#i mean it depends on the sandwich??? im not a big fan of ham but chicken+salad sandwich with mayo is Good
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what the fuck do people put on sandwiches if not mayo? hello?? you eating dry ass bread with your ham sandwiches??? fucking buttered turkey????
sdhbkdhdsfdsdas
#i mean it depends on the sandwich??? im not a big fan of ham but chicken+salad sandwich with mayo is Good#stareyedraccoon#ask
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Eccentricity [Chapter 5: I’ve Lived The Life And Paid For Every Crime]
Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.
Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Some Kind Of Disaster by All Time Low.
Chapter Warnings: Language, references to drugs and violence.
Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE
Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @writerxinthedark @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @loveandbeloved29
Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜
Easy Questions, Evasive Answers
“So it was nothing,” Archer said, glancing up from where he was tinkering around beneath the hood of my 1999 Honda Accord, checking hoses and belts and dipsticks. “This is pathetic, by the way. That you can’t change your own windshield wiper fluid. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow.”
“I never had my own car in Phoenix!” I objected around a mouthful of a Starbucks pumpkin muffin, my first of the season. And that was true: Renee and I couldn’t afford one. “I didn’t have to learn about car things!”
“No, it’s great, I love it, I have a customer for life.”
“It was totally nothing,” I told him. Meaning the photograph in the newspaper article from 1979. Meaning my paranoia surrounding beautiful, brooding, certifiably lethal Benjamin Lee.
Not Lee, I reminded myself. Benjamin August Hardy, born November 3rd 1893.
“Was it really?” Archer asked, skeptical.
“Uhhh, you were the one who was making fun of me for thinking he might be a time traveler. Or a bigfoot.” Or a vampire.
“Yeah, okay, true...” He let the hood of the Honda fall shut with a bang, then wiped the muddy streaks of motor oil from his hands with a stained rag. “But you were freaked out. Like super freaked out.”
“I was, yeah. But it wasn’t him in the photo. I took another look, there were freckles and, uh, like, uh, some other things that didn’t match up.”
“Huh.” Archer watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I didn’t notice that.”
“Ben laughed about it. Probably thinks I’m an idiot. A stalker and an idiot.”
Archer smirked slyly. “He must not have held it against you too much. I’ve never seen that guy laugh in my life.”
I took a moody bite of my muffin, rolled my eyes, feigned shallow schoolgirl angst. “Trust me, he’s not my biggest fan.”
“Ohhhh, and this bothers you?” Archer sauntered over and stole a crumbling hunk out of the pumpkin muffin. “Does someone have a little crush on the gorgeous, grouchiest Lee?”
“Definitely not.” I sipped my chai latte, contemplative, debating telling him more.
“Uh oh. There’s something else, I can see it. Spill the tea, you walking college-chick-who’s-obsessed-with-fall stereotype.”
“I’m so excited! I’m going to get to see changing leaves this year!” Cacti are majestic, ancient, intrepid, and they remind me of home; but they never change. They’re like desert earth that way, like the ocean. Like vampires, actually.
“We’ll have to do all the Instagram-worthy stuff. Pumpkin patches. Hay mazes. Apple picking...you can even bring that Ben guy if you want to. If he promises not to murder me with his mysterious time-travelling demon powers.”
Oh, kid, you have no idea. “So...I am kind of into a Lee guy. But it’s not Ben.”
Archer gasped, inhaled pumpkin muffin morsels, bent over as he hacked them out of his lungs. “Who?!” he rasped, scandalized, and then coughed again.
I couldn’t help but smile as his name spilled out: “Joe.”
“Which one is that? The Middle Eastern Men’s Vogue model one?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “No, not Rami. He has a girlfriend, by the way.” And has for the past half a century.
Archer wiggled his eyebrows. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”
“Oh my god, please never say that phrase again.”
“Joe is the...” He closed his eyes as he drummed his fingers against the metal workbench, trying to remember.
“The Italian one,” I finished for him.
“Ahhh. The annoying one.”
“He is not annoying! Why do people keep saying he’s annoying?! He’s hilarious, and sweet, and lowkey wicked smart, and, and, and...”
Archer whistled, grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. “Damn, girl. You do like him. You really like him.”
I sighed in defeat. “Okay. I really, really like him.”
“Like him as in would swipe right on Tinder, or like him as in you want to get married and honeymoon in Hawaii and have twelve pasty, angular babies?”
“Oh wow.” And for the first time, I was confronted with the singular enigma that was a future with Joe. Vampires had relationships with other vampires, obviously, even marriages; but that didn’t mean the same rules applied to humans. Did he like me? Could he like me? What would that even look like? How would it end? And it would have to end, of course, eventually. Unless somehow I stopped aging too. “More than just a right swipe. We’ll see about the twelve kids.”
