#i need to exchange them a can of beans so i can sap out their entire vocabulary bcs their knowledge is very beautiful to me in that area tho

[jrueships]

2 toxic mentally ill men saying exaaaaactly to each other

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Rash

It was the Fourth of July weekend and me and my friend Sadie were traveling out of town because our Cheetos flavored Commander and Grief was throwing some sort of rally. We had no interest in being stuck in a city of 600,000 plus people screaming at each other or else sending passive aggressive “apolitical” emails back and forth about parking spaces.

It was time to get out of the city and I told Sadie that I heard about a national park that was worth the run around. She was from the middle of nowhere Indiana and I was from upper New York state where you barely saw another human being in between greasy diners every few miles. Despite the makeup and the heels and the hair product and the suits that our jobs required we were both outdoor girls at heart.

We hopped into my jeep at around six in the morning and it felt like shedding a second skin to finally leave the DC city limits. A tangible buzz seemed to leave my system and we both turned our phones off with a laugh.

“I’m never going back.” I joked and shook my hair out as we opened both windows and felt the whip of wind across our faces.

She glanced at me through the mirror and winked, “don’t tempt me.” We were almost all the way to the Appalachian mountains by the time the sun was high in the sky and I kept yawning despite myself. I was trying to cut coffee out of my diet for the sake of my stomach and my ulcers, but that didn’t stop exhaustion from haunting my every step.

I knew I would probably be back on the brown bean by Monday, but I could pretend for at least a weekend I was going “healthy.” I must have fallen asleep though with my face against the glass, because the next thing I knew we were pulling into a wide parking lot with a spattering of family cars and Range Rovers owned by men who wore rubber toe-shoes unironically.

Sadie whacked me on the shoulder, “you better wake the hell up or I’ll beat you to the top.” She grinned wickedly and we were both scrambling outside and packing our bags to run the trial. There was no helping a competitive streak in the both of us, you didn’t get a high level job in the state department without a little bloody hunger in your veins.

My feet were slapping the dirt path just as Sadie sped away with her brown hair streaming behind her in a thick ponytail. “Better get those knees up!” She teased and jogged up the incline easily.

“Ever hear about the tortoise and the hare?” I called after her playfully, but she was already gone. “Guess who wins!”

The Appalachian trail called the Wellspring Heights was said to be one of the steepest trails in the region, which had sounded exciting up until I actually had to climb it a 40 degree angle.

“Dammit,” I cursed and tried not to slide down the dusty path again with my shoes skidding and small rocks tumbling down in my wake. It was a beige hiking trail that was two-people wide and had dark pine trees on either side that grew at strange angles and collected sticky shadows between them.

The trip was basically a straight line upward and got me panting and straining the whole way. I tried to take deep breaths and thoroughly absorb “the moment” as my stress manager suggested, but my skin began to prickle about an hour in.

I hadn’t seen a human face or a trail dog or even a hint of Sadie for all that time. I was alone.

Being alone in a national park would have been a relief at any other time, I had to deal with enough people on the phone and in-person and on 100-contact forwarded emails. But I was wheezing and my lungs burning by the second hour and still, no one. My sense of unease intensified.

I stopped as I pinpointed the strangeness. There were no sounds of birds. No birds or scurrying steps or even whoosh of wind in the branches above. My eyes went wide and I looked up toward the velvety blue sky. There weren’t any plane trails or sounds of cars in the distance, and on top of that I could have sworn it said it would be a perfectly clear day, but clouds were slowly covering the sun.

They were soft white clouds that simply turned the world dim and mutely grey. And quiet.

“Sadie!” I called just to hear the sound of my own voice. I reached for my phone and realized it was still off and in the car at the bottom of the mountain. “Can you hear me?”

I kept climbing and I glanced at my watch, it was the third hour and we both should have reached the peak of the mountain by then.

Nothing but the overcast sky and trees stood in front of me: faceless thick trees with the same bark and same branches and same scraggly bushes at their trunk. I bit my bottom lip and it felt like when I was a kid and used to see things outside my bedroom window and go running to my mom. I would yell about an impossibly tall man with a long face and sightless empty eyes in the yard.

I would go screaming to her and we would both go investigate with big clunky flash lights and find nothing there. I had ‘an overactive imagination’ she said, I would have to ‘be more brave tomorrow night’ she said. Nevertheless, I wished I could go run to my mom right then.

Only the crunch of my shoes on gravel confirmed that I hadn’t just suddenly lost my hearing. I knew I couldn’t turn back just yet though. “Sadie! We can’t be playing right now.” Had she really run so far ahead and not turned around?

The clouds rippled in a dull gloom and I looked down to see the light shift slightly dimmer. It was as if a lamp shade was tugged down or dip of grey paint spread across the air in a thin film. I frowned at it for a long second.

“Ah!” A sharp yelp came crashing behind me and I turned just in time to see a slim figure go tumbling head over foot down the stony path. Down, down, down with her arms and legs flailing.

She rolled until she was off the path and out of sight.

“What the hell?” I blinked for a few whole seconds as I absorbed that. How had she been behind me? And then I went running for her. “Sadie! Are you okay?”

I practically fell down the mountain myself and jumped over a bush and toward a huge black pine tree with a heap of a person underneath. Her length of long wavy brown hair had fallen loose around her face she lay limply against the trunk, her right arm lay at an awkward angle at her side and some sort of black tree sap or goop clung to her arms and hands.

“Fuck!” I rushed over to her, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Her face was pale and impassive and I swung my bag around to get a first aid kit out. I dug through bandages and ointment and sunscreen only to hear a deep groan.

“Oh God.” Sadie sat up suddenly and held her head. “No, no, no.” She repeated in monotone and then a single urgent screech erupted from deep within her, “NO!”

“Don’t move!” I said quickly and quietly panicked. She inhaled sharply once and held her arm for a moment with an agonizing grimace on her thin face. “No…” She whispered and her head fell forward as if collapsed: a doll with her support taken out from under her.

“Oh God,” I focused on her bent arm, “That might be broken.” I reached for her but she sharply turned all at once away from me and faced the tree.

“Why didn’t you hear me?” She said with her back to me and a new softness to her words. “I was right behind you. Why didn’t turn around?” “You were right behind me? How?” My eyes were huge and I swallowed painfully. “Wait, one thing at a time, we need to check out your arm.” She shook her head and when she faced me again I froze as her eyes stared back at me, dull and empty and she held up the arm she had been clinging to just a second ago. “What do you mean? My arm is just a bit scratched up.” She showed it and it was covered in the same black tree sap, but perfectly straight besides that.

