her brother too. Brother, Aaron thought. He felt his heart racing in his ribcage. I’m- I’m a brother! A twin brother! Aaron had been over the moon at the very thought of meeting his sister. 

        The voice of his mother sent him crashing back down to earth. She hissed at the woman to keep her fat mouth shut. She didn't want to know anything about Erin. She wanted nothing to do with her and she certainly did not want Aaron seeing her again either. She slammed the phone down so hard that Aaron jerked the phone away from his face. Silently, returned the phone to its cradle and crawled back to his own room. Drawing his legs in, he tried to hold in his grief. Hot tears streaked down his face as his shoulders shook. Anger coursed through his veins. Clenching his jaw, he unfurled himself and stalked into the kitchen. He grabbed a notebook and pen from the kitchen and ran out of the house. He raced down the block to the park. Seated at one of the picnic tables, his pen flew across the page. He wasn't quite sure what he'd written, only that he had to send it before his mother ever found out. He stopped by the fountain on his way out of the park. He would need money to send the letter. With a grimace, he peeled his shoes and socks off. Wading through the fountain, he collected every penny, nickel, and dime he could find. This isn't stealing, he told himself. They threw their money in here. Even if it is, it doesn't matter. This is for my sister. This is for Erin.

        Every day for the next two weeks, Aaron checked the mail in the hopes of finding a response to his own letter. When it came, Aaron nearly had a heart attack on the spot. He sat down on the steps in front of the house. With shaking fingers, he carefully opened the letter. A brilliant smile plastered itself across his face when he saw the chicken scratch that filled the page. It looked just like his own handwriting. Unfortunately, his smile had been quick to fade. Erin had only written back to tell Aaron that she didn’t want him around. She was more than happy to remain with Cassidy and her new brother, Drake. Aaron grabbed desperately at his chest. It felt as though some hand had forced its way into his ribcage and ripped his heart out.  New brother, Drake. Tears fell onto the page. Ink ran, blurring the words into one another. Aaron ripped up the remnants of the letter up and hurled them in the bin. He collapsed on the kitchen floor, sobbing. Great, he thought. Fucking great. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need her. I don’t need anyone. I hope I never meet Erin or her new brother Drake.

But Aaron had. He had been sat down across from her in a juvenile detention facility, three feet away from her, separated by a four-inch pane of bulletproof glass. Looking at Erin was like looking through a funhouse mirror, it was him but something wasn’t quite right. Sure, Erin’s hair was longer than his, ending harshly at the edges of her jaw and she had a few more moles than he did but that wasn’t it. Maybe it was the seemingly permanent downwards tug of her lips. Maybe it was the bold set of her shoulders that exuded a confidence Aaron could only dream of.  

Maybe it was her eyes. They were the same brown as his but where his were full of pain and fear, hers were empty. Two empty pits stared back at him from across the table. The glass may have been designed to protect him from Erin’s fists but it did nothing to save him from her eyes. So empty. So soulless. Aaron had once heard that there had been a time when people had refused to take photos for fear that they stole the souls of the photographed. At the time, Aaron had scoffed at the people for being so stupid. Now, Aaron understood. Sitting before his sister, he feared that if he stared too long into her eyes, she might steal his to replace the one she lacked. They were so cold. So empty. So loveless. On the plane back from Cali, Aaron closed his eyes only to find his sister engraved on the back of his lids. 

Back in Columbia, Aaron stood before Nicky’s full-length mirror. He’d tugged a skull cap down over his head. His bangs poked out from beneath, matching Erin’s to a T. He blinked and it really was Erin staring back at him in the mirror. Reaching a hand out, he traced a finger down her cheek. Her cold eyes stared back at him and realized why he couldn’t look directly at them. They were their mother’s eyes. When Tilda Minyard wasn’t drunk or high, she was empty. 

There wasn’t very much Aaron knew about his father other than the fact that his mother had eloped with him once she’d learned of her pregnancy. Tilda was three and a half months pregnant when Micheal Minyard died in a car crash. Depression coaxed Tilda back into old habits that Micheal had helped her break. She began drinking and chain-smoking despite the twins she bore within her. Both twins were born with fetal alcohol syndrome, manifesting in their stunted growth, ADHD, and Aaron’s dyslexia. Erin had developed a nicotine addiction as well.  It wasn’t until after Aaron had found out about his twin that Tilda had told him this. 

“I didn’t even want you,” Tilda mused as she took another swig from her whiskey bottle. “I wanted Erin but your names sound so similar that the shitty ass nurse fucked up and gave me the wrong one. You never stood a chance with me,” she said. “I was never going to love you.” Tilda swung the bottle at the side of Aaron’s head. It connected with his skull and rattled his brain but it wasn’t enough to dislodge the words from it. 

Aaron pressed his forehead up to the mirror. Up to Erin’s forehead. 

“Do you know why Mom doesn’t love us?” he whispered. “It’s because no one loved her. No one but Dad but he’s long gone. It’s his fault, you know? Luther’s, I mean. Mom is the way she is because her own brother didn’t love her enough. He didn’t love her enough to let her stay once she got pregnant. He didn’t love her enough to help her take care of us. He didn’t love her enough to protect you.” Tears slid down Aaron’s face as his grip on the mirror’s frame tightened. “Luther might not have loved his sister, but I’ll love you til the day I die.” Looking in the mirror, Aaron saw himself again but it wasn’t the same Aaron he’d grown accustomed to seeing. This one had fire. This one had fight. This one would protect his sister, no matter the cost. This one was going to save his sister from devolving into the monster their mother had become. 

That Aaron failed. Erin was just as cold and empty as their mother had been. That Aaron failed. Erin was forced to face Drake all on her own. Every night, he lay awake wondering what horrors his sister faced behind the pristine white walls of Easthaven. No amount of kisses and cuddles from Katelyn were enough to bury the weight of Aaron’s broken promise. Guilt and regret intertwined, winding around Aaron and choking the life out of him. He broke down constantly, reduced to a sobbing mess by the weight of his woes. 

Aaron loved his sister more than life itself. Erin was indifferent to him. Upon her return from Evermore, she hadn’t even spared him a passing glance. Instead, she’d fixated upon the child Josten had brought home. Aaron had never expected his sister to fawn over him. It wasn’t in her nature. Or so he had thought. It was because of this that Aaron couldn’t help the spike of jealousy that shot through him as he watched his sister’s shoulders soften when she held the baby. He could barely contain the scowl he felt tugging at his lips as Erin brushed her lips against the backs of Cleo’s hands.

  Cradling Cleo close he asked her, “What makes you so special? I know why Erin lets Ania have what she wants but what about you? You’re just a baby. I’m her brother. Am I not good enough for her?” Tears splashed down onto Cleo’s face and he hurried to wipe them off of her. As he did, he felt Cleo’s tiny hand wrap around his little finger. It was just barely big enough to encircle the single finger. “Oh,” he said. “That’s why.” He sat down on the couch and lay Cleo in his lap. She looked up at him curiously before her face split into a wide grin. “No wonder Mom wanted a daughter.” Cleo babbled at him and he chuckled softly. “You’re right. Maybe Luther was jealous too. I won’t be like him,” he swore again. “I’m not going to abandon Erin. Or you either.” 

Aaron loved his sister more than life itself. If Josten made her happy, then so be it. If Cleo was the one she showered with love, then fine. But a small part of him wasn’t fine. Erin didn’t love him. His sister, his own flesh and blood, didn’t love him. It left a hole in his heart, one that even Katelyn couldn’t fill. Aaron hadn’t known what he’d have to give up to Katelyn but what he did was far worse than anything he could have imagined. There weren’t enough words in any language to express the anguish that washed over Aaron when Erin had picked Ania over him. He’d used Josten as bait for Erin to break her promise but a small part of him had wanted her to refuse. He’d wanted Erin to pick him over her. He’d wanted Erin to do the unthinkable and tell him that she loved him more than she wanted Ania. He’d wanted her to wrap her arms around him and hold him close. 

He wanted her to hold him the way she held him now as she carried him to the front door. Josten was already unlocking the door. She turned at the sound of Erin’s footsteps. A bright smile of her own burst out across her face. 

“Shut up, Ania,” Erin swore. 

“Haven’t said a thing,” Josten replied. She pushed open the door and let Erin pass. “Erin?” she asked as she followed them into the house. “Why do you only do these things when Aaron’s drunk?” To anyone else, it may have seemed like an innocent question. To Erin though? Getting anything from her was like pulling teeth. For half a second, Aaron didn’t expect her to answer. Then he remembered that it was Josten asking not him. A pang of bitterness pierced his heart as he felt his sister’s chest swell at the intake of a breath. 

“Because he’s nice to me,” she said. Aaron’s head jerked up but Erin wasn’t paying attention. She’d stopped walking. Her eyes were trained on a spot on the wall. “After I killed Tilda, he stopped talking to me entirely. Aaron loved Tilda, even if she didn’t deserve to be loved, and I took her away. I hate when you say you’re fine because that’s what I told myself whenever he ignored me. I told myself that I didn’t care. I did. Aaron’s favorite color is navy blue. Half of my closet is navy blue. Aaron’s favorite song is Young Blood. It’s on every one of my cassette tapes in the car. I hate cool ranch chips but I buy three bags every time I go to the store because Aaron loves them. Tilda didn’t deserve Aaron’s love but he loved her anyway. I don’t deserve Aaron’s love either. I-” A shaky breath rattled through Erin. “I just wanted him to love me too.” 