“Just make sure he wraps it before he taps it. I’m too young to be an uncle.”
“Stop,” I pleaded, gulping down my latte, averting my gaze across Archer’s small garage filled with customers’ vehicles, pretending not to be intrigued and yearning and petrified. I couldn’t imagine hooking up with someone as faultless and—presumably—experienced as Joe and being anything but a disappointment. I’ve never hooked up with anyone. At all. Ever.
“What?” he asked, concerned, thieving another piece of my pumpkin muffin. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers like the snow I’ve only seen two or three times in my life.
“Nothing. I just really wish you went to Calawah too.”
“And give up all this easy money from clueless suburbs people like you?” Archer beamed, wily and proud and affectionate. “Not a fucking chance.”
No More Sad Spaghetti
Joe gawked in horror, chomping noisily on his Big League Chew bubblegum, as I unwrapped the peanut butter sandwich I’d packed for lunch. It was mostly cloudy in the early September sky overhead, but he was still wearing sunglasses. He had traded in his ubiquitous U Chicago apparel for a Cubs t-shirt. Squirrels scurried through the bigleaf maple trees that dotted the campus, snatching up acorns with tiny clawed paws, wriggling whiskered noses in our direction.
“What’s your problem?” I asked, taking a bite. “It’s not sad spaghetti.”
He blew a small pink bubble, then popped it with his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s...like...mangled.”
“It got trapped between my textbooks!” I protested. Admittedly, the accordion-shaped peanut butter sandwich—my vegetarian alternative to fishstick Thursday—kind of sucked.
“You can’t eat that. Oh my god. It’s making me so sad. Give it to the squirrels.” Joe pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”
“I can’t tell you,” I replied, tossing my sandwich towards the nearest tree. A hoard of squirrels immediately descended upon it and proceeded to battle for dominance, emitting shrill, peanut-butter-crazed shrieks.
His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because you might not like me anymore.”
“Why would I not like you because of pizza...?” And then he knew. “Oh no, oh god, please don’t say pineapple.”
“I’m a pineapple pizza person.”
“Baby Swan,” Joe said, deadly serious, pressing his palms together. “That is straight up sacrilegious. You can’t put tropical fruit on a pizza. You realize I’m Italian, like an actual Italian. I’m so Italian I’ve killed other Italians for being the wrong kind of Italian. That’s how Italian I am.”
“I feel like maybe I shouldn’t socialize with literal mobsters. It’s unsavory.”
“Settle down, I’m ordering the half-pineapple pizza, you freaking barbarian.”
I watched Joe as he tapped his thumbs against the screen, humming to himself, amused, perpetually buoyant. And I couldn’t picture him as a monster, as a killer: pulling triggers, slitting throats, digging blades into soft vulnerable love handles, feeling for the mortal puncture of a lung or kidney. I asked him, my voice quiet, hesitant, almost lost in the autumn wind: “Did you actually hurt people?”
“Nah. I didn’t have the stomach for it, even back then. I was on the deal-making side of things. The business side. I was a people person, a smooth talker, astronomically charming.”
I smiled, mischievous. “That’s difficult to imagine.”
“Okay, so no cheesy breadsticks for you.”
“I’m sorry, mob guy. Please order the breadsticks. You’re so charming I can’t stand it. My jeans are unzipping all by themselves.”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “So you’ll sacrifice your dignity for breadsticks. Good to know.” He finished typing and laid his iPhone on the grass. “Alright, next question.”
“Does your hair grow?” Joe’s hair—I couldn’t help but notice—seemed longer than it was the day I met him a week and a half ago, disorderly and auburn-tinted, ruffling in the breeze.
“It does, yeah. Hair and nails still grow. So you have to shave, but you can’t get razor burn. And any nicks close right up.”
“Very cool. How often do you need to eat? You know...actually eat.”
“It varies, but generally twice a week.”
“And what kind of animal has the tastiest blood? Besides...well...” I gestured towards myself. “The upright two-legged kind with opposable thumbs and a partiality for pineapple pizza.”
He blew another bubble, then leaned in towards me. And I realized, for the first time, that he had his own inherent, exclusive, totally Bath-And-Body-Works-worthy scent as well; Dr. Gwilym Lee was sandalwood and campfires and log cabins, Mercy was roses and vanilla...and Joe was pine trees, peppermint, cold night air, like all of that eternally youthful magic of Christmas Eve sieved into a bottle. I popped the sheer pink bubble with the cap of my blue pen. Joe asked: “Do humans like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Coffee or tea? Baseball or something hella lame?”
“Depends on the human.”