“But I thought-” “I think I hit my head,” she flinched and rubbed her temples. “God, I wish it was quieter, I have the worst headache right now.” “Quieter?” I sat up perfectly straight I reached for her. I would drag her out of here bridal style if I had to right then.

“Don’t you hear that?” We exchanged a very long look and my lips pinched together tightly. 

“No.”

She scrunched her face up, “maybe you should get your ears checked out.” I stared openly at the sap clinging to her skin and it was suddenly very hard to breath. “Maybe…” I looked left and right, “We should get out of here.” There were still no birds in the trees.

I helped her up and when we got back on the path the sun pierced the clouds and a man with his dog was running up the trial with a huge smile. “Nice day for a run, yeah?” I didn’t say anything back, and Sadie sagged against me as I dragged her to the car and we set our course for the hospital. However, when we got in, a steely look entered Sadie’s gaze.

My stomach plummeted cold and I reached for her to help her in, “Want me to wash that off?” I pointed at the sap-like substance.

She simply hopped into the car. “I just want to go home.” I followed in after and tried to stop thinking about the image of the black goop moving slightly. It couldn’t have been moving. I told myself and we started to drive.

----------------

“I don’t need to go.” Sadie was itching her arm and shifting in her seat.

“You just hit your head on the side of a mountain!” I protested and kept my sights set on the GPS and the nearest small town hospital in Knoxville.

“It’s fine, I don’t need to go. Grace, I really don’t want to.” She insisted and stretched her fingers before itching her arm again. “I just need to kick back some ibuprofen and get some sleep.” “No,” I put my foot down and steeled myself to take the next exit for the hospital. “We already agreed on this. I need to get you-” “I said,” she reached over and wrenched the steering wheel from my grip. “I don’t want to.” The wheel kept us going straight and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as my friend growled at me. There was something rough and animalistic about the noise she made and I didn’t look at her- not directly at least.

The black tar tree sap had dried and I couldn’t help but notice it was bubbling slightly. Bubbling like water over fire, bubbling like popping pustules or bursting acne: inky and slick and shifting. I felt guilty, but a primal fear gripped my gut. And I let her take us home.

-----------------

I didn’t see Sadie much after that.

She stopped coming to our weekly drinks after work and the people in her department stopped mentioning her to me. It wasn’t that she stopped coming into work though or even stopped sending the occasional text or appearing at lunches now and then. But it was different, the Sadie I knew was loud and competitive and gave her opinions freely when given the chance.

But this one started to fade, slowly at first, and then I barely could barely pick out her face in the crowd or remember her favorite color or how we used to stay up until 2am talking and pouring chocolate on popcorn and playing mario kart with the volume up high.

Maybe it would have stayed that way, the fading, except that a friend of mine was getting married and I was invited to a bachelorette party. I didn’t particularly want to go because Angela was always a bit of a loose canon and a cheap one at that. She was famous for throwing a party with dollar store vodka and a water slide that she stole from some kids birthday party.

I found myself sitting in my apartment that night, alone, and deciding whether to call out sick at the last moment. However, I had called out of the last three socializing events and I could hear my mom’s voice in my head proclaiming “isolating yourself can’t be good for you!” So I sighed and put on my flats for dancing.

I ended up at the party with my purse clutched in my hands and a whirlwind of faces and names that passed me by and that I immediately forgot. They all asked the same question first: who do you work for? I usually got an approving look when I answered. The night dragged on with booze and cocktails and talk about the economy and bad bosses until it was midnight at some club with dark floors, pounding feet, and bright flashing lights.

I had a bad taste of jack and coke on my tongue and a bubbly sensation in my gut. I leaned on the bar and saw Angela wink at a man that wasn’t her fiance and his friend gave me a look of his own that dipped and probed around my edges.

I closed my eyes and thought of the mountains and streams and my old home with two oaks growing back in the backyard. That cleared my senses for a long second.

When I opened my eyes again something drew my attention. She was moving quickly and bouncing back and forth with a shiny brown ponytail waving in the air like a beacon. It took me a long moment to place her, as if I was moving through a thick smog toward a lighthouse.

And then it struck me: “Sadie…” I said softly and Angela came wobbling up to lean on me.

“What are you muttering to yourself about?” I turned to her with a frown, “Did you invite Sadie to this?” I asked without tearing my eyes away from the woman sandwiched between a tall man with a head tattoo and a pretty Asian girl with stark purple highlights.

Angela hiccuped gently. “What?”

“Did you invite her,” I jerked my chin toward the dancing figure. “Sadie.” “Who?” I pushed Angela away and started to force my way through the dancing, sweaty crowd. Sadie, I thought, the Sadie that I did shots with on my twenty-first birthday and ran around in the sprinklers with in our underwear.

The Sadie that held my hand when I got sick in Nick Weizmann's pool and everyone stared at me for days afterward. The Sadie that helped me pick out my first apartment and drove twenty miles in the snow after a breakup to buy me top-notch donuts.

That Sadie was wearing a long black sweater with bright red gloves, orange sandals, and short-shorts. It was altogether bizarre outfit, but no one seemed to care as she looked salaciously around at the people bumping and grinding up against her.

“Hey,” I forced my way past the head-tattoo guy and grabbed for the hand of my friend. “Sadie, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She cocked her head to the side and her smile faltered, “What?” She called over the music and drew back.

“Sadie!” I yelled to get her attention.

“Who?”

My mouth fell open, “Um.” I paused for a long moment and examined her as people jostled me from either side. It had to be her, no one else had her exact slightly crooked nose and thin eyebrows that made her look like a Disney villain. “Can I talk to you?” I tugged on her and she pulled back. “Back off lady.” She tore her hand out of my grip, but I was still holding onto the tip of her glove which gave a vicious tearing sound as it was wrenched off.

She gasped, “Don’t touch that!” 

Several people fell away as a hand slithered out of the glove and my face went slack. Her skin was still covered with a thick black tar that covered her fingers and wrists. It was spotty and pieces of her pale flesh still shone through, but stripes of the substance pulsed gently in place.

“Ew!” The girl with the purple hair jumped away and Sadie bore her teeth with a hiss.