“I do,” Aaron blurted out. Erin snapped out of her trance at the sound of his voice. 

“You’re not drunk,” she said. Her voice was dangerously quiet. Her eyes were dark and stony but this time Aaron didn’t look away. The longer he stared, the more apparent it was to him that they weren’t empty. Staring into them, he saw something flickering deep down inside.  

The truth about cameras is that they don’t steal your soul. They show you yours. No matter how perfect a picture may seem to others when a person looked too hard at their own, they saw what lurked beneath. It wasn’t that Erin had their mother’s eyes. It was that she had his. When Aaron looked too hard at his sister’s eyes, he saw too much of himself. He saw the sad, empty creature he’d become. He saw the defeated, lonely creature he still was. Most people hailed Aaron as ‘the normal twin’, the Dr. Jekyll to her Mr. Hyde. No one realized how wrong they were. 

Erin was a fatalist at heart. To her, everything, every single thing, was predetermined. If the world believed her to be a monster, then that was what she’d be. She played her part and lived exactly the way people thought she would. It was all an act though. Behind every one of Erin’s monstrous acts, was a lonely little girl trying her hardest not to get left behind again. 

Unlike his sister, Aaron didn’t believe in fate. Every man made his own way in life, no matter the circumstances he faced to make it there. If that was true, then didn’t that make Aaron responsible for all the things that he’d done? Growing up, Aaron had done many things he wasn’t proud of. It didn’t matter who suffered so long as it wasn’t Aaron. If there was no fate, then wasn’t Aaron responsible for all the people he’d hurt? It wasn’t Erin who was a monster. It was him. When Aaron looked too hard at his sister’s eyes, he was forced to face the monster he had become and it scared him. 

Aaron felt the support go out from under him and he hit the floor, hard. Erin spun on her heel and shoved past Josten. Neither of them moved until they heard the door to her bedroom slam shut. 

“I told you so,” Josten whispered. There were tears shining in her eyes. “It’s over, isn’t it?” she asked herself. 

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked. 

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone about this and now… she’ll never trust me again.” Her voice broke. 

“Ania-”

“Don’t, Aaron.” She turned on her heel and marched out of the house, nearly knocking over Kevin who was dragging Nicky in. 

“What the hell have you done to her?” Kevin snarled. Just the sight of a teary-eyed Josten was enough to sober him up. He abandoned Nicky and closed the space between himself and Aaron in the blink of an eye. Balling his fist in Aaron’s shirt, he shoved him against the wall. “I’m not asking again, Aaron.” This is what a brother should be, Aaron thought.

When Ania first arrived at Palmetto a year ago, she and Kevin were always at odds. No matter what she did, it was never enough for him. But that was because he knew she could be better. Nicky had made the mistake of mocking her once and Kevin and slammed him against the wall just as he held Aaron now. Erin intervened quickly, breaking them apart with a poisonous smile and a flash of steel but one thing remained:  Kevin Day, a man afraid of his own shadow, hadn’t hesitated to square up the second someone dissed Ania. And that was before he’d found out who she really was.

Kevin and Ania weren’t bound by blood the way the twins were. They’d chosen each other. Ania had chosen to follow Kevin out to Palmetto and Kevin had chosen to have her back. But hadn’t the twins done the same thing? Erin chose to move to Columbia and Aaron had chosen to protect her. Why had they failed where Kevin and Ania had succeeded? The two of them were just as broken as the twins. In fact, they were worse. Ania had lived her life in the shadows, jumping ship the second anyone started to get too close. Kevin had lived his life in the limelight, denied anything even resembling a friend. 

Even without knowing her, Kevin had looked upon the wretched creature that had been Ania Josten and wanted to offer her a future. He had wanted to offer her something to live for. Kevin would never be able to love Ania the way she needed to be but he wanted to give her the chance at a life where she could find someone who could. 

And he did. Kevin brought Ania to Palmetto and gave her a reason to keep going. He brought her to Erin, someone who could care for her the way she needed to be cared for. But what had Aaron done for his sister? He’d pushed her away the second things got hard. He’d denied her of the love he’d promised himself he’d give. He’d made her lonely. 

“How?” he croaked. “How do you do it?” Kevin frowned and his grip loosened.

“How what?” he asked.

“How do you always know what Ania needs?” Aaron had seen the way Ania ran to Kevin the second things fell apart. Too many times, he’d come back to the dorms to find her breaking down in Kevin’s arms. Each time he’d watched Kevin swaddle her shaking form in blankets and offer her things: a cassette player with only one tape, a bowl of vanilla ice cream drowning in chocolate syrup, his laptop with an exy game already loaded. 

During Erin’s time at Easthaven, Aaron had found himself craving the smell of cigarette smoke. He wasn’t a smoker but the smell reminded him of Erin. One night, he finally caved and dragged himself to the corner store. He returned with a pack of cigarettes and another pint of strawberry ice cream. Every time Aaron passed by the corner store, he picked one up. He never ate a single one, though. Opening the fridge door, he realized there wasn’t any space left. Every inch of his fridge was filled with pints of strawberry ice cream. 

It should be empty. The fridge should be empty. His breath came in short, ragged gasps. Aaron didn’t know when the tears started or how long he’d stayed knelt in front of the open fridge, only that Ania kicked it closed before sitting down on top of it. 

“There isn’t enough strawberry ice cream in the world to fix her,” she said. She handed him a tissue box and waited for him to blow his nose.

“Then what will?’ he asked. 

“That’s for you to figure out,” Ania said before unplugging the fridge. That was what Kevin said before he let go of Aaron entirely. With that, he left Aaron alone in the kitchen so he could lug Nicky up to his own room. 

Aaron sat heavily in one of the dining room chairs, picking at the table mats. It was early the next morning when he finally decided what to do. Actually, he didn’t decide. He just kind of stood up and started for the stairs. He didn’t even remember taking a single step. One moment he was at the kitchen table, the next he was standing in front of Erin’s door. He reached a hand out, tracing the letters on the door. The memory hit Aaron like a train. 

It had been a week after Erin had arrived in Columbia. Aaron’s name was already on the door and he had wanted to add hers to it too. Ever since he’d been old enough, Aaron had been working part-time just to keep himself and Tilda fed. In the months before Erin was set to come home, he’d picked up extra shifts to scrounge up the money he needed. With it, it went to the crafts store in the rich part of town. He picked out the four letters he needed and bought the highest quality paints he could find. On Friday, after practice, he’d broken into their mother’s liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. Downing a swig, he found the courage to present his haul to Erin. It took some coaxing but he managed to convince her to sit on the floor with him on a pile of newspapers. Together the two of them painted the wooden letters black. Once they were dry, Aaron watched as his sister painted constellations onto them. 

“What’s that one?” he asked.

“Gemini,” she replied. 

“Astrology,” Aaron said as he crinkled his nose in disgust. Erin glanced at him, her lips just barely curling up. 

“Have you ever heard the story of Pollux and Castor?” she asked.

“No,” he replied.

“They were two brothers, twins, from Greek Mythology. They did everything together,” Erin said softly. “The two of them couldn’t live without each other. So, when Castor lay dying, Pollux called out to his father for help. Zeus saw his son’s pain and offered him a way to save his brother. Zeus offered Pollux the ability to share his immortality with his brother. Doing so would mean that neither of them could live normal lives again. They would no longer live here on Earth and they’d only have each other as company. Pollux agreed immediately. To him, his brother was more important than anything else in the world. So, Zeus turned the brothers into stars. Together, the two of them live side by side in the sky.”

“Wouldn’t you get lonely if you had only one person to talk to?” Aaron asked. 

“Not if it was you,” Erin replied. With that, she picked up the letters and moved them to the desk beneath the window. The two of them climbed into their respective beds and fell asleep. 

Aaron took a deep breath and knocked softly at his sister’s door. He stood there, his heart hammering in his chest. What if she didn’t answer? Aaron took a deep breath. He’d just try again later. Ania was right. What they’d done tonight had betrayed a great deal of Erin’s trust in them. If she didn’t answer, it was because he’d hurt her, just like he always did when he was sober. Aaron leaned his forehead against the door. “I’m sorry, Eri,” he whispered. Just then the door opened and Aaron toppled forward again. Erin neatly sidestepped his falling form but caught him with an outstretched arm. “Eri-” he began. He stopped short, realizing he didn’t know what to say.

Erin gave up waiting for him. She righted him and stepped back. Aaron took it as an invitation and entered her room. Aaron had never been inside his sister’s room. In the pale glow of the first rays of sunlight, he saw the dead roses suspended from her ceiling. A thousand photos covered the surface of the mirror. Upon closer inspection, he found that they were pictures of the Monsters. There was one of Nicky smiling brighter than the sun as Erik pressed a kiss to his cheek. There was one of Aaron shoving Matt, the two of them smiling. There was one of Wymack with his head resting on Abby’s shoulder. There was one of Bee dressed up as a bumblebee. There were a lot of photos of Ania. One of them had been kissed with black lipstick. Erin was the only Fox that owned black lipstick. As Aaron inspected them he was aware of Erin at his back. 

“There aren’t any with us in it,” he said as he dragged his fingers over them.