“Exactly. Same deal for vampires. I prefer bears, especially grizzlies. Lucy and Mercy like deer, elk, moose, animals like that. Ones with hooves. Weirdly, Rami’s favorite is crocodile, I think because it was the first thing he ever tried in Egypt. He doesn’t get it very often, but has been known to buy them on the black market on occasion. Scarlett likes mountain lions. Also domestic cats, but you didn’t hear that from me. Gwil is a wolf guy, but he won’t kill the endangered kinds. Such a gentleman.”
“How about Ben?”
“Ben’s still coming around to the whole eating animals thing. I don’t think he has a favorite yet.”
Joe isn’t a killer, and he never was; I could believe that. But Ben... “Why is he so different than the rest of you?”
“That’s...kind of a long story,” Joe replied carefully.
“It wouldn’t be such a long story if people stopped talking about how it’s a long story and actually told it to me.”
He flashed a grin, revealing white canine teeth filed into points; they were subtle, yes, but they were there. Fangs. I envisioned pressing a fingerprint against them and feeling the flesh split in two, the blood dripping down onto his tongue like Washington rain. And unlike Joe’s skin, mine wouldn’t knit back together on its own. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of tormenting you with the prospect of incredibly juicy yet confidential information!”
I rolled my eyes, sipped my can of Diet Coke, returned my attention to our lunch plans. “So garlic doesn’t repel you. That part of the lore is completely made up.”
“Yup. Thank god. Eternal life would be worthless without pizza.”
“Can you do drugs? Get drunk?”
“We can’t overdose, but we can get the effects of anything we consume. It’s not a good habit to get into though. If you’re nodding on heroin for like four days at a time, it’s pretty easy for some other vampire to find and murder you.”
“So a vampire can be killed by another vampire.”
“Absolutely. Next question.”
I consulted my mental list. “Do you sleep?”
“Yeah. Well, kind of. We nap for a few hours a day.”
“What happens if you don’t?”
“We get bitchy. Really bitchy. We essentially turn into Ben.”
I laughed, chewing absentmindedly on the end of my pen. “So that’s his problem. He hasn’t napped in a century. Now it all makes sense.”
“Something like that,” Joe said. “You gonna come over tonight?”
“I don’t know. I’m supposed to present The Walruses And Me tomorrow and I still haven’t started the book.”
“What do you know, I can tell you all about The Walruses And Me!”
“Seriously? You’ve read it?”
“No, but I can enthusiastically narrate the Wikipedia article to you while you pet Mercy’s alpacas.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
“Terrible for your grade in Marine Mammals. Good for your development as an interesting and happy human.”
“Nice try, but I’m already both of those things.”
Joe reached out suddenly, jarringly, and ran the back of his hand across my cheek. My favorite Lee, I thought, thoroughly transfixed but trying to hide it. Oh no. “Interesting, definitely. But I have this gnawing, distressing suspicion that you’re still working on the happy part.”
“I miss the desert,” I confessed. That wasn’t quite all of the problem, but it was accurate: I missed the heat, the sun, the parched prehistoric air I had always called home. Although I was beginning to find reasons to like Forks, Charlie and Archer and the promise of a Pacific Northwestern autumn; and then one big reason in particular. A very old, pale, chatty, Italian reason.
“A bit of a quandary for a future marine biologist,” he replied gently, perhaps apprehensively.
“I always figured I’d live somewhere like San Diego or Los Angeles or Galveston. Someplace on the ocean, but also sunny and hot and with palm trees. The best of both worlds. But you couldn’t go there with me, could you?”
Oh no.
Oh NO.
Oh fuck, this is definitely a crushing-on-Lee-boys zone.
Joe stared at me through his sunglasses, chomping on his Big League Chew, the corners of his mouth turned up and etching lines like parentheses into his face, pleased and nodding slowly and triumphant somehow. Then he struck out his hand again, this time with his pinky raised like a flagpole. “No more pathetic depressing lunches.”
“You got it. No more sad spaghetti. No more sad peanut butter sandwiches. You have my solemn, human vow.”
He smiled as his pinky entwined with mine. “No more sad anything.”
“So this vampire thing sounds like a pretty sweet gig. No dying, no consequences for a hellacious diet or wild condomless orgies, literal superpowers, perfect hair...why doesn’t everyone get to live that way?”
He shrugged; and there was an unfamiliar, meditative tension in his face. Almost sorrow. “It’s not all pizza and orgies and heroin. We have weaknesses too.”
“Like what?”
“Hey, look!” Joe piped cheerfully, twisting around towards the parking lot. “I think our GrubHub guy is here.”