“Wh-”

She turned and ran; I followed with weaving and diving steps. I was lucky I was still working out as she moved like a bat out of hell. “What happened?!” I yelled desperately, but the back door swung open with a bang and I had to dive into a black alleyway to follow.

She ran back, past huge green trash bins and boxes and darted toward the edge of the alley. I followed with fire on my heels and a desperation nestled in my heart.

“What happened in those woods?” “Nothing!” She cried and it was a strange and angry sound. “Stop following me, creep.” She whipped around as we reached a high chain-link fence that stopped the alley in a dead end.

I clutched her red glove to my chest and I looked closely at the gunk moving on her hand, “What is that stuff?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She itched her skin with a feverish twitch and her eyes darted back and forth like a caged lion.

“Sadie,” I took several soft steps toward her. “Let me help you.” Her grey eyes met mine with a certain whip-like fervor and she licked her lips with a sharp grin. “How? How could you possibly help me?” She took a dangerous step toward me.

“I don’t know.” I said truthfully. “But I’m your friend and I want to help.”

She snorted cruelly. “Friend?” She shook her head, “what’s my last name?” “That’s easy,” I said quickly but then my mouth just fell open. I was fascinated with the growing stain across her fingers and the edge of the tar inching up her exposed neck. “Easy.” I repeated and Sadie bent her chin down as the liquid mapped it’s way up her face.

“I don’t think so.” She dug her heels in before taking off and bumping into me as she sprinted back into the light of the street. I turned to give chase, but paused when I noticed the bits of black tar now dripping in her wake. It rained off her clothes and fingertips and when she looked back at me her eyes were leaking thick inky droplets of it.

I swore, and then swore again. “Stop!” I called and she stood framed in the pale white street light; Sadie mouthed two words to me, her lips forming them quietly and serenely, but with no sound coming out. They were feeble and I had to read them carefully. She said, ‘help me’ and then ran.

Tar rained off of her as I gave chase and she dodged down another street that I couldn’t see. I tried to pursue, but nothing was around the corner- not even the drops of black liquid. Nothing.

I ran and ran, darting between streets and calling her name until I was hoarse, but everywhere was empty. And when I called her phone number I got an answering machine that said that that number was disconnected. I asked friends and family and coworkers about her, but I was told they had never heard of such a person.

And I soon forgot which name to ask.

[eddieeatsass]

A Domestic Mess - Stanlon

Mike Hanlon and Stanley Uris were a power couple; anyone who knew them would tell you such. They were inhumanly good at everything they did, outrageously good-looking, and most of all they were just genuinely good people.

From the outside they seemed perfect, but behind closed doors they weren’t as highly polished.

Stan and Mike were a domestic mess. Cleaning? Piece of cake. Laundry? No problem. Grocery shopping? They’ve got it in the bag. But ask them to put those groceries to good use… and suddenly you’ve got a couple of turkeys running around with their heads chopped off.

It’s not that they were bad at cooking, more just that they didn’t do it very often. They knew how to make the basics. Macaroni and cheese, toast and eggs; they knew enough to get them by. But trying new recipes had never been a topic of discussion within the Hanlon-Uris residence.

Which is why it was so shocking when Stan came home one day with a cook-book in hand and two grocery bags ready to burst.

Mike rushed to the front door, quickly taking the heavy bags from Stan’s arms and carrying them to the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” Mike asked quizzically, peering into the contents of one of the sacks.

“So, I was thinking…” Stan began, toeing off his loafers and setting them on the shoe rack.

“Uh-oh.” Mike teased as he began placing things on the counter.

“We should cook more.” Stan continued, ignoring Mike’s humor. “We need to broaden our horizons, try new things.”

“Since when have you thought that?”

“Since earlier today when Janice told me she’d cooked a three-course meal for her six children and grumpy husband on a whim this weekend, ‘just for fun’.” Stan made air quotes around the last bit, quoting Janice’s own words with a scoff. “Who does that for fun!?”

“Janice does, apparently.” Mike responded smartly.

“Yeah, well as much as I hate Janice’s smug nonchalance, it got me thinking; I want to be able to cook for our family one day. I want to be the one in the office boasting about the ridiculous food I fed my ‘too many children’ and ‘terrible husband’.”

Mike cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face.

“Minus the last part, of course.”

“Mhm, of course.” Mike agreed soundly, nodding along.

“So, I impulsively bought a cook book and all the ingredients for the first recipe.”

“What’s the recipe?” Mike asked, picking up the book from the counter.

Stan shrugged as Mike flipped through it backwards, looking at all the brightly colored pages until he landed on the first page, which featured a large photo of a Green Bean Casserole.

“Baby… you hate green beans.”

“I do not hate them, Michael.”

“Last week when your order from Chow’s arrived with green beans in it, you spent ten minutes picking them all out and individually cursing at each one before you’d eat the stir-fry.”

“That was then, and this is now.”

“And now you love green beans?” Mike asked, cocking his eyebrow playfully.

Stan grabbed a green bean from where he’d begun rinsing them off and brought it to his lips, taking a large bite out of the vegetable while holding eye contact with his boyfriend.

Mike watched as Stan’s face constricted into poorly hidden disgust. Watching his nose wrinkle up was possibly the cutest thing Mike had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss Stan’s nose before eating the rest of the green bean from his fingers.

“Alright then, let’s get to cooking.” Mike clapped his hands together, earning an encouraged smile from Stan after he quickly swallowed his regret.

The recipe took all of two hours to finish, and by the end Stan was ready to admit defeat. Sat in front of them was a pile of charred slop that looked vaguely like it might have once contained green beans.

“It’s a disaster.” Stan pouted from where he sat on the counter, refusing to look at his monstrosity.

“It’s not that bad…” Mike offered, poking at the food with a fork. He hit an air pocket and warm grease sprayed his hand. “Yeah okay, it’s bad.” He laughed, reaching for a paper towel to clean himself off.

Stan looked solemn, head hung low and eyes sad.

“Hey, at least now Gordon Ramsey won’t have any competition.” Mike tried to joke.

Stan’s eyebrows shot up as his mouth dropped open in mock offense.

“Mike!” He whined, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

Mike laughed lightheartedly. “I’m sorry baby. Were you really gunning for his title?”

“Maybe I was.” Stan looked away, his tone stubborn.

“Well then, we’ll keep practicing.” Mike promised, exchanging the humor in his voice for sincerity.

Stan refused to look at him, jutting his lip out farther to exaggerate his pout.