“Yes, there is.” Erin wrapped her hand around his wrist and guided it to one all the way in the bottom corner. Its sides were crinkled from being taken out and replaced too many times. There was a fold down the center from when it was been folded in half, probably placed between the folds of a book. 

It was a photo featuring a pair of babies. Both of them had wispy blonde hair, most of which had been tucked beneath a little beanie. They were dressed in matching white onesies patterned with little sharks. They were two perfect, identical little babies. Erin laced her fingers through Aaron’s and he suddenly saw it. The two babies were holding hands too. Eyes closed, unable to even see one another, they had taken hold of each other’s hands. Babies didn’t have much strength, but the two of them were clinging to one another like their lives depended on it.  

 “Eri-” he croaked. 

“Yes or no?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said. Erin turned him to face her. She wrapped an arm around him and drew him close. Tentatively, he wrapped his own arms around her. “Erin?” he asked softly. She pulled back just enough to look at him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t better.”

“You were the best,” she said. “You still are.” For once, Erin’s eyes weren’t empty or angry. Instead, they were hard. Resolute. If anyone else had said it, Aaron wouldn’t have believed it. Erin wasn’t a liar. Every word she said, she meant. 

“I can be better,” he offered. He watched as she worked her jaw, searching for what to say. 

“I think I can be, too,” she said. Time seemed to stop. Aaron watched as the smallest of smiles tinged his sister’s lips. The rays of the rising sun filtered through Erin’s thick curtains, illuminating the fading freckles that danced across her face, forming constellations of their own. It turned her pale hair, bound in a messy bun atop her head, into a halo of pure gold. Erin might have been dressed as an angel last night, but she looked more like one now than she had then.

[sae-bae-ran]

Hi!~ Happy Halloween! This request isn't exactly themed to Halloween, but how would Jumin, Saeyoung, Saeran, Vanderwood and Zen react to an MC who has supernatural powers/gifts? Maybe you could make up what kind of powers she has? I feel like it'd be an interesting topic... or I'm just a sucker for fantasy AUs/scenarios... Hope you're having a fantastic day!

Oh, it’s okay! I only used Halloween as an excuse to open my requests, lol. I’ve wanted to do that for a while. ^^ Thanks for your request, sweetie!

Also, a month ago I wrote a scenario about Saeran and an MC who can heal plants and accelerate their growth. Since that is also a supernatural power, you might be interested in reading that post, too -> click click 🌸!

Masterlist 📜 || Ko-fi ☕

Zen, Jumin, Saeyoung, Saeran and Vanderwood reacting to an MC who has supernatural powers

Hyun Ryu // Zen : MC with the power to see the future/precognition

The moment you hear about Zen’s prophetic dreams, you decide to tell him you’re not unfamiliar with the supernatural, either. Especially when it comes to seeing the future, as it is something you’ve learned to do at will, just by focusing on a person’s energy.

The problem is, when it comes to his own supernatural gifts, undeveloped, but still powerful, he’s not quite convinced yet that his is a supernatural gift and not a spoopy coincidence.

Despite this, he’s quick to embrace this part of you.

Not just that. By accepting your extraordinary side, he starts accepting his as well. The prophetic dreams become something he’s proud of, a gift and a responsibility he’s more than willing to take. It’s always better when there’s someone out there who truly understands you and Zen’s incredibly grateful this someone for him is you.

Loves the fact that you both have pretty similar supernatural powers. In his mind, this is yet another proof that you two were meant to be together.

If you decide to share your secret with the other RFA members, Zen will often clog the chat with long paragraphs with boasts about how you two are a match made in heaven. Literally. He’s just that happy.

“Hey, babe. You think my ability to heal up quickly has something to do with the supernatural?” Super excited to be a part of this magical world, all because you’re there with him, too.

Jumin : MC with telekinesis

If there’s anything that fascinates Jumin more than Elizabeth’s kitty antics and the cute faces you make without realizing it, it’s the supernatural.

So once you gather the courage to tell him you’ve been blessed with an extraordinary gift, he’s beside himself with pure excitement.

If you thought he loved just watching you go around and do your everyday chores, wait until the moment he observes with childlike glee and curiosity every movement you make while practicing telekinesis. The extra attention might be embarrassing at first, but it’s all because he loves you too much and wants to be a part of your life, be it mundane or extraordinary.

Absolutely adores it when you use telekinesis to pass him the salt at dinner or to do something else that is a cute and small domestic gesture.

Feels immense happiness and pride that the woman he loves has such powers, but will never boast about it. In fact, he’ll keep quiet about it, afraid that bad people might come after you if word of your supernatural abilities got out. 

Because of this, he never takes pictures of you while you’re using your powers, even though he really wants to. Rest assured, though. If someone hacked his phone and saw them, he’s willing to live with you on a distant island until things calm down and people forget about what they’ve seen.

You can’t find it in yourself to tell him that doesn’t matter. Even if he did take such pictures and they were leaked online, all people would see would be a blur of colors barely resembling a person. But the dork is too cute trying to protect you, so playing along benefits all.

707 // Luciel Choi // Saeyoung Choi : MC who is a shapeshifter

When you shapeshift into Elly, then back to your normal form, Saeyoung’s first reaction is to drop the Phd Pepper he’s holding, his lips slowly parting as he tries to comprehend what just happened.

Shocked. Happy and super curious, but shocked. And once his mind slows down, he feels worry seeping into his bones.

Because of his job as an agent and his crappy childhood, Saeyoung is well aware of the atrocities people are capable of. If someone found out about what you can do, or even worse, if someone from the agency found out about you, you’d be sentenced to a life of experiments on your body that would leave you scarred, both physically and mentally.

Falls on his knees, forehead on the floor as he begs you to never ever use your powers again.

Takes a lot of time for you to convince him that you’ve managed to survive on your own so far, so going forward, especially when you have people like him to protect, love, and support you, shouldn’t be a problem.

Still, he makes you promise you’d be extra careful.

On very rare occasions, he asks you to partially shapeshift into a cat - just the ears. There’s something about playing with your kitty ears that calms him down immensely. If he doesn’t drift off to sleep snuggled close to you, he’ll often pretend he’s a cat, too.

“Sevenny can be a cute kitty, too, nyan ~ See, nyan? ~ Seven-nyan deserves a good belly rub, nyan ~”

Ray // Unknown // Saeran : MC who can understand animals’ emotions and control their behavior/animal empathy and manipulation

Saeran’s always known you are special.

It’s in the way you smile, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear, and the way you carry yourself. He’s known this all along. This supernatural gift you possess, it’s just another layer of uniqueness that sets you apart from everyone else.

He’s in awe every time he wakes up to find you sitting on the front porch, surrounded by many and different animals that seem to be as smitten with you as he is.

“I guess I’m gonna marry a princess. And not just any princess - my future wife is a Disney princess.”

Likes to tease you about it in the most caring way possible. Often calls you “Snow White”, “Belle”, or simply “my princess”. Makes you wonder if he realizes just how incredibly adorable he is by doing that.

Doesn’t mind getting a pet, or two, or maybe even five. With your supernatural gift, it’s inevitable.

Your home is bound to become a safe place for strays, so that at least saves you time you’d otherwise spend looking for a pet that has a higher chance of finding a forever home anyway. Strays are something else.

He might not be able to communicate or understand animals as much as you do, but Saeran loves them nonetheless. It’s his small and unconventional family, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Vanderwood : MC who can teleport to any place in the world she’s seen before, even if just on a picture

Silence.

…

“Bubbles, have you gone mad? Did you hit your head or something?”

Vanderwood’s initial reaction is that of disbelief. Or more like, denial.

He’s seen some secret documents at his job. He knows what’s up. People’s genes mutate and occasionally, that gives them supernatural powers. Extraordinary gifts that should be celebrated, but are instead hidden away in dark laboratories, never to be seen by the world.

No, he’s not gonna let that happen to you.

In a fit of anger, you grab him by the arm and teleport you both to a secluded place in an unknown country. Might be the waves crashing against the cliff you’re standing atop, might be the sun rays warming you up as the sun rises, but Vanderwood calms down.

He understands he can’t make the decision for you. He can’t hide you away in some faraway cottage at the end of the world. All he can do is sit down and have a serious conversation with you.

Lets you know he’ll be there for you no matter what happens. Even if it means laying down his own life, he’ll protect you.

Never comes to this, though. With time you realize there’s only one place you truly want to be, and that’s by his side. Everything else you wanna see in this world, well, you sure as hell can get there by the various means of transportation that already exist. And with Vanderwood by your side, the hours spent traveling are time well spent.

[boutsofbanter]

The Contemplation of a Ghost

A/N: Or as it's titled in my docs, "Patton what did Logan tell you smh." This was supposed to be a short little thing for the Spoopy Sides AU by @beeswaxbuffoon but I got carried away and it's been like a month since I started writing this (life gets in the way too much, I do not appreciate it).

~*~*~*~*

Occasionally, Roman will get…flashes. Sudden images of his own death that force themselves into his head and refuse to leave him alone.

Of course, he remembers how he died. How could he not? It was so recent, his favorite place on earth burned to the ground in a fiery inferno with himself still inside…But it all happened so, so quickly. He’s not even sure how it started. It could have been an outlet with one too many plugs, a reckless stage crew member smoking, faulty wiring in the lights or sound equipment, any number of things. All he knows is that once the curtains had caught fire, the entire stage burst into flames.