Bad Blood
I was definitely regretting that fourth slice of pineapple pizza as I waddled into Chemistry, navigating sluggishly around the hulking frat boys and giggling sorority girls and mousy bookish types who lugged around colossal backpacks that were always threatening to knock an unsuspecting passerby off their feet at each unthinking turn. But while I was arriving in the classroom—physically, anyway; emotionally I was standing in an empty field somewhere screaming I cannot be falling in love with a hundred-year-old mobster vampire!! into the void—Ben was a countercurrent darting through the crowds and towards the hallway door.
“Where are you rushing off to, old guy?” I asked him. “Bingo? To renew your AARP membership? To walk vigorously around the inside of a mall?”
Ben responded in that deep, low, humorless voice. “They’re doing some kind of blood typing experiment today. I probably shouldn’t be around for that.”
“Oh.” I glanced over at Professor Belvin, who was indeed hunched over the table at the front of the classroom and laying out rows of Q-tips and rectangular paper cards and alcohol swabs and bottles of clear liquid, whistling what sounded like Time Of The Season.
Ben sighed irritably, rubbing his crinkled forehead. “I already used up all my absences. I’m gonna have to make up a compelling last-minute tragedy. Tell Professor Belvin my grandma died or something.”
“I mean, technically, she did at some point.”
“Ugh,” Ben replied, not consoled at all.
“Wait, I got this.”
I gripped my belly, sank into the nearest chair, and groaned dramatically. It really didn’t require all that much acting. Ben watched with huge green eyes, confounded.
“Miss Swan!” Professor Belvin cried, rushing over. He was wearing khaki pants, a white shirt, and suspenders and a matching bowtie patterned with bubbling multicolored test tubes. Belvin had been Charlie’s classmate from kindergarten through high school, and still palled around with him over Bud Lights and low-quality nachos on bowling league nights. Bowling was, evidently, the sport of choice for middle-aged Forks dads. Also for Welsh vampire pseudo-dads born in the 1400s.
I whimpered in reply.
“Are you alright, Miss Swan?” Professor Belvin asked worriedly. A few students had begun to congregate around the scene. I felt a pang of genuine nausea as perspiration beaded at my temples. You better appreciate this, Mr. Hardy.
“I’m okay,” I said, in my most pained and martyrish voice. “I don’t want to miss...today’s lesson...it looks so fascinating...but I didn’t wash my kale thoroughly last night and then I had a salad for dinner and now I might have food poisoning.”
“You poor thing!” Belvin exclaimed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about class. You can just answer some textbook questions or something, no problem. Please go get checked out to make sure you’re alright.”
“Could someone...maybe...help me get to the campus clinic...?” My eyes listed towards Ben. “Maybe...my lab partner?”
“That’s a good idea.” Professor Belvin turned to Ben. “Mr. Lee, would you be willing to escort Miss Swan to the clinic? You can do an alternative assignment as well. If you don’t mind missing the blood typing lab.”
“I’d be delighted to help,” Ben responded, still puzzled. I offered him my hand, and Ben took it, grimacing as he led me out into the hallway. As soon as we were alone, he dropped my hand and opened up several feet of space between us.
“Thanks so much, Miss Swan, you are a lifesaver,” I said, imitating his morose, rumbling British accent. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Ben. You can repay me in basic courteous conversation and Starbucks gift cards and by maybe not killing me.”
“So you’re totally fine?” Ben asked flatly.
“Of course. Nobody with taste eats raw kale.”
Frowning, frustrated, he started puffing on his vape pen. “You need to stop doing nice things for me. It’s extremely disorienting.”
“This may be difficult for you to come to terms with, but you, Ben Hardy, are worth being the recipient of nice things.”
“No, you still don’t get it,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around to face him in the empty hallway. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Kill people like you.”
The Fire
“Who is the cutest little alpaca I’ve ever seen?!” I cooed in a squeaky falsetto, scratching her wooly brown chin. “Who’s going to come home and live with me and Charlie forever?!”
“That’s illegal, ma’am.” Joe was watching me, arms crossed over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, smiling wistfully.
“It is not!”
“It actually is,” Rami added. He was lying on the grass and gazing up into the roiling, grey, late-afternoon clouds with his fingers laced behind his black hair. None of the Lees were wearing sunglasses now. “A house has to be zoned as farmland to have alpacas, which ours is. Yours, tragically, is not.”
“What are you, a lawyer?” I shot back.
Rami grinned. “I was once. And I will be again, in approximately...let me count...five years.”
“That’s what you want to do with your boundless time and energy? Be a corporate shill?”
Joe cackled. “He tried that already. It lasted about five minutes.”
“Manhattan in the 1980s,” Rami reminisced dreamily. “Hundred-hour workweeks. Cocaine everywhere. What a time to be alive. And I hardly ever left the office, so the sunlight thing wasn’t a problem.”