“Hey, it was a joke baby. I swear.” Mike said, stepping between Stan’s legs and tilting his chin up so Stan couldn’t avoid his gaze.

'What can I do to make it up to you?” Mike asked, playing along with Stan’s little fit.

“Eat my casserole.” Stan demanded confidently.

Mike’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, a surprised chuckle escaping his mouth.

“Really?”

Stan shot him a look as if to say ‘yeah, really’.

Mike sighed, rolling his eyes playfully and stepping to the side so he was face to face with their dish. He grabbed his fork from earlier and began digging into the least burnt area he could find, scooping a healthy portion on to the utensil and bringing it to his mouth.

“If I die, tell my momma I love her.”

Mike heard Stan make a noise of resentment before it was drowned out with the sound of his chewing. He quickly moved the food to the sides of his mouth, trying to avoid his tongue, and by relation, his taste buds.

But his mouth still found the flavor, and in a moment of complete astonishment, it was actually... fucking delicious.

“Holy shit.” Mike spoke with his mouthful.

“Ew, babylove, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Stan chastised.

“Stan- Stan this is actually good!” Mike continued, ignoring his boyfriend’s reprimand.

Stan looked unconvinced, so Mike grabbed another forkful and shoveled it into his mouth as quickly as possible, grinning (with his mouth still full) after a few bites.

“See!?”

“Okay okay, chew your food before you choke, please.” Stan hopped down from the counter, standing beside Mike and staring down at the unappetizing looking meal they’d prepared.

“There’s no way this actually tastes okay.”

“Better than okay.” Mike loaded up his fork once again, but this time raised it to Stan’s mouth, ushering him to take a bite. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And Stan knew that was true. No matter how small or insignificant the fib may be, Mike had never lied. Honesty was one of the key pillars of their relationship.

So with brave uncertainty, Stan took the food into his mouth, getting ready to have to spit it out when-

“HOLY SHIT!” Stan echoed Mike’s earlier reaction, full mouth and all.

“I know! We did it!” Mike shouted excitedly.

“Fuck you, Gordon Ramsey!” Stan shouted along.

Mike laughed as he walked across the kitchen to grab a few plates. As he was reaching up into their cupboards he felt a pair of arms circle around his waist and a soft pressure against his back.

“Thanks for doing this with me.” Stan murmured into Mike’s shirt.

Mike lowered his arms, placing his hands atop Stan’s.

“I’d do anything, as long as it was with you.”

“You sap.” Stan smiled, his heart filling with joy.

Mike’s stomach growled beneath their hands, alerting them to his increasing hunger. Stan laughed and pulled away from Mike, helping him with their plates.

“Okay, let’s eat this delicious abomination so we don’t have to look at it any longer.”

[keezree]

He’s All the Rage! Ch:8

(((((((((SPICY!)))))))))))  A large shelf of books came into view in front of you as you blinked your eyes open. Oops! You must have fallen asleep. Looks like that excursion to the human world and the little spat you had with Ripto took a lot more out of you than you realized.