Roman remembers screaming, running, the sounds of his friends and coworkers panicking as they left the theater by any means necessary. He had been…trapped? Maybe? Did he…go back for something? Was he hurt somehow and unable to leave? It’s all a blur, a blur of lights, stage makeup, and heatheatyelloworangeredfirefirefireburningburningpainhelppainburning.

Then nothing.

The flashes give him a glimpse into his own untimely demise, and for that he is grateful, but they also have an…unfortunate side effect.

As a ghost, Roman is prone to wailing. Ghosts typically begin to wail, or sometimes sing hauntingly, when they contemplate their death or become particularly depressed. (At least, he thinks that’s what happens. He hasn’t met any other ghosts, but based on what Logan’s told him and the others, what he does is completely normal and even healthy for him).

(Being not-human is weird).

But he digresses. When he first died and was still tied to the ashes of the theater, he was caught in a near-constant state of wailing. There were times when he’d sing songs from productions they’d held at that theater, but he would often become too upset to carry the tune, and he’d dissolve into cries again. Fortunately, once the others found him, bless their souls (if they even have souls…he should ask Logan), he found reasons to embrace his afterlife and move on from his own death. He’s been incredibly happy with Logan, Patton, and Virgil keeping him company and welcoming him into their family of supernatural spirits.

But…he can’t completely forget how he ended up here. There are still times (more times than he would care to admit) when he needs to cry and wallow in his own misery. The flashes bring it on more than anything. When he’s confronted with impossible-to-ignore images of burning wood, flaming fabric, and blistering flesh…he can’t keep himself from crying out in pain and suffering. It hurts his heart, knowing that it bothers the others. Especially Patton. He still remembers the first time he wailed once he moved in with them…

~*~*~*~*

This is wonderful! I don’t have to be alone anymore!

Logan, Patton, and Virgil. My new roommates. A vampire, a werewolf, and a shoddily-put-together lab experiment. Hah, if only my friends could see me now, I’m living the story!

My friends…my friends…I can never see them again…

I left the only place that ties me to them, the last place I saw them, the last place I ever performed, where I rehearsed for hours upon hours, sang endlessly, acted ceaselessly…

It’s all over now…

“Roman? Roman! Are you—”

“Stop! Do not touch him, do not even contemplate engaging in conversation with him!”

Patton? Logan?

“Why!? We can’t just…just leave him like that!”

“Apologies, Patton…you cannot comfort him right now. He needs to do this, it’s healthy for ghosts who died in a similar manner to him…”

Healthy? How is this awful feeling healthy? Oh god, I’m dead, I died, it burnt to rubble and ruins…

“How can that possibly be good for him?”

“It is hard to explain, Patton. Just know that it would be far worse if you were to intervene. Roman must…‘ride it out,’ so to speak.”

“Okay…”

~*~*~*~*

After that, Logan had explained the benefits of ghostly wailing in regards to the ghost’s specific instance of death, and none of the others had tried anything when they heard him wail. Roman’s grateful, of course, he only wishes he didn’t have to hurt them so. And he’ll admit that it isn’t exactly a trip to Disneyland for him either.

Wailing is…well, it’s odd. Once Roman is in the midst of a fit, his mind filters out everything else. Sometimes voices will pierce the veil (ohmygod, he has to remember that one for Virgil later), but he can’t see or hear much throughout. His tear ducts are magically transformed into a bottomless well, it’s a bit ridiculous. The tears will cover his vision and float off the surface of his skin, little ghosts of their own. His stage makeup bleeds down his face, dripping in mascara flakes and eyeliner smudges, leaving his cheeks permanently tattooed with black trails. And his voice: it becomes several times louder than normal, and the wail builds in waves upon waves of sadness, remorse, and longing. It echoes in his head, and while he can hear the depressing thoughts chase each other through his mind, they’re only able to escape and become physical in the form of wordless cries.

Thank goodness for that, he wouldn’t want the others to hear them; Roman himself doesn’t particularly care for them.

It is cleansing, though. He doesn’t see it in the moment (he can’t see anything in the moment), but after his sobs die out and his tears dissipate, he feels so light and empty. In a good way. He guesses Logan knows what he’s talking about (duh, he’s been around for hundreds and hundreds of years, Roman would be surprised if he wasn’t bursting at the seams with knowledge).

Internal-monologuing aside (Virgil would call him a nerd if he’d heard any of that), Roman is currently curled up in an armchair by the window, watching the rain streak the glass. It’s a soothing storm, which he’s more than grateful for. Thunder and lightning make Patton anxious sometimes and no one in this house is happy when Patton is sad.

Roman hums quietly, something vaguely familiar, but he can’t for the life (well, after-life) of him place a name on it. His thoughts branch out randomly. He briefly contemplates floating outside to sing dramatically in the rain, but decides against it for fear of being cliche. He wonders if Virgil and Patton have fallen asleep, they usually curl up and watch movies when it rains, occasionally passing out on the floor or the couch. He mentally notes that they need to pick up more Crofters the next time they go out, he noticed that they only had one jar left earlier and he doesn’t want Logan to run out and have to resort to blood.

Sighing contentedly, Roman decides to go check on Patton and Virgil. He shifts into a more transparent form and sinks through the floor, far too lazy to walk. He finds them curled up on the rug, Patton’s wolf form wrapped around Virgil, who has two handfuls of Patton-fur and his face buried in Patton’s undoubtedly warm neck. Roman chuckles, shaking his head fondly at the pair. Logan must have come by before, there’s a blanket draped over them and the popcorn bowl was moved to the table to avoid being knocked over.

For someone supposedly so stoic, Logan definitely has his soft side.

Roman’s eyes drift to the TV, still on but with the volume significantly lowered. It looks like Patton and Virgil were watching movies on cable instead of on the DVD player, there’s a commercial about some sort of cleaning product playing. Roman grabs the remote and is about to shut off the TV when the scheduled program comes back on and piques his interest. It’s some sort of crime show, he’s not sure which one, but the main character has just been informed of a new death in a series of related crimes.

By a serial arsonist. Of course, what else?

His hand very suddenly becomes less corporeal and the remote clatters to the ground, thankfully not waking either of the sleeping supernaturals nearby. He wouldn’t want them to see him shaking with his eyes locked on the screen. The protagonist arrives at the scene of the murder, a burned-out apartment building. It was supposed to be abandoned, but apparently some homeless man was hiding inside and was trapped when the arsonist set the place ablaze. The body appeared, shoved in a bodybag but still visible. Its face was burned beyond recognition, skin black and bones charred where there was no skin to cover them. Roman’s stomach sunk and he felt like puking, though he couldn’t possibly have anything in his body to expel.

That’s what my body must’ve looked like.

He wouldn’t know, his bag was shut when he appeared in the rubble of the theater.

The I-need-to-throw-up feeling from before surges up, causing Roman to double over and choke on air. He’s full-ghost, he shouldn’t be able to feel much of anything at all, but his skin burns and his heart aches and his stomach rolls and he feels like dying all over again.

A wail rapidly builds up in his throat and he slaps both hands over his mouth to stop the sound from escaping. There’s movement in his peripheral vision and Roman glances over to see Patton shifting beneath Virgil’s limp form, an almost distressed look on his dog-like face. He huffs and then slips into a deeper sleep once again, and Roman lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He can’t wail here, they’ll hear it and startle awake and Virgil will be scared and Patton will be worried and he won’t be able to reassure them and they won’t be able to do anything but watch and listen.

Roman simply cannot do that to them.

Whimpers and sobs try to force their way between his fingers, but he stays firm as he frantically rushes out of the living room and into the basement, praying that it will be far enough away for them not to hear. He’d go to his room (sound-proofed for this specific reason), but he can’t force himself to float up. His body merely sinks into the spacious room below the house, typically used for storage and therefore empty of anything comforting, which further worsens his mood.

Trying to physically seal his mouth shut doesn’t work for long, it never does, and the wail that Roman has suppressed breaks free with vicious revenge for being stifled. Roman cries in earnest, everything hurting so damn much that he can hardly stand it. His body curls in on itself, hands clenched over his heart to keep it from shattering under the weight of how utterly hopeless and lonely he feels.

His vision is quickly compromised by the tears that stream from his eyes and he can’t seem to remember where he is or who he is or what’s happening to him, he only registers suffering.

Then the thoughts make an appearance.

I died like that, just like him, I burned and burned and burned, turned black and completely unrecognisable.

My friends had to see that, my parents had to see that, everyone had to see that.

Or maybe no one did. Maybe I’m just like the theater, disgusting and abandoned, unlovable and meant to be lonely forever. They probably don’t care to visit my grave, wherever it is, if they even decided to bury my husk of a body.

God, I’m so lonely, I’m all alone, and I’ll always be alone. I’m stuck here for eternity, utterly helpless and forever alone…

No one loves me.

I don’t deserve love, I’m just a ghost, a spirit that was never meant to go on existing…

Muffled sounds, they’re drowned out by the voices in his head.

Weak, pathetic, selfish, vain, worthlessworthlessworthless

“...man! Please! Snap ou…”

This isn’t real, I’m not real…

Something wraps around his body, constricting him, trapping him, setting his burning skin on fire all over again. Oh, it hurts, it hurts so so bad.