“Okay, so you’re not in it for the Maseratis or the drugs...”
“I’m going to be an immigration attorney,” Rami told me. “Help refugees apply for asylum to come to the United States. Arabic-speaking refugees, in particular.”
“Wow. I stand corrected. That’s wonderful, Rami. I now feel like a total tool for only aspiring to save sea turtles.” But it made sense, of course. What would any good person spend eternity doing? Making the world just a tiny bit better. I glanced at Joe, teasing him. “And you just study how to get rich, huh?”
“I’m a venture capitalist,” he said brightly. “I invest in small businesses, counsel them, encourage them, connect them with other people in the industry, help them grow. And I don’t need the money, so I take a practically microscopic equity stake. I’m basically a professional charitable donor.”
“And you get to put all of those charming mob-guy skills to use.”
Joe winked. “Exactly.”
“Doesn’t it get old?” I asked both of them. “Being college students?”
Rami shrugged. “No really. The world changes, schools of thought evolve, our own interests fluctuate. Every few decades we circle back and go for another round, fresh degrees, maybe new professions entirely. You learn something new every time.”
“And I’ve been waiting for all my old professors to die so I could go back to U Chicago for fifty years!” Joe shouted. “I’m fucking pumped!”
“But...don’t you already know everything...?”
Joe chuckled. “We’re vampires, Baby Swan, we’re not prodigies. We’re sharper than the average person, sure. But it still takes effort to learn. And we all have things we suck at.”
“Like not being obnoxious,” Rami said, nodding to Joe.
“Like not minding our own fucking business,” Joe hurled back.
“I cannot control the fact that I’m a literal mind reader—”
“You boys behave yourselves,” Mercy called in her relaxed, drawling Southern accent, swinging a basket of carrots and zucchinis and cabbages that she’d dug out of her garden, wearing a long flowing yellow dress and her hair tied up in a scarf. She plodded over in her bare feet, handed me a few carrots, then pointed to the chocolate-colored alpaca I was petting. “That lady there is Athens. And the black and white one by Joe is Augusta. Then there’s Norcross, and Alpharetta, and Savannah...and that real chubby grey one heading into the barn is Marietta.”
“I adore them,” I replied, beaming. Mercy had sheep and pigs and a couple of cows too, all ambling contently around the emerald green field as the first threads of fiery, rust-hued sunset were lighting up the horizon.
“We used to have ducks, too,” Mercy mused. “But they disappeared recently...”
Rami passed Joe a knowing smirk. Joe mouthed back menacingly: Do not.
“Hey mom,” Rami piped.
Joe jabbed an index finger at him. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare—”
“Joe ate the ducks.”
“You bitch!” Joe cried.
“Oh, Joseph,” Mercy sighed mournfully, lifting a brush out of her basket and dragging it down Athens’ fuzzy back.
“I’m sorry! It was one time! I was weak!”
“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” Mercy said. “I’m just disappointed.”
“Mom, that’s worse!”
Rami climbed to his feet and swatted grass and leaves off his cardigan sweater. “Alright folks. My work here is done. Peace out.”
“Oh no, you don’t get to do a hit and run like that, hey, Rami, hey, hey, come back here!”
Joe trotted after him, shouting a litany of insults, as Rami laughed hysterically and careened into the house. Lucy and Gwil were in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies; Scarlett was in the garage changing the brakes on Ben’s Vantage; Ben was noticeably absent from the Lee household and presumably out hunting. It was remarkably easy to picture his fingers closing around bloodied flesh, a wolf’s or a bear’s or an elk’s, lowering his fangs to a pulsing jugular.
“So you’re really into this whole farming thing,” I said to Mercy, looking out over the field rimmed by towering western hemlock trees. I didn’t know exactly how many acres of land the Lees owned, but it was a lot. Mercy adopted rescue animals, donated vegetables from the garden to local food pantries, and occasionally rented out the barn as a wedding venue.
“I’ve always loved it. I had a farm, you know. Before I met Gwil.”
Before she died.
“I didn’t know that,” I murmured, wanting to learn more, afraid to ask, never meaning to pry or offend. “I remember you mentioned the Civil War, and a barn...being...well...being trapped in it. When it burned down.”
Mercy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the polite version of the story, isn’t it?” She set down her basket in the tall grass, tugged distractedly at a dark strand of hair that had escaped her scarf, stared glassily out into the sunset muted with cloud cover as Athens moseyed away. “Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you if you do. But I don’t want to upset you, dear.”
My voice was barely a whisper. “I’d like to know.”
“We had a little farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Mercy explained. “My husband Arthur and I.”
And it felt so outlandish to hear her say those words. Husband. She had a husband before Gwil. She had a whole life before this one.