You felt stiff and made to sit up but felt something heavy on your lap. Looking down you saw that Ripto too had fallen asleep. Aw, poor bean. You reached out and gently stroked your hand along his head, the touch made him stir in his sleep but he did not awaken. It must have been harder on him still, not being used to how tiring the human world could be. Though, it had been different this time. A deeper fatigue. He breathed peacefully in his slumber. He looked so comfortable and probably needed his rest so you decided not to disturb him. You recalled the exchange you had before unknowingly falling asleep. He had said that he'd try to be gentler. Would he make good on that promise? I'll have to wait and see, you thought. You looked around the library and saw beams of light shining through the window above, coming in from the wall behind you. They painted large rectangles of light on the dark bookshelves ahead, illuminating the titles through dust filled air. You mustn't have been asleep very long then if the sun was still up. It was quiet in the library and comforting to be cuddling with the horned sorcerer. However, you didn't want to just sit there and wait for him to wake up. Perhaps you'd read a book. You attempted to reach across from you, looking to take a book off the shelf. You stretched your arm out and flailed it, trying to stretch across the gap, but your movement was limited having the dapper dino in your lap. Instead, you opted for one of the books behind you. It was hard to turn around to look at the titles of the books and you couldn't really twist your middle much. You lifted your hands up above your shoulder, feeling for a book. You felt your thumb and fingers pinch around the spines of the books but they were packed so tightly against each other in the shelf, you had a hard time finding purchase. Finally, you felt your fingers slip between the books and you pulled one out. It was much heavier than anticipated and so you had to bring your other hand up to heft it out of its crowded home. Looking at the top and sides you noticed it was pretty dusty. It mustn't have been read in quite some time. The book you selected appeared fairly old. The pages were yellowed and it had a light, sweet, musty smell. Carefully propping the book open on the inside of your arm, trying to not let it fall on the head of your betrothed, you began turning the pages. It was a history book, detailing the chronological events in which the worlds of the dragon realms had been constructed. Huh, this should make for an interesting read. You had wanted to learn more of the history of this place after all. Did the dragons know that Ripto had stolen some of their books? Did they contain the knowledge Ripto would use to take Spyro down? Was it going to come to pass that their own writings would be the downfall of one of their young if Ripto did eventually manage to take on Spyro again? You wondered how he and the others were doing. Did they notice your absence? Hopefully, they'd just forget about you or think you returned home. With any luck, you'd never have to see him again and avoid any further conflict. Turning back to the book, you opened to the middle and scanned the pages, getting a feel for the writing style and pacing. There were some familiar names there- sub worlds of Avalar and its three home realms. There were also a few others that you'd never heard of. A place called Evening Lake with a Fireworks Factory and a Honey Speedway. Huh, so those raceways must be a ubiquitous find around dragon worlds. There was also Sunrise Spring that held a Molten Crater. You wondered if it was anything like Magma Cone in your familiar Autumn Plains. You realized, you must have seen more worlds in the past week or so than you had in your entire life. So much travelling done. Opening to the front of the book, you looked at the Table of Contents. You scanned your thumb down the collection of worlds the dragons had crafted and created. There was one that stood out amongst the others. Your world. The human world. You decided to take a gander and read what the dragons had to say about it. Flipping the page to the section about your Human World, it began... ---------------------------                 Borne from the fires of dragons breath and every element, there came to be the celestial wanderers where all dragons stem from.           From Mars, there came the Peacekeepers, defenders and protectors of our kind. Mastering the art of horn and flame, blade and battle.         From Mercury, the reclusive Magic Crafters, designing and creating the tools and  arcane methods that we use today and will use far into the future.           From Neptune, the Artisans. The muses of dragon kind. Musicians, painters, creative enthusiasts that put passion and the desire to make into the world.         Finally, from Earth, the Beast Makers. The ones who sculpt life from the dirt, fire, air and water.             Of all the magnificent creations the dragons brought to be, there was one that stood out amongst them all. The Humans. ------------------------- You blinked. Wait, dragons made humans? That seemed really unexpected however you weren't sure what exactly to believe anymore. Magic and shit. -----------------------------         At first the humans started off as nothing more than another beast, crawling along and living in trees. Yet with time, they began to learn and observe and create with just as much skill and enthusiasm as their scaled creators.         Dragons began to favour these beings, taking them in and teaching them the ways of magic, the cosmos, dreams and the flame.           They greedily soaked in all that our ancestors were willing to divulge. However, they could not be sated. The humans curiosity and our kinds refusal to reveal all of our secrets, spurned the humans to stand against us.          They grew violent and used their knowledge of magic and the arcane in an attempt to take us down.         Thus, dragons then made the choice that would alter their history forever.         Not wanting to destroy what was so precious to them, the dragons of yore decided to simply erase all memory of our kind.           There would be nothing left to reveal to the humans where we had gone.           There were a few sentimental gifts left.           Carvings, myths, stories and legends.           Everything else was taken with our forefathers as they made to depart the very realm.          Our knowledge, gifts, creations and even their own magic was removed from the humans.          Said magic was then used to tear a rift, a portal, to outside of what the humans may reach.          In this way, no human would ever come to harm another dragon or succumb to the greed that plagued them, forgetting their ill used arts. -------------------- “What!? They stole our magic?!” You cried aloud. Ripto below you snorted in his sleep and stirred. “Huh? What's wrong?” He sat up bleary eyed and moved out from under your book laden arms. You ignored him, enthralled in the truth that was revealing itself before you. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, Ripto peered over your arm, reading along also. ----------------------- A select few humans were invited along. Those that seemed to have been blessed with dragon wisdom themselves, and refused to align with the side of greed. It was through them and their offspring that allowed humans to still remain within our dragon worlds. It changed them however, altering their very cores and making them magic reliant. The humans left behind, the ones whom we had stolen the magic of, were left to suffer in flesh and blood and bone. They must struggle in their primitive ways but it is for their own safety and ours as well. Due to the extraction of magic from them, the human world suffers a magic deficit. It suffers still from what we took so long ago. If any creature in the dragon sculpted lands were to return there, the magic that lives within them would surely be forced out and dissipated in the origin worlds. While portals can be opened there still on rare occasions, it is highly recommended that such an attempt not be made. It is best perhaps to leave the humans in the origin world to believe us to be a myth forevermore. Future generations of dragons will never know the struggle we once had and hopefully find a haven, someplace safe where we can keep all of our magnificent, marvellous and dangerous secrets. There are a few sacred places presently established, but for our safety, these locations shall not be disclosed here. ----------------------------- You felt... Angry? And also let down. This was...a lot! The dragons had created you and then left your predecessors to live without the wonders of magic. You knew humans could be greedy and of course they would have felt left out, not being told everything. They only wanted to know more. However, you could also sympathize with the dragons. It wasn't surprising that the humans would have started a war in order to get what they wanted. Now you finally understood why there was no magic in your world and why it seemed to sap it from Ripto when he arrived. You now knew why you also seemed to be a magical leech. There once had been magic in your veins but the dragons bled it out of your ancestors and used it to flee. Your body remembered once having that power and was trying to make up for generation upon generation of lost magic within it. You could feel your hands gripping