He’s suddenly slammed into reality. Everything becomes much too clear much too fast, where it was all vague and distant before. Cries turn to screams as the walls of the basement close in around him, trapping him even more than the thing twisted around his body. The boxes shake and the things stacked on storage shelves along the walls clatter to the ground, only adding to the chaos.

The thing holding him captive grips tighter and he trembles because he can feel it with such fucking clarity it’s maddening. He shouldn’t feel anything, he’s dead, he doesn’t have anything left to feel!

It shushes him and he can’t take it, he can’t take a single shred of calm in the center of all the mayhem.

“This isn’t real! I’m not real you’re not real none of this is real I’m not real I’m not I’m not I’m nothing and I don’t exist!”

He shrieks louder than he ever has and his voice echoes, rattling everything around him.

The thing’s touch finally goes away and he screams in horror, seeing himself standing there. Only it isn’t him, it’s his body, his charred and broken body, hardly anything left of the person he once was. He can’t believe that the thing in front of him was ever human, that it was ever a part of the real world, that he was ever a part of the real world.

It jumps away from him, appearing to be frightened, and runs away to the hell that it came from.

He wants to be relieved, but he only feels painpainpainpain.

~*~*~*~*

It’s been days.

Days since Roman had been calmly musing about his state of being and his death before casually floating downstairs to check on his housemates. Days since he’d caught sight of the screen playing some unknown show. Days since he’d seen an undoubtedly fake but seemingly so realistic body, one that was burned to death, trapped in a building much like he himself had been. Days since he’d gone to the basement to wail. Days since he’d been interrupted. Days since he’d felt the worst pain since his actual death.

It was Patton who found him, of course it was. Patton, sweet and innocent and kind, who knew that he wasn’t supposed to touch Roman, but who couldn’t resist reaching out to comfort, to heal.

Roman didn’t blame him, not in the slightest. Patton only wanted to help, how could Roman possibly be angry with him? For caring about him? For trying to help? He’d be a heartless fool to be mad. But Patton didn’t see it that way.

Although, he supposes he doesn’t know how Patton sees it, since he hasn’t seen Patton in almost a week. After realizing what he’d done, Patton hasn’t been able to face Roman at all. He’s sure that Roman hates him, which couldn’t be further from the truth, but no reassurances from Virgil or Logan have changed his mind. Roman keeps trying to corner the stupid werewolf, but he’s staying decidedly out of the way.

Roman just wants to talk to him.

“Still moping, I see.”

“Virgil,” Roman acknowledges. Said being flops down beside him on the couch, sighing as he does so. Roman lays his head on Virgil’s shoulder and he feels a hand rest on his knee in kind.

“You know he doesn’t mean to hurt you, right?” Virgil says softly.

“Of course I know that, Franken-emo. I still feel terrible about it all, though. I just wish he’d talk to me so I could tell him that it’s alright,” Roman laments.

“Hey, I get it. But don’t beat yourself up about him feeling bad. You’ve tried to talk to him and he won’t let you. I love Pat more than anything, but even I can see that he’s being dumb about this. As if you would ever hate him, as if anyone would ever hate him,” Virgil scoffs.

Roman agrees wholeheartedly. Patton’s like a precious puppy, literally, it’d be insane to dislike him.

“Maybe Logan will convince him to actually listen to you. He came ranting into my room last night about how ridiculous and illogical Patton is being about this whole situation. All, ‘what does Patton think, that he can just avoid him forever? They live in the same house! Also, it’s Patton, honestly, he must have lost his human processing skills, there’s only copious amounts of fluff in his brain!’ and blah blah blah.” Virgil rolls his eyes after his admittedly decent impersonation of their resident vampire, and Roman laughs.

“Maybe,” Roman smiles up at Virgil, “Thanks, Virge.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we don’t know if Patton is actually gonna use those big dog ears for something,” Virgil warns, but still squeezes Roman’s knee comfortingly.

Quiet settles in the living room and Roman is relishing the calm of the moment when a door slams open upstairs.

Virgil jumps and Roman can feel his companion trembling from the sudden loud noise. They hear voices, Logan’s and Patton’s, one sounding frustrated and demanding, the other meek and somewhat-protesting. Specific words are not to be heard, but Roman hears something along the lines of Logan forcing Patton out of his room. Then there’s two sets of footsteps---or well, one set of feet and one set of paws---coming down the stairs. Roman perks up hopefully when he sees Patton’s furry legs and tail dragging reluctantly along. He may not want to be here, but at least he is.

The pair comes into full view, Logan’s hand gently but insistently gripping Patton’s forearm. Patton refuses to meet the eyes of anyone in the room, and his ears are angled low in shame and distress, but he’s finally here and maybe Roman can actually get a word in this time.

“Virgil, would you mind accompanying me upstairs? The stitches on your left arm look as if they could use reinforcing and I left my sewing kit in my room,” Logan says lightly.

Virgil’s stitches are fine, Roman’s pretty sure Logan just redid them two days ago, but he nods in understanding and gets up. “Sure, Lo.”

The two head upstairs after Logan sends an encouraging look Roman’s way and a somewhat threatening one Patton’s way, similar to the look a mother sends her misbehaving child when they disobey an order. Roman suppresses a giggle, knowing that he’ll only have one shot at speaking with Patton about this.

Said lycanthrope is hunched over, hugging his arms close to his body with his tail curled around his feet. He looks as though he’s prepared to be yelled at, not wanting to hear it but knowing that he deserves it. Roman softens at the sight of him and sighs.

“Patton, would you come sit with me please?” he asks, gesturing to the cushions beside him.

Reluctant shuffling brings Patton closer to Roman than he’s been in nearly a week, and the way he sits on the couch looks hesitant and tense, as if he’s prepared to bolt the moment he does something wrong. Roman takes a deep breath and weighs his words carefully, “Hey padre, I’ve…really missed seeing your fluffy hide around the house.”

Patton whimpers, “I don’t know why you would, after what happened. Roman, I-I’m so sorry. I’m so so SO sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you or make it worse, I just wanted to help, you looked so miserable crying by yourself in the basement…” he shakes his head sadly, “But that’s no excuse, is it? Logan already explained why we’re not supposed to touch you or interrupt you when you’re wailing or in a trance, I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I did it anyways. I’m…I’m really sorry, kiddo, and I understand why you’re mad. You have every right to be, to h-hate me, and if you want to yell at me I won’t object.”

He looks like a kicked puppy and Roman could almost cry.

“Patton, will you look at me?”

It takes several tense moments, but Patton’s head eventually turns up and his big sad eyes meet Roman’s. He looks scared and regretful at first, then confused when he doesn’t find anger in Roman’s own.

“I’m not mad, Patton. Of course I’m not, what a ridiculous idea. You just wanted to help me, you were trying to be comforting and supportive, how could I possibly be angry with you for that?” Roman’s tone is soft and reassuring. He doesn’t want Patton to think he hates him, that just hurts too much.

“B-but I made it so much more painful for you! Everything started…shaking and it felt so small and dark in that basement. And your face…“ Patton trails off, shuddering at the memory.

“My face? What about it?” He knows his makeup runs and looks positively horrendous (an insult to his skills, honestly) when he’s in such a state, but Patton’s seen that before.

“It was…I don’t know how to describe it. It moved like your bottom half in ghost form, and you, you didn’t have eyes, or a mouth or anything. It was just…vaguely the shape of your head and gaping black holes,” Patton finishes, looking haunted at the memory.

Roman blinks. “Well, I guess the smudged makeup is preferable to that.”

“You have a promising career as a horror actor, Ro,” Patton jokes half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

Roman chuckles, “I suppose I do.” He focuses on the issue at hand again, needing Patton to understand that it’s alright. “Patton, I promise I’m truly not mad. The me when I’m in a trance like that, it’s not really my rational self. I overreacted because I couldn’t think straight.” He was tempted to add that he never thinks straight, but figured it wouldn’t be appropriate when he’s trying to convince Patton that he’s serious.

“You looked so scared when you saw me, though,” Patton points out, sounding self-deprecating, which really doesn’t suit him. Patton deserves to be happy and healthy and most of all feeling loved at all times.

“It wasn’t you that I saw.”

He does the confused-dog-head-tilt thing that melts Roman’s heart. “What did you see?”

A memory comes to the front of his mind and he quickly shoves it back. “Not important. Just know that what scared me wasn’t you, I had no idea you were even there, trying to help. I swear to you, Patton, I love you very much and I could never in a million years be angry at you for anything, especially when you’re trying to be comforting.”

Roman holds his arms open expectantly, hoping he finally got through to him. Patton’s eyes widen and he whines before practically jumping into Roman’s arms. He’s chanting apologies and Roman hugs him tightly, shushing him all the while. There’s absolutely nothing to forgive.

Logan and Virgil returned after a while, and Logan lightly slapped Patton upside the head for being a stubborn idiot. Virgil yelled at Logan for hitting Patton, Roman laughed, and Patton pulled them all into a group hug. Roman couldn’t have stopped smiling if he tried, and he was more grateful than ever that they’d found him and welcomed him into their home.

[yukipri]

@atsuyuri-sama Thank you commenting so I can actually see what the blue checkmarks look like in person!

Look everyone, *points @ above*

(Edit: wow realized that looks awful on mobile, my bad)

Have they turned into crabs yet?