“He had a bullet in one leg and a limp from a hunting accident when he was a boy, so he was never called up to enlist. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor men they sent to die in it. That’s how it always goes, I expect. And how it always will. We had two daughters, twelve and fifteen. I won’t tell you their names. Don’t take that personally, dear. I haven’t spoken their names in a hundred and fifty years.”
She turned her murky eyes—like homemade bread crust or coffee or the wood walls of a log cabin—to me.
“When the Union Army came through, they were beasts. Men like that...men who have been killing and looting and burning their way across hundreds of miles...all they want to do is get blood on their hands. That’s all they remember how to do. So that’s exactly what they did. They slaughtered our cattle for meat. They burned the house down. And then they took me and my girls, and they...they...well, you know what they did. What men do when they’re monsters. And when Arthur tried to stop them, they shot him in the chest and spit mouthfuls of chewing tobacco on him as he bled out in the dirt. Called him a coward and a deserter. Told him everything they were planning to do to me and my girls. And when they were done doing all of those things, they locked the three of us in the barn and set it ablaze. I was the only one still alive when Gwilym got there. And believe me, I didn’t want to be.”
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, my throat burning for Mercy, for her family, for this divinely kind and benign and tender woman.
She patted my cheek fondly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I got a second chance. Gwilym gave me a second chance. That’s what he does, you know. He finds broken people, fixes them, loves them fiercely. He gave me forever. Two more daughters. And three sons.”
Three sons, I thought. Rami and Joe and Ben. She counted Ben.
“Does someone have to be dying?” I asked her softly. “You know. To become like you.”
“No, honey. That’s just how Gwil does things.”
“But...why? What’s the possible downside? Why not change anyone who wants it?” Why not change someone like me?
And Mercy peered over at me, contemplative, curious, like tiptoeing gingerly over rotted floorboards, like weaving through a minefield. Like she was trying to figure out what I’d already been told.
“Hey Baby Swan,” Joe said, startling me. I whirled to see him waiting with a patient smile and his hands buried in his pockets. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
He led me upstairs to Gwil’s 1960s-style office, where Dr. Lee had cleaned and stitched the tiny gash in my forehead after my misadventure with Ben in the woods outside Calawah University, where the wall above the sturdy oak desk was adorned with a massive painting filled with gorgeous, unfamiliar, inhuman faces. Joe took a deep breath, and then he began.
“This,” he announced, introducing the painting, “is the vampire version of the mob. They can trace their existence back to before the Roman Empire. They find people who they think have potential, have talents. They turn them. And then they offer them a hundred-year contract. You sign it, or they murder you. When your term is up, you get to decide whether to renew or leave. But almost no one ever leaves. After a century of taking orders and guarding and killing, what else do you know how to do?” He pointed to the terrifying woman with long white hair and red eyes. “That’s Liesl. She’s literally Satan, only blonder. The chick with the tattoos is Akari. She can meet a human and tell what powers they’ll have once they’re changed. Very useful, obviously. The dude who looks like Idris Elba is Cato, and he’s actually an okay guy, he’s the one currently assigned to keep tabs on Gwil’s coven...”
I soaked the names in like rain into dark, lush Washington earth as Joe relayed them to me, strange and beautiful names: Aruna, Phelan, Morana, Adair, Zora, Araminta, Honora, Victorien, Rigel, Sahel.
“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the young man standing at the center of the painting, the one with black hair and eyes so light and luminous a brown they were almost gold and a sinister, unmistakable magnetism.
“Very good question,” Joe complimented. “That’s their Al Capone. That’s Larkin.”
“And what’s his vampire superpower?” He has to have one. I know he does.
“How do I even put that into words? It’s more than charisma. It’s slightly less than mind reading. He can see through people, what they want most, what they fear. And he can make them do things.”
I gazed into those omniscient glowing eyes, feeling myself getting caught there, feeling some primal dread swelling in the capillary beds of my heart and lungs and bone marrow. “Joe, I’m thoroughly enjoying this captivating backstory, really, but...why are you telling me all of this now?”
“Because you asked why Ben is so different than the rest of us. This is why.” Joe waved broadly at the painting, at the closest thing his world had to a mafia, to unrepentant killers, to actual demons. “This is where he came from.”