the sides of the book tightly, thumbs pressing into slightly crumpling pages. Your whole life you felt that something had been missing and now it finally came to light. While you were cross with the whole situation, Ripto seemed to enjoy this new bit of info. He chuckled and gave you a playful nudge. “So! It looks like I have the descendant of dragon killers as my partner! I knew I liked you for a reason.” You wanted to reprimand his teasing but were too wound up in your frustrations. Granted, you never had the magic yourself to begin with but now knowing that you could have... Ah, well. You let yourself calm down. You could utilize your magic now that you had been in the dragon worlds a while and... Wait... Didn't the book say something about people becoming altered and touched by magic once they entered the realms? You scanned the reading once more and re-read it. The humans that had originally ventured forth with the dragons wound up changing. They weren't the same as the ones who lived in your home world. You hearkened back to the deep, horrible disassembling feeling you had felt when you and Ripto briefly returned home. Were you too affected by these worlds? Had you been changed? The worry of not being able to go back to the human world had played in your mind before but this seemed to solidify that fear. If you went back would it drain all of your magic? Would returning to your world end you? For now, you were content with staying here in this ever spring like world with Ripto. The future, you thought, would play out as it liked. “Hang on let me see that.” You turned, offering the tome to Ripto who slipped the book from your hands, shifting its great weight over into his claws. “Huh, I guess I must have missed this one. It might have something useful in it to stop that dragon.” He began flipping through the book, reading through the writing. Not having a book or Ripto on your lap allowed you to take a much needed stand and stretch. You raised your arms to the ceiling and felt all of your muscles relax themselves. A satisfying pop came from your back and you took a deep relaxing, inhale. You looked down to Ripto who was buried in the book, his brow furrowed in concentration as he leafed through it. He looked really cute wrapped in his cape, like some sort of regal cocoon, you couldn't help staring. His cat like eyes scanned the pages, skimming over the knowledge written therein. You leaned against the bookshelf,  folding your arms about you and resting one foot up on its toes, tucked behind you. You felt your face soften and a foolish smile play across your lips as you soaked in his cute visage. His eyes flicked from the pages up to you. “What's with the look?” He shrunk behind the book slightly, looking towards you askance. You shook your head dismissively and chuckled softly. “Nothing. You're just lovely to watch.” He chuckled and glanced away, avoiding your gaze. Was he embarrassed? Aww.... “If I may, and I promise you I mean it in no foul way, you're really rather adorable. Cute even!” He cocked his head slightly as if he was upon reflex, waiting for you to finish your sentence with a joke. His lips parted slightly, revealing his sharp teeth, his own words trapped in hesitation. He'd heard so many teasing comments in his youth that now as an adult he wasn't sure if he could be sure if what was said was authentic. Were you teasing him? You had assured him you weren't. When you didn't continue with any sort of snarky remark or insult he eased up. “Er...” He lowered his gaze, did he feel bad for doubting you? Or was he still trying to process what you had said as the truth. Perhaps, he thought, he'd let himself believe your words even if it was just a little bit. “...thanks.” His gaze returned to you and he offered an unsure smile. You returned the smile, hopefully, he'd be less suspicious in the future and one day, maybe, he'd take your compliments at face value. “How's the book? Anything interesting?” Ripto looked back down to the book and shook his head. “Augh, anything that might have helped me is probably written cryptically or put in such a vague way that there's no telling what weaknesses they have. All that I've gleamed from this book so far is that dragons exist and are everywhere and I very much hate that fact.” He seemed to be in a better mood than earlier so perhaps you might draw some information out of him without the risk of him blowing up at you. You took a hesitant step forward and inquired. “Have you never ever in all of your life met a decent dragon?” He fixed his gaze on you with pursed lips and cocked eyebrows in an 'are you serious?' sort of look. “Darling,” he laughed, looking back down at the book. “The day I meet a nice dragon is the day I will eat my scepter.” While you doubted all dragons were bad, you knew you'd probably have a hard time convincing Ripto of anything other than his vehement hate for them. “Ahh! There's nothing in here either.” He slammed the book shut and let it fall haphazardly on the floor. You felt that the book, even if it was written by dragons, should be treated with a bit more respect and so you plucked it from the ground, dusted it off and carefully placed it back in its home. He harrumphed at your respect for dragon literature and crossed his arms. “Lousy books... I've found nothing here that can aid me in destroying that purple menace. At least I have my scepter back.” A slight pout sneaked its way onto his face. Even when he was upset and frustrated he was adorable. That fact, however, you thought should remain a secret for a while longer. With his appearance and form, it was probably hard for him to be taken seriously. Upsetting him more was the last thing you wanted to do. Especially since it seemed like he wanted to at least try to be softer. Poor Ripto, you hated seeing him in such a sour mood. Maybe, you thought, you could try cheering him up. “Ripto I'm sure you'll figure out something. Spyro is powerful but he isn't invincible.” You said, kneeling down on both knees beside him. You decided to encourage him despite the fact that you really didn't want anybody dying. “ Oh, I'll take him down one way or another. You can be sure of that!” He pointed at you, emphasizing his intent. That didn't seem to work. Ripto was just as agitated as he had been before, if not more. Even words of support seemed to egg him on. How did you get him out of his head? How could you make him relax? Oh... Oh wait! Perhaps... A playful smile twisted it's way onto your face. “How about we forget about dragons for now?” You slid yourself across the floor on your knees, bringing yourself in front of Ripto. He huffed, his head turned down and to the side in vengeful thought, fidgeting. “Look, I understand you want revenge, but couldn't we do something a bit more fun than sit and plot their demise?” He half raised his head, partially listening. “Like what?” You responded by placing your hands on either of his knees. He stopped fidgeting and looked to your hands then up to your face, unsure. He gave you a questioning look. “We never finished what we started earlier.” You answered, sliding your hands up along his legs, gripping your thumb around the inside of his thigh. You trailed your hands up to his hips, rubbing your thumbs up and then inside the crooks of his pelvis, between his abdomen and legs and then circled them around, stopping juuuust barely on either side of where his member would be. That caught his attention. He gave a little shudder- you'd sent a thrill up through his stomach and chest. He felt a faint tickling buzz go through him as he looked up into your impish smile. “Y-...Ahem. Yeah? What uh, what did you have in mind?” He inquired, but the way he parted his legs a bit more to your touch revealed he knew more or less what you were suggesting. “Well...” You gripped at his hips and brought your face down to rest on one of his legs. You kept his gaze as you began kissing along the route your thumb took. When your lips neared his member you could hear Ripto take in a halted breath. Then, gently, softly, you planted a few kisses along his member, hidden beneath the fabric. He hummed delightedly and reached out to your head, tangling his clawed fingers in your hair. Against your lips, within the fabric, whatever he was packing felt different than what you were accustomed to. There was certainly something there though and Ripto was enthralled with you tending to it. You nuzzled and nipped at it watching him bite his lip as his heavy lidded eyes lingered on you. You kissed up the front of his pants to the button sewn there. You bit at it and the hem of his pants lightly. “ May I?” His smile twisted deliciously across his face. “Oh please do.” He huffed needily. He pulled his hands from your hair and made to unbutton his pants. “Wait! ” He looked up confused. “Start from the top.” You whispered excitedly. “I want to see all of you.” He looked down to his shirt then back up to you. Adopting a delicate air, he slowly, smugly, popped one button after the other open, teasing you with his bare chest. After the first button came undone, he loosened his cravat and untied it from around his neck. He made to remove his cape but you stopped him. “No, it looks sexy and powerful. Leave it on.” His grin stretched even wider and he reached up to pop the capes collar before returning to undoing his shirt. His chest slowly revealed itself to you, his form underneath was the same leathery