@changes recently made a post that includes this:

We’ve rolled out a purchasable pair of Important Blue Checkmarks for your blog! This is very important! Currently this is only available on web, stay tuned for these checkmarks appearing in the mobile apps. Buying more than one pair of them stacks, up to 24 checkmarks. Also, there is no defined timeline for how long these will be purchasable, or when/if they will disappear or transform or hatch into something else.

So I'm hoping that means they're already planning on running with this, it's a cute and neat way to make money!

Additional ideas:

-Tumblr has always been about personalization and expressing interests. In addition to checkmarks/hearts in multiple colors (even rainbow/other pride colors!) and random emoji, I think it were other symbols that could act as self-identifiers as a way. Like, maybe a paintbrush so artists could go hey I'm an artist! Or a pen for writers, or a moving lil box for gif-makers, a camera for photographers, a cute reblog symbol for rebloggers, a lil shadow for lurkers, etc. Of course no one has to use them and I'm sure the meanings will evolve with time, but it could be a neat way to communicate your identity/what your blog is about, since not everyone checks or has an informative bio.

-In making all these lil stickers available in their store, I think it would be neat if there were occasional free ones too. Like maybe when you first join, you get a "Tumblr newbie!" sticker (which again, you do not have to use, but it's available if you want to). It could be like a "new driver" sticker, a way to say they're still learning how to use the site so be kind! Likewise, maybe another free sticker at your one year anniversary of joining the site. If there was a sticker you got for having an account 10 years old, like "10 year old veteran" sticker, heck I'd use it. I think I deserve a little digital sticker for being on this site for ten years.

-Imagine, also little holiday symbols. Like, everyone gets a free pumpkin sticker in October (but if you want a black cat, bat, cauldron, etc, you pay like $4 each for them). And not just irl holidays too. Like a "Nov 5, 2022" sticker. Tumblr holidays. I think it would be festive.

-We can all have a "sticker book" that collects these, both the free ones and the bought ones, and we can arrange them on our urls as we see fit and they never expire. Since staff said max 24 for blue checkmarks, maybe that's a good maximum for use at one time (seems a bit long, i think 10'd be fine tbh), but we can store them and use them again some other time. We could look through the sticker book and see all the events we've lived through on Tumblr. That would be kinda nice, feel a bit of history.

-Also, a lot of people have commented on my other post how they've been enjoying the new different monthly tumblr logos, but miss ones they like. Maybe make that a paid-for sticker too? Like by default you get whatever Tumblr T staff wants to display, but maybe you want Spoopy all year round. Maybe you want it to be pride month rainbow all year round. Why not charge us a little to buy a "Tumblr T dressup sticker," so we can dress up the lil Tumblr T in the corner of our screens all year 'round? I think people would buy. I would at least be tempted to collect.

-While this post is focussing just on the the possibilities of lil symbol personalizations, I think users would buy all sorts of ways to personalize our dashboards. Staff's already been dabbling in this with the crabs and shitting horse. But like, old X-kit features. Useless things that can make scrolling more fun, more personalized. I may not be very interested in a shitting horse, but I would pay for a little cat to sit in the corner of my dash. Heck, I'd buy toys and colored collars for my little dashboard cat. I would name it and get attached. I would buy it friends. Or a crab-on-demand like atsuyuri-sama suggested. Stuff like that.

But the most crucial part of all of these suggestions: While they can be neat add-ons for us to purchase, they must:

Be entirely opt-in. No one has to use them. You can ignore your sticker book entirely and it isn't that intrusive.

All add-ons are nothing but cosmetic (or mild personal entertainment, in the case of a horse/cat) and otherwise don't impact the Tumblr experience in any way. The only con to not buying or using stickers is that you do not have stickers. It doesn't affect reach, people who have bought these things do not get access to features that should be accessible to all. They are solely for fun.

Anyway, just some ideas, @staff!

I might be more tempted to do Tumblr’s joke blue checkmark…but ONLY if the checkmarks are *guaranteed* to turn into crabs regularly.

In fact, I would prefer just a straight up crab. No checkmarks at all. Two crabs.

In fact, @staff, a suggestion: just sell us random stickers we can have next to our handles. A crab. A horse. A poop. Lil pride colored hearts. A fancy sword. Let us have multiple. They mean nothing, other than a cute visible sticker that everyone can see, that means a lil revenue for you. I’d be down for that!

[ahnsael]

At noon (PDT) I have a reblog set up in the queue. I’m writing this a month before you’re seeing it. I queued it for Halloween because it fits, but...I got VERY uneasy when reading it. Some was a little...TOO familiar.

It starts with:

Irish people; The faeries aren’t real

Irish people; No fucking way will I go in that faerie ring

When you see that, there are two things I should tell you. First, it’s a LONG post. Because while the text above is the entire post from OP, people have...added to it. Added a LOT to it. If you don’t want to read a long post, or don’t want to read tales about...not ghosts, necessarily, but...things...then you may want to get your scrolling finger handy when you see that.

I’m writing this on September 28th because...it may not be a good idea for me to read that post again if I later remember that I wanted to post a warning about it and want to remind myself what I’m warning you about. Not that the post will leave my memory. It won’t. It hit too close to forget, and I’m hoping it doesn’t set off a long wave of nightmares like some of my past personal experiences have.

I know there are things out there that I cannot explain other than to say “ghosts” or perhaps “demons” or “spirits” or what have you. I don’t think any of those words are quite right for the post coming later.

I’ve had experiences, which those of you who have known me for a while have probably read about on here. If not, there’s a brief recap of a couple of my experiences a couple years ago at https://ahnsael.tumblr.com/post/138202074744/so-what-are-the-things-that-have-made-you-believe. I probably told them better on the old blog, before I started over with this one, but...it’ll give the general idea. And there are more that I don’t have in that post. I don’t remember if I’ve told them or not. After reading the post that will be here three hours after this one, I don’t feel up to telling them.

I’m going to have a hard enough time sleeping today (today being a little over a month ago, from the time you read this) as it is.

Because the other thing about the long post that will post later today: to me, it’s scary as hell. Because it doesn’t come across as your standard “2 spoopy” silly ghost story. It comes off as a genuine collection of experiences with things that are perhaps better left un-messed with. I’ve messed with things in the past, and one night it almost cost me my sanity (for all I know, it actually DID and everything since has been a fever dream).

I’m not saying there’s a zero% chance that I would do it again. Some days I feel braver than others. But right now, I’m kinda freaked out.

And it doesn’t help that I live in an area of old abandoned barns, 100+year-old buildings (one of which I work in), and stories of this type brewing under the surface, but never quite spoken out loud. I want to research what may be here, but I’m also a little worried about what I may find out. Perhaps by the time this posts, I’ll have learned something.

[storytaeme]

blood love – day 15

spoopy kinktober drabbles – NC17

➵ Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Kim Taehyung

➵ Prompt: Incest (Stepbrothers)  ↪ content: anal sex, taboo relationship, brief daddy kink

➵ Word Count: 2,788 words

Taehyung had been seventeen when his mother had remarried. It had been a long time coming. After having been widowed for so long, she had met a man who Taehyung had deemed to be equally as lovely as she was—deserving, in other words. They had gotten along well, so well that a year into their relationship his soon-to-be father quickly invited them to move into his bigger house to fit them all.

That had made him a little hesitant—not because of their relationship no, Taehyung loved how smitten they were with each other, but it was because of his new stepbrother. One whom he had never met before and only heard stories of. Kim Namjoon seemed more like a myth than anything, partly because his academics were through the roof while Taehyung barely got by and that he was unbelievably capable of everything if what his stepfather said was true.

He shifted uncomfortably by the doorway, holding tightly onto his duffle bag as his mother rang the doorbell. Seungcheol was a dashing man, that was no doubt, but as he greeted them early in the morning dressed in silk robes and the most brilliant smile on his face, Taehyung understood why his mother had been so enamored.

“Good morning, darling,” he smiled and kissed both her cheeks, taking her bag on instinct. “Good morning, Taehyung, how are you doing?”

“G-good, sir,” he stuttered nervously, bowing.

Seungcheol laughed, “No need for formalities, Taehyung. After all, your mother and I are to be wed soon, you can call me dad.”

Taehyung nodded obediently, shyly.

“Come on in, I was just preparing breakfast in the kitchen and Namjoon should be up shortly. Then you both can meet him,” Seungcheol’s eyes seemed to sparkle in excitement, which bubbled up another nervous round of butterflies in Taehyung’s stomach. He led them both inside the place, a humble abode that had a generous amount of space to squeeze in a family. After setting their bags in the living room, they settled in the dining room as Seungcheol had practically prepared a feast for them. “Here you go, Taehyung,” he smiled, setting a bowl down in front of him. The scent invaded his senses almost immediately, the savory aroma making his mouth water.

“Thank you so much, this is my favorite,” Taehyung beamed gratefully at him.

“I know,” he winked, “made it just for you this morning.” Taehyung hid his blush and moved to dip his spoon into the steaming broth, taking a cautious sip. The flavor was absolutely delightful.

When they fell into light chatter about their daily lives, Seungcheol asking Taehyung and his mother questions about how the packing went and whether they needed anything else, footsteps dropped the room into a hush. “Morning.” The voice was silky smooth, sweet, and had Taehyung tingling to his very bones.

A tall man, taller than Taehyung, stepped into the room and walked from behind Taehyung to the seat across from him. He bowed politely at his father and then at Taehyung’s mother, before directing his attention to Taehyung. “Namjoon, ah, good timing. Please, meet our new family.”