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9.9.16 (first)
4.15.17 (second)
1) What images do you have set for your desktop/cell phone wallpapers? me and amanda at cowabunga bay- me and katie out the car window
2) Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? no- no
3) What was your last text message? "yes it is"- yea but i still need to shower lol
4) What do you see yourself doing in 10 years? I have a career, leaving near a beach, or near a very nature area, and i am married and have a family.- i see the same thing or something like it
5) If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you be? i would be in hawaii or on a cruise.- same lol or with a friend
6) What was your coolest Halloween costume? my zombie costume sophmore year- same
7) What was your favorite 90s show? idk...- i don’t remember
8) Who was your last kiss? no one- Bruno
9) Have you ever been stood up? no- kind of yeah lol, but he said he fell asleep which to be honest that was probably fucking true, because he slept all the time, but he was too much of a pussy to go on a date with me lol
10) Favorite ice cream flavor? cookie dough
11) Have you been to Las Vegas? yes I live here
12) Your favorite pair of shoes? my nikes- either those or my adidas, or my nude heels or my tan flip flops
13) Honestly, have you ever cheated on your significant other? no, never had one- never really had one so
14) What is your favorite fruit? watermelon- same
15) Have you talked to anyone on tumblr that you could see yourself dating/having sex with? If possible? no- no
16) Are you into hookups? Short or long term relationships? no, long term- probably long term in like real real life, i just like people i get good vibes off of tbh so whatever happens
17) Do you smoke? If so, what? no- i have smoked weed before and i’d smoke it again if offered, but im not an avid weed smoker or anything
18) What do you do to get over your anger? i calm myself down- same or i write it down
19) Do you believe in God? idk anymore, sometimes- eh idk
20) Does the person you're in love with know it? no, well I'm not really in love with them lol. i just like them.- i’m not in love with anyone
21) Favorite position? of what?- missionary for now, its the best feeling, especially when i wrap my legs and arms around him
22) What's your horoscope sign? scorpio
23) Your fears? heights, bugs
24) How many pets do you have? What kind? three dogs- same
25) What never fails to turn you on? well i've never had a person turn me on lol. but i feel like making out would probably turn me on I'm guessing?- making out or feeling me up, or just talking kind of dirty lol (but not in a cringy way)
26) Your idea of a perfect first date? something where we are moving and doing something fun.- same
27) What is something most people don't know about you? i had adhd- something i don’t tell anyone, i don’t even write it out
28) What makes you feel the happiest? when I'm with friends or laughing or dancing
29) What store do you shop at most often? maybe tillys? american eagle? it depends... i shop at a lot of stores.- pac sun, lush, forever 21, victorias secret, urban outfitters
30) How do you feel about oral? Giving and/or receiving? I would suck a dick. I don't know about receiving though, i mean maybe eventually... but like I would feel awkward at first for some reason, maybe a little like nervous idk.- i actually like giving, i was actually told the other day that it was like really good, like he barely believes that that was actually my second time lol. and i wont let him eat me out so lolol, idk i feel like it would be so weird, idk maybe i will let it happen eventually.
31) Do you believe in karma? eh... i mean not really, but sometimes it just works out that way. so sometimes i do.- ehhhh in some ways
32) Are you single? yes- yes
33) Do you think flowers or candy are a better way to apologize? flowers lol. flowers are so cute.- i love flowers
34) Are you a good swimmer? sure- yeah i think so
35) Coffee or Tea? probably tea, but i don't really drink either- tea
36) Online shopping or shopping in person? in person, but i sometimes shop online- in person
37) Would you rather be older or younger than your current age? younger of course, why would i want to get older lol?? that means less time to live!- hmm thats a hard one now lol, probably the same age tbh
38) Cats or Dogs? dogs
39) Are you a competitive person? sometimes- same
40) Do you believe in aliens? yes (well of other intelligent life out there, not specifically like little green aliens or something like that haha)
41) Do you like dancing? yes
42) What kind of music to you listen to? all different kinds
43) What is your favorite cartoon character? spongebob
44) Where are you from? henderson/las vegas
45) Eat at home or eat out? both, but lately a lot of eating out cause I'm at college all the time- i like eating out tbh, but sometimes i just really want a familiar food at home haha
46) How much more social are you when you're drunk? i've never been drunk- oh god lol, i am actually a really social person in general, but when i get drunk i am like on level 100 with my socialness and my touchiness and my happiness its really weird. like i am so caring and like i want to talk to people and everything like that lol.
47) What was the last thing you bought for yourself? lush products/food(but food doesn't really count does it?)- these bralettes from VS
48) Why do you think your followers follow you? none do?