soft skin, but from his chest down the center of his middle he sported a yellowish underbelly. It stretched horizontally in plates down his front. Before he reached the bottom of his shirt, you brought your face up, impatient, and began kissing from his neck down the front of his chest, chasing after his buttons. He paused before undoing his pants, delighting in you being so taken with his bare front. You looked up at him reclining against the bookshelf, his shirt open, hanging outside of his pants. You kissed just above the hem of his pants, poking your tongue out into a point and trailing it along. He purred in his throat at the new wet sensation. “More.” You whispered your hot breath against his stomach. “Let me taste it.” He let out a lustful huff of air. “As you wish.” He popped the button out revealing a set of three smaller buttons instead of a zipper. After undoing these, he slid his thumbs down the front of his pants, and tantalizingly slowly slid them down to reveal a surprise. Along the horizontal plates, there was, at his groin, a slightly raised bump, rounding up and splitting open between the plates. From between these, a thin red tip protruded. This was, unexpected? But you had no idea what you were in for anyway. Ripto seemed to notice your hesitation. “What's wrong?” May as well be honest. “I've never, well, this is my first time with er, anyone other than a human.” You said, feeling a little bashful. “Well, it's the same for me. Er, w-with a human I mean.” He let out a soft nervous chuckle. “So it's a bit of an adventure for both of us.” You smiled back, feeling a little unsure. Would this work out? Were your parts incompatible? You shook the worry from your head, you didn't want to leave Ripto hanging. “Er, did you still want a taste?” He asked, worried that you might be losing interest. Oh boy did you ever. You smiled mischievously up at him and kissed from the bottom of the plate bump to the top, then, placed a small peck on the thin red protrusion. Ripto let out a soft, needy hum. You trailed your lips along and then, between them you let your tongue come out and lick along the underside. He flinched and bucked his hips at the sensation. Letting out a soft laugh, you reached up and held his hips down so he wouldn't knock into your chin. You marvelled at his taste. A soft, sweet tang. His member was slick with some sort of self lubricant, all along the shaft. You allowed yourself to gaze up at Ripto, his head lolled onto one shoulder, soaking up the feeling. His tongue was poking out ever so slightly between his teeth. Pleased that he was enjoying himself, you decided to give him more. You wrapped your lips along the base of his dick, pressing your tongue into it as you drew upwards to the tip. When you felt the tip touch upon your lips you popped it in your mouth and let your tongue swirl around it. Ripto grasped desperately at your shoulders, claws pinching at them slightly. A low, lovely, needy groan drew itself up from his chest. Enthralled by his vocalized pleasure, you raised your head up to plant a kiss on his mouth. You flicked your tongue out and trailed it across the top of his sharp teeth, brushing against his own. Drugged with lust, he clumsily reached forward and returned the gesture. Wrapping his hands in your hair you could feel his bifurcated tongue slide across yours and lick at your top lip.   You could feel his hands tug at you, imploring you to continue on with your oral endeavours. His hands remained on your head as you lowered yourself back to his shaft. You licked at the tip and planted a soft kiss there. Then, you once more followed along with your tongue. However the distance seemed a little longer from tip to base. You pulled back to look at his now engorged parts. The red tip was indeed just a tip after all. It expanded down, coated in it's sticky, slick liquid, into what you could only describe as a sort of tongue looking thing. It was slightly pinker than you initially thought. It bulged out from the split plates, a thin trail of its own lubricant dripping off slightly as it leaned a little under its own weight, thick and expectant. It was certainly different. Not like a humans at all. It was... It was... Hot! Ripto watched as you looked on at his full member, then asked in a breathy voice. “Well, what do you think? How does it compare?” While he asked, he could tell you were transfixed by it. You bit your lip in anticipation. The thought of having him inside of you was far too enticing. “I want it.” you simply replied, desire thickening your thoughts. “You what?” He asked, either wanting to hear you say it again or not hearing you the first time. “I want it.” You repeated, a desperate tint to your response. A smug approval marked his face as you brought your head down to his abdomen again. You kissed the tip and trailed your hand down, gently stroking him. You then popped the tip in your mouth and took him in as much and as comfortably as you could afford, stroking the rest with your hand. He roared in his throat as you felt his hot member slide along the top of your tongue and touch upon the roof of your mouth. The soft, self lubricated, tongue-like member was a strange sensation but the reaction you were getting from Ripto made you quickly forget any difference. You pulled your head back, loving the wet sensation of his shaft drip along your lips and down your chin. He was already making such a mess of you but it was divine. His claws gripped tighter in your hair as you bobbed your head, taking him in again. It pulled a bit so you reached your hand up and tapped at him to signal him to ease up. His clawed fingers dug in less, but he still pulled at your head, wanting to be deeper within your hot mouth. You complied, wrapping your hands around him, you rested them on his backside and let him guide your head. He rolled his hips forward, trying to savour more of you. He propped his leg up and you tucked your arm in under it, draping his leg over your shoulder. You closed your eyes, listening to his soft, steady huffs of desire as his desperate grip on you brought him deeper into your throat. You breathed through your nose, your hot breath bouncing off of his stomach back against your sweaty face. His pace began to quicken and he began bringing his hips up, urging himself to his climax. You gripped at his legs, covered in a light sweat, as you felt his shaft twinge and throb against your tongue. Both of your desperate breaths mixed and carried in the soft, quiet library, his breathy panting slowly turned into small whines and soft whimpers. He curled over, his head rested on the back of yours as he rode your mouth. You felt his breath spread out in your hair as he moaned. “Hnng! ____....Aw fuck!” His hips bucked up at your mouth and you felt him throb once more. He slid into you with more desperation. You felt his claws dig into your head again as he held gripped onto it. You wanted to tell him to let up again when he called out your name. His voice then tore itself from his throat as he pressed you down, keeping your mouth deeply wrapped around his shaft and you felt a hot, slick liquid paint the inside of your mouth. You felt his grip on your head relax and he melted back against the bookshelf, spent. You propped yourself up on your elbows enjoying the sight. Ripto had a light, satisfied smile playing on his lips. He opened his eyes and saw you staring. Clearing his throat he sat up straighter. “Er that was. Erm.” His claws lifted slightly, reaching for you. You scooted forwards, wrapping your arms around him and tucking yourself in his lap. “Yes?” You asked in a teasing voice. “That was very...” He seemed to be struggling, his mind still thick with euphoria. “Yeeeees?” He gave a satisfied hum and pulled you into a kiss. He held you there, taking in your warmth and scent. You pulled away kissing his nose. “I'm glad you enjoyed it. Next time though, I want to have a turn.” He snuggled against you and smiled into your neck. “Hmmm...Of course.” After a while the two of you decided it was time to leave the library. You entered the hall, trying to skirt around a few servants, giggling foolishly as if to hide your secret. Ripto led you along, stopping every few feet to give you a wonderful, deep smooch. He seemed very pleased with to have you there, somewhat clingy and needy after having your intimacy. The servants who saw you shook their heads either in disbelief at your public displays of affection or in amusement at seeing Ripto in such good spirits. For once you were glad they were afraid of Ripto. They likely wouldn't make any comment on their suspicions. As you wandered along, you felt your stomach call to you. It had been a while since you ate and so you asked Ripto if it was almost dinnertime. “What?” He gave you a cocky sort of grin. “Haven't you had enough to swallow already?” “Ripto!” You scoffed, though you couldn't hide your smile. He cackled gleefully at his words effect on you. “I'll have them cook us up something. Let's go wait in the dining hall.” You went ahead and sat in your chair along the long table. When Ripto joined you, he immediately grabbed for your hand and held it, gazing affectionately across the table, He held it there until your meal was placed before you. You felt a little dissapointed that after eating you'd lose his taste from your tongue. Ah well, there'll be plenty more opportunities after this, you reassured yourself, smiling wickedly.