Namjoon was a polite man, a very charming man who had his mother smiling and blushing in an instant. He turned to Taehyung then as Seungcheol and his mother moved to the kitchen to prepare more dishes. “You must be my new brother. Taehyung, right? I’m Namjoon.”

Taehyung stood up and bent down, “Good morning, it’s nice to meet you, Namjoon-hyung.”

Namjoon’s laugh was similar to Seungcheol’s the kind that had his heart calming and beating a little louder at the same time. “Please, I’m going to be your brother, just relax. It’s nice to meet you too, Taehyung.”

Breakfast went by relatively uneventfully, filled with pure introduction with his mother asking plenty of questions to Namjoon and Taehyung eyeing the father and son combination curiously. The resemblance was uncanny. Seungcheol’s dimples seemed to have carry down to Namjoon, his brilliant smile and his undeniable charms as well. They really were alike.

“Taehyung,” his mother nudged him. Taehyung drew out of his thoughts and realized that he was staring right at Seungcheol who looked amused by his sudden stupor.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Namjoon was asking you about your extracurriculars,” his mother cleared her throat, quirking an eyebrow in silent question if he was okay.

He offered her a reassuring smile before turning to his stepbrother. “I’m in student council, treasurer. I also picked up volunteering at the local daycare.”

“What an honorable man,” Seungcheol noted, nodding in approval, as Taehyung flushed again at the attention.

“Yes,” Namjoon said slowly, “I’m sure you have a great variety of interests.” There was something in his tone Taehyung couldn’t decipher, but he chose to brush that aside, instead focusing on the conversation.

When Seungcheol and his mother went out to buy a few necessities to help them settle in, Namjoon was left with Taehyung as he unpacked in his new bedroom. “Sorry about this, hyung,” Taehyung said sheepishly, “you’re stuck helping me on your day off.”

Namjoon chuckled, waving it off as he carried another one of Taehyung’s boxes into the room. “It’s really no big deal, Taehyung. Look, we’re family now, if you ever need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask okay.” Taehyung tended to be a little bit oblivious but his brother’s words seemed to process as nothing more than a sweet sentiment from a sibling, the twinkle in the older boy’s eye indicating nothing of his true intentions.

As the months went on and the seasons changed, the family grew closer and closer. Namjoon lived at home but spent the majority of his time in university and at his internship. Meanwhile, Taehyung was picking up the last of his high school years and graduating with honors before planning out what would be best years of his life. The family was close, they got along well. Taehyung loved Seungcheol’s addition to his family, loved how supportive and kind the man was. Namjoon was the same, always looking out for Taehyung and always seemed genuinely curious about his life and interests.

However, Taehyung was still a boy—a boy with a lot of needs, which was why he was grateful for the comfort of his individual room. He fired up his browser and pulled up his site, punching in familiar key words that he always used. Of course, he was at least smart enough to use headphones to listen into the slick sounds and the filthy moans from the video. With his eyes glued to the screen, he pulled his pants down and cock out.

He had been too deep into the lustful haze, too caught up in the voices in the video to realize his door cracking open behind him. He had his fingers around his cock, pulling and stroking with the  cheap lube he had picked up from the store. It wasn’t until he heard the door slam shut that he turned around, on his desk hair, bare waist down. He let out a small squeak, quickly covering himself with his hands as he looked at Namjoon who eyed him with a raised eyebrow. The video was still playing, but the only thing he could hear was the thundering of his heartbeat.

“H-hyung,” he breathed, hands scrambling for his pants.

Namjoon approached him and placed the scissors he had borrowed from his beloved stepbrother days ago on his desk. He was silent as Taehyung struggled with his sweats. “Just wanted to return these.”

“R-right,” Taehyung stuttered, wondering why in the fucking world Namjoon wasn’t laughing at him or running screaming for the hills. It was then he realized that the video he had looked up was still on the screen—a man fucking into another man. His eyes widened as his hand reached to close the tab.

Taehyung was gay—undeniably fucking gay. But no one knew, not yet. He was planning to keep it on the down low until university when he was surrounded by open-minded millennial. His mother didn’t know, Seungcheol didn’t know, and Namjoon sure as hell didn’t know. Until then at least.

“Interesting choice,” Namjoon noted, his voice sounding more subdued and curious.

The younger cleared his throat, looking everywhere except Namjoon.

“You like boys, Taehyung?”

Taehyung hiccuped, looking at Namjoon warily. “N-no, I was just—”

Namjoon gave him with a stern glare that shut him up. “Don’t lie to me, Taehyung. I don’t like people lying to me.”

He bit on his bottom lip before nodding in embarrassment, keeping his head ducked as he squeezed his eyes shut, readying himself for any sort of repercussion. However, he opened his eyes when he heard the soft thud, seeing Namjoon’s knees on the floor before feeling his fingers on his chin tipping his head up.

“Why are you so scared, Taehyung-ah?”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

Namjoon looked humored. “Why would I be mad? I had an inkling of an idea, but you just confirmed it.”

“How—what—wait—”

“You have a noticeable infatuation with our father.”

Taehyung felt his heart drop to the ground. Being gay was one thing, but having a teensy crush on his stepfather was another. The man was nice and generous, he didn’t look at Taehyung as if he was a mere child but rather a son he was proud of even if they weren’t blood-related. Rather than saying it was love, maybe Namjoon had labeled it rather better. Infatuation.

“Noticeable?” He sounded feeble because his knees had gotten week. If Namjoon had noticed then maybe—

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon said, lips quirking up at the ends, “I’m a little more perceptive than others. I highly doubt father noticed anything, neither does your mother.”

Taehyung let out a breath he was holding, leaning back against the seat. His hand felt clammy and gross and his dick was still hard in his pants and twitching. He wanted to get off so badly, it was even worse now that Namjoon—attractive, beautiful Namjoon—was in front of him. “Okay, and you won’t—you won’t tell mom right?”

“No, love, of course not,” Namjoon whispered, brushing his bangs away from his face. “This will be our secret.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Taehyung breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry you had to catch me like this.”

Namjoon huffed a laugh, “Don’t be embarrassed. And remember, Taehyung, I’m always here to help if you ever need anything.” It took him a while, but the meaning behind Namjoon’s words finally dawned on him, sinking into his soul and lighting his body on fire.

“Wait, are you saying—”

“Only if you want to, Taehyung,” Namjoon smiled. Gentle, sweet. “I’m not pressuring you into anything.”

Taehyung’s teeth caught his bottom lip as he fiddled with his finger in his lap. “I-isn’t that weird though? We’re brothers.”

“Stepbrothers,” the elder corrected.

Taehyung still looked hesitant, wondering if this was really okay. He did want to, but the fear of getting found by their parents made him a little doubtful.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Taehyung,” Namjoon assured him, “just a suggestion. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

His hand caught Namjoon’s absentmindedly, holding onto his fingers tightly as he stared up at the standing man with big eyes. “Wait, I’m—I want to—I mean, I want to try. I just—I haven’t really done anything so I don’t know much and oh my god, I don’t want to mess up and—”

Namjoon’s hand came down to stroke his face as he leaned down to level his face with his brother’s. “Do you trust me?”

Namjoon was kind and honest. He knew the elder would never lay a hand on him without his consent. Taehyung looked up at him, resolved with his decision. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smiled back, “we’re going to have so much fun, Taehyungie.”

The knock on the door brought him out of his daze, fear licking up his skin like the flames of hell coming after him. “Taehyung? Are you in there?” His father’s voice sounded through the barrier. “Dinner’s almost ready, just to let you know.”

Taehyung—Taehyung was rather occupied. Namjoon slid into him again, harder this time, hard enough to jolt him forward against his desk. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed his moan, because fuck, he could feel everything inside of him. Namjoon’s thick length was buried deep inside of him, his body quaking with the fullness.

Namjoon leaned over him, breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “Answer him, Taehyungie. Don’t want to keep father waiting.”

His lips quivered as Namjoon bit his earlobe, nibbling hard enough to have him holding back a pleasured squeak. He tried to compose his voice as best he could but it was proving difficult when Namjoon was grinding against him. "Yeah, I'll be right down!"

There was a silence and the two of them expected their father to disappear then, to leave them be so Namjoon could go back to splitting his stepbrother's ass in two. Taehyung felt so nice and snug around him, his ass fit perfectly around his cock. The first time they did it, Taehyung had wept and sobbed into his pillow over how painfully good it was. By then, Taehyung was already taking dick like a champ. Taehyung muffled his voice into his arm as Namjoon rolled his hips just right to rub the tip of his cock against his prostate, the sensitive spot delighting in the friction.

"Hey, Taehyung," his dad called again and Taehyung froze, and so did Namjoon. All three seemed to be stuck in a standstill for a few moments in which Taehyung's voice had disappeared altogether. However, Namjoon broke the trance by fucking up into Taehyung again, harder and faster this time. There was a thump from when Taehyung bumped against the table, but hopefully it had been small enough to be ignored. "You know if anything's going on with you, you can talk to me right?"

Holy shit. Holy shit. Taehyung closed his eyes and clamped his lips shut so he wouldn't groan over how incredible Namjoon felt pushing up with his hips to reach deep inside Taehyung, how good it felt when Namjoon's fingers circled his cock and began to stroke.