49) How many hours do you sleep at night? like 7 to 8 sometimes 6.- same
50) What worries you most about the future? that nobody will love me or i won't find a career that i like.- same
51) If you had a friend that spoke to you the same way you speak to yourself, how long would you be friends? probably not very long lol.- it depends lol, sometimes i’m nice and sometimes im mean to myself
52) Are you happy with yourself? eh, I'm working on it. i really really am.- same, but i have become more happy recently
53) What do you wish you didn't know? idk- nothing really
54) What big lesson could people learn from your life? That striving for perfection/or to look like someone else isn't important. Being the prettiest or the thinnest isn't important. What is important is to be happy and surround yourself with people you like and do things that you like to do. Seriously, just stop worrying what other people think of you, just be you and if that isn't good enough for someone then seriously fuck them. - same tbh
55) If you could live in any home on a television series, what would it be?i am not sure.- full house seems lit lol, and the nanny seems fun
56) What's your favorite Website? we heart it probably or youtube- or tumblr
57) What's the habit you're proudest of breaking? biting my nails, i went through a little phase.- i haven’t had any too bad of habits lately
58) What was your most recent trip of more than 50 miles? wisconsin- probably wisconsin, i haven’t been many places lol
59) What's the best bargain you've ever found at a garage sale or thrift store? This lulu lemon crop top that was $14 dollars. keep in in mine that they are usually like $50 dollars and up.- yesss
60) What do you order when you eat Chinese food? orange chicken and fried rice or chowmein (usually steamed rice now)- yeahhh or NOODLESSS
61) If you had to be named after one of the 50 states, which would it be? Nebraska maybe lol?- yeah lol
62) If you had to teach a subject to a class, what would it be? english/environmental science/well actually dance would be first.- or astronomy or psychology that would be cool
63) Favorite kind of chips? sun chips! or snap pea crisps.- same
64) Favorite kind of sandwich? turkey ham- or just turkey
65) Which do you use more often, the dictionary or the thesaurus? dictionary
66) Have you ever been stung by a bee? no- no
67) What's your favorite form of exercise? dancing- or acrobatics/lyra/ pole
68) Are you afraid of heights? yes
69) What's the most memorable class you've ever taken? environmental science or brooklyn jai's classes- or my pole or lyra classes
70) What's your favorite breakfast? pancakes or waffles with my spreads. certain smoothies too.- ooh yes, pancakes are bomb
71) Do you like guacamole? sometimes- it depends
72) Have you ever been in a physical fight? no, well sort of yes actually. kind of with my cousin lol.- lol same
73) What/who are you thinking about right now? maybe getting some more food and how tired my eyes are.- going to haleys house, maybe getting some food cause im hungry
74) Do you like cuddling? i never had, but i seriously think i would like it.- yes its very nice, even though it sometimes gets hot lol
75) Are you holding onto something you need to let go of? nah- nah
76) Have you ever experienced one of your biggest fears? yes
77) Favorite city you've been to? Miami or los Angeles
78) Would you break the law to save a family member? probably yes
79) Talk about an embarrassing moment? lol i can't remember any off the top of my head. i try really hard to forget them so they don't come up unless i really really think. so i got nothing.- lol NOO
80) Are there any causes you strongly believe in? wild life preservation and environmental type things. As well as like animal sanctuaries- same
81) What's the worst injury you've ever had? pulled hamstring or straining my foot muscle or whatever.- same
82) Favorite day of the week? saturday
83) Do you consider yourself sexually open minded? maybe a little, well sometimes. idk in my mind cause i've never had sex so.- hmm it depends what you mean, i am open to talking about it with other people and stuff like that but i don’t want to weird stuff, i am pretty normal when it comes to that
84) How do you feel about porn? not really a fan to be honest, its kind of gross. but I'm not against it, i just don't watch it.- ehh its okay, i don’t really watch it anymore because it freaks me out a little haha
85) Which living celebrity would you like to know? idk- lana del rey prob
86) Who was your hottest ex? don't have one- don’t have an ex
87) Do you want/have kids? yes i want them- yes
88) Has anyone ever told you that they wanted to marry you? no- no
89) Do you get easily distracted? yes- yes sometimes
90) Ass or titties? ass lol
91) What is your favorite word? idk- fuck
92) How do you feel about tattoos? they are ok- i like themm
93) Do you have any pets? yes
94) How tall are you? 5'6" or 5'7"
95) How old are you? 18- 19
96) 3 physical features you get complimented on a lot? nothing really lol. nobodies complimented me lately. like i don't get many compliments to be honest. usually on my clothes sometimes i do. i got one on my eyes recently even though hater how my eyes are (except the color, but thats not what they were complimenting) but yeah yikes lol. Sometimes i get compliments on my body when i wear certain things? i just don't remember compliments maybe? idk.. cause like barely any from my whole like come up. (but i know i've had some)- i get complimented on my eye color, my stomach, and my ass
97) Is there anything you're really passionate about? dance- being successful, having fun and having experiences, and my acrobatics and dance
98) Do you have trust issues? no- hmm i don’t think so
99) Do you believe in love at first sight? eh, i think there is like lust at first sight lol. but love is something that is gained lol.- nah
100) What are some words that you live by? Why? uhhh- if its meant to be, it will be
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