"You've been a little distant lately and I just want you to know that," his father added again.

Taehyung wanted to throw himself out a window. He could barely process two of his father's words when Namjoon's movements were making a jumbled mess of his mind. "Answer him, Taehyung," Namjoon growled, "answer daddy."

His ass clenched instinctively with Namjoon's words. A gasp choking in his throat. "Yeah, I got it." Taehyung called back.

"Anything at all, Taehyung," his father pressed again. His words were an echo of Namjoon's just months ago when he had propositioned Taehyung and the thought sent him down another spiral of lust as Namjoon chuckled knowingly behind him.

"Yep, got it, dad."

That provoked Namjoon to tug on his hair, jerking his head back as he fucked Taehyung forward with his hips. "You call him daddy too, baby?" Taehyung whimpered. "Who's your daddy, baby boy?"

"Y-you are," Taehyung gasped.

"That's right, I am," Namjoon enunciated every word with a thrust of his hips. His cock filled tight in Taehyung's ass. "Daddy fucks you good, doesn't he, Tae?"

"The best," the younger bit down on his tongue to stop himself from moaning aloud again. The last thing he needed was his stepfather realizing that his own son was fucking his stepson.

The next response came from their father again. A sigh. "Okay, Taehyung, I'll see you downstairs." With that, the following footsteps seemed to be an indication for Namjoon to break all his restraint as he began to pound into the boy, skin slapping on skin echoing in the empty room. Taehyung wailed quietly into his hands, his ass felt raw and numb at the same time, oversensitive to every single thrust.

"That's a good boy," Namjoon grunted, "taking daddy's cock like a good little slut."

Taehyung babbled something incoherent, he wasn't sure what he said but his words must've satisfied Namjoon because the boy was telling him to come, come around his cock and all over the table, knowing well that his baby boy would make such a mess with his filthy come. Taehyung was always the compliant one—and so he came and he came hard, a white pool forming on the floor from where he dripped. He leaned his forehead against the desk, breaths weighing heavy in his chest as he tried to keep his wobbling knees up.

Namjoon's arm swooped around him to bolster his weight as his own breaths kissed Taehyung's damp skin. "Proud of you, baby," he whispered.

Taehyung smiled, "Thank you, Daddy."

[jo-the-schmo]

Traveling...Ch.1

Masterlist (you’re gonna need this if you want anything to make sense)

A/N: Hello, everyone! I finally finished the first chapter of the sister series to Breaking! This first chapter may be a bit rocky because I only need it to establish what’s about to happen but I can’t wait to keep working on this! I’ll try to have chapters out as soon as possible and I hope you guys like this! 

Before you read: Remember, this story takes place after the end on the main story AND after the Alex end. A lot of stuff is going to rely on knowledge of the first series so if you are knew to this, I do encourage you to reading the entirety of Breaking first! It is long but it will be essential to understand what’s happening. Thank you so much!

Wordcount: 1315

Warnings: Cursing, that’s all for now anyway!

Tags: (I will be tagging everyone from the original series, tell me if you no longer want to be tagged! I will also be tagging some of the new people who were asked to be tagged!) @midnightokieriete @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demigod-runner-who-potter @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @littlemissshortcakes @pinkyiger7 @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandom-panda-221 @hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-51 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98 @shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space @tayahqr @asprinkleofmermaids @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism @okie-dokie-artichokeme @pandartist @apandawithcookies @kitcatgirl2016

Traveling Back

“Miss Titania, you act as if you have seen a ghost, perhaps my friend and I may help you? What is a lady doing so far out here?” Alexander looked at you with a cautious expression. What do I do? What do I say? I can’t give him the same story, it doesn’t fit! I feel so drained…Think Y/N, think! Keep it simple, keep your story straight.

“I..I ran away...” Nice save, me. Way to use personal experience.

“You ran away? Why on Earth would you do such a thing?” John asked.

“I had to! I... didn’t belong there.” Subconscious, could you maybe stop making me say these things?! John and Alex both stared at you quizzically, you continued. “I was a servant, until I left. I-I’m sorry I’m not explaining myself very well, I’m just…” What the hell is wrong with me? Why is the room spinning so much? What the hell am I supposed to do? How did I even get here? I don’t know what to say! I can’t breathe, I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t! You were hyperventilating, you couldn’t figure out why. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, images and voices started to flash around your mind. A man with dark skin, wearing blue, busting through a door you recognized. He shouts, “HERCULES MULLIGAN!” with a huge smile on his face. You sucked in a huge gulp of air and opened your eyes. Your vision began to stabilize itself, your heart rate calming down a bit. That’s when you took notice of the fact that you were laying down, arms wrapped around you, two faces looking down at you.

“Miss Titania, are you well? You started shaking uncontrollably!” John exclaimed.

“I have seen Myles do the very same thing, my dear John. Perhaps it is more common than what we first perceived.” What the hell was that? It was like...a VHS being sped up...or rewound? That’s when you realized something, you could see it in your head, as if it were a memory. You remembered the children, Alex’s children, being excited about the man in the door. You remembered the man picking you up and running around the room. You remembered it, but you knew it didn’t happen. You don’t remember seeing that man until just now.

“Forgive me...this happens sometimes.” Alex helped you to your feet.

“No, no, please forgive us. It was rude for us to try and pry, but we only wish to help.” John explained.

“Um, this is going to sound really odd but...where are we?” You asked. Maybe I can figure out what year it is.

“We moved out of Valley Forge a few days ago.” Alex answered. Either Pennsylvania or New Jersey. It’s clearly not winter…so it must be 1778? I went back twenty years? That explains why Alex is so young, why John is...alive, and what all these tents are. Living quarters for the soldiers. I’m in the Revolutionary War. I need to figure out what I’m doing, they’re gonna ask me to leave because women and wars, ugh right? I can’t exactly leave them, there was never really a surplus supply of ways to survive as a woman until World War I, again ugh, right? Also, there’s no telling what my existence has changed to this timeline, I could’ve changed the entire course of how his war ends...Alex could die because I showed up...I need to stay and watch after him, make sure everything stays on track. At least, that was the excuse you gave yourself.

“Miss, perhaps you would like us to escort you to town? This is no place f-“John started.

“No! You can’t send me away! I can help!” Why did I say that?!

“How so?” Alex questioned.

“I…I can tend to wounds, a nurse. I am a supporter of the revolution, I would like to offer my assistance.” Alex stared at you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, but we already have plenty of nurses, I believe it-“ Fuck! He doesn’t trust me, say something! Anything!

“I have information!”

“You have what?” John inquired.

“I have…information…I can tell you anything you need to know about the battles ahead.” Anything, tell them anything they need, gain their trust. John and Alex looked at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation. They both nodded and turned to you.

“Prove to us that you have information of value.” Alex requested.

“You are currently moving out northwest, correct?”

“How did…”

“Right now, troops are moving out to stall the British forces from moving up to New York City. They evacuated Philadelphia, while we the American’s persistently harass them to slow their pace. Has General Lee already been sent out ahead or is that still being strategized?” John ‘s eyes fixed on you.

“Alexander…we have to take her to the General…now!” John insisted, although Alex didn’t seem to be listening.

“Who’s the General in charge of the group moving Northwest?” He asked. He was testing you, your eyes slanted.

“Clinton, General Clinton.” You answered, he looked oddly impressed. He nodded, a small smirk on his face as he motioned for you to follow.

“This way.” The three of you made your way out of the tent, untying the string around your neck to take off your cloak and folding it into your arms. Men were filing in from all directions, laughing and celebrating. They were all wearing the same clothes as John and Alex, they were soldiers, coming back to base after successfully cutting down the enemy’s course. Whenever they passed by John and Alex, they’d stare at you with confused eyes. They didn’t recognize me, outside women were not allowed on the base. You were too focused on the stares for a while and didn’t realize the two men leading you were talking.

“When do you think he’ll head back out to England?”

“A few more months at the earliest, he needs to lie low for a bit longer until he can go back. He still has to wait for Cato.” Cato? Why does…that sound so familiar?

“Aren’t I always the topic of conversation?” Another voice interjected, you turned to where you heard it come from. It was the man you saw in that ‘memory’ You could feel the cells in your brain pulsate. His bright smile lowered slightly when he saw you, but it was still pleasant. “Hamilton, you didn’t tell me we had a new nurse coming in!” He approached you and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is-“

“Hercules Mulligan.” You weren’t sure why you said that.

“Haha, it seems that my reputation proceeds me!” He chuckled, his charisma was very apparent, quite charming, you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Mulligan, please, this is not the time!” He said with slight annoyance.

“Oh! That reminds me! The General wants to see you to discuss the next plan of attack.” Herc pointed over his shoulder towards one of the larger tents. Bingo, he must be in there! You gathered up the skirt of your dress in your hands and began to full on sprint to the tent. I need to talk to him first, try to get to him before the opinions of the other two. I need him to trust me. Alex and John called out to you, you could hear them running after you. But they weren’t fast enough.

You skirted to a halt, the mud on the ground pushing into the straight lines of your heels digging into the Earth. You pushed back the fabric of the tent and practically threw yourself into the illuminated interior.

“Mr. General! My name is Titania Taylor, and I would like to offer my self to the efforts of the revolution, sir!”

I am determined, the world won’t know what hit her!