[franklyshipping]

Mind Games (Part 2) ~ A Markiplier (+Abe) Ego Fanfic

People wanted a part two soooo I thought FRICK IT IMMA DO IT BECAUSE I STARTED THINKING ABOUT A REVENGE FIC AS SOO AS I POSTED THE FIRST ONE which you lovely beans can find here aaaaaa LET'S GO!

What constitutes a little while and a long while, and what even is a ''while''? It had been a while since the little occurrence between Wilford and Abe that allowed Abe to discover Wilford's absolute love for being tickled, but the time that had past is a little obscure to figure out. Of course....anything surrounding an ordered past, present and future concerning Wilford Warfstache is bound to go a little sideways and upside-down. I'll say that a little time has passed....yeah, that can be interpreted widely and well. Anyway, it had been a little while. However, during that time, Wilford had just not been able to keep Abe out of his mind. He was a constant part of his thoughts, in one form or another, whether it be in their little mental conversations, or in Wilford's....private fantasy thoughts; he was very careful not to delve into those when he was around Abe though. He was being more cautious, and for a very good reason. Wilford had a plot in mind....a plot of revenge against his handsome detective.

At present, they were cuddling. Ever since Wilford had first initiated it, it had become a regular thing, and it was something that both men enjoyed very much. Sometimes they would ease into their roles of big spoon and little spoon, but on other occasions there would be a battle that ended up with one of them pouting in the other's arms whilst the big spoon grinned smugly. This time, Abe had slipped into being the little spoon immediately, since he'd had a long day of detective work and needed the care; care that Wilford was very happy to provide. Abe was nestled into Wilford's chest and letting out content, deep hums as Wilford softly nuzzled his head and stroked his arm, whilst his other hand lay limp across his waist. They were atop Wilford's lavish double bed which was perfectly comfy and allowed ample space for lengthy snuggle periods. Abe was smiling gently.....things were good.

Abe had had Wilford on HIS mind too. In tickly ways and ways of communication of course, but....in other ways too. Closer ways. Ways that he didn't dare let slip into his mind for fear of embarrassment and humiliating rejection...at least, he kept them hidden for the time being. Right now he was just enjoying the treatment Wilford was giving him, which the moustached man teasingly commented on.

'Your little noises are ever so sweet, methinks I have the magic touch!'

Abe chuckled softly and glanced up at Wilford, there was playfulness dancing in his eyes.

'Oh you certainly do, undoubtedly.'

Abe's voice was smooth and flirty, which made Wilford grin excitedly; they always playfully flirted with one another and it was the most delightful game. The exchanging of smirks, winks, eyebrow raises, purrs and euphemisms were things Wilford always looked forward to doing with Abe. Wilford always felt jittery during those moments, as he felt now as he replied.

'Oh how sweet of you to say so! Say, do you need any magic touches anywhere else?'

Abe very nearly blushed and giggled at that, and he cursed himself for being such a sap to flirting. He composed himself though, despite Wilford's cheeky grin and glinting eyes, and nibbled his bottom lip whilst humming in thought. Wilford couldn't help but let his gaze fall to Abe lips....my oh my did they look soft-SNAP OUTTA IT WARFY JEEZ! Wilford yelled to himself in is head, which thankfully Abe didn't pick up on since he was too busy brainstorming the perfect reply. Wilford's breath hitched a little when he saw a sultry smile slip onto Abe's lips.

'In all honesty, everywhere aches, but especially between my-'

'WOAH THERE YA DIRTY SCAMP!'

Abe was already snickering as Wilford interrupted him dramatically...but then he squeaked, and couldn't stop his giggling, since Wilford had decided to poke him in the side as an extra measure to make sure he didn't finish his naughty sentence. Lets just say....the cheeky, playful aura that was in the atmosphere increased ten-fold in the following few seconds as Wilford processed what had just happened. Abe was tense, and his side was a little tingly....he watched Wilford with trepidation. He gulped when the moustached man developed the MOST excited smirk.

'My.....my......my. Now isn't this just perfect.'

Amidst their flirtations, Wilford had practically forgotten his plan for trapping Abe at his chest and tickling him to pieces as his revenge. It seemed fate wished to jog his memory. Abe let out an, incredibly masculine sounding, yelp when Wilford went to grab at his arms....but he was a fighter. Wilford grunted and growled as he started wrestling Abe, using all his limbs to combat Abe's passionate struggles.

'W-Wilford-wilfORD LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS!!'

Abe yelled, heart pounding as Wilford managed to straddle his legs....now he had the perfect vantage point for getting Abe well and truly pinned down. Abe was pushing at him with all his might, but his cheeks were getting hotter and hotter at the thought of what would be in store if Wilford pinned him-

*I think you mean WHEN I pin you.*

Abe gasped at the growl that resonated in his mind, and shuddered when he saw the most feral, determined expression on Wilford's face; soon enough, Wilford had Abe's forearms pinned at either side of his head. Both of them were softly panting, it had been quite the battle. Despite his slight lack of breath, Abe couldn't help but try to save himself.

'Wilford....W-Wilfy, p-please let me go p-please!'

Wilford blinked a few times in genuine surprise.....was Abe ACTUALLY begging? Wilford let out an aghast little laugh as he replied.

'Begging when I haven't even laid a fingertip on you....you must be ever so ticklish.'

Abe shuddered when that damned words rolled off Wilford's tongue, and he bashfully let himself nod; he knew that only denying it would make him feel unbelievably flustered. He tensed and exhaled shakily when Wilford leant down, going nose to nose with him, and their eyes locked as he purred.

'Now you'll get to know how I felt.....however, I think you'll find me far less merciful that your gentle, kind self.'

Abe's eyes widened.....from his own perspective he DEFINATELY hadn't been gentle or kind when he'd tickled Wilford. Oh boy was he fucked. He flinched and gasped when Wilford snapped his fingers, thus making cuffs appear around Abe's wrists that affixed them to the headboard of the bed. He tugged. Strong. Unbreakable. Abe had no chance of escape. So Wilford gleefully began.

'WILFOHORD! Pleasedon'tdohothihis! Pleheease stahap stapstapstap behefore ihit gohoes too fahar!'

Wilford paid little heed to his words as he let his deft fingers scratch and scribble at his sides, which produced the most wonderful initial squeal before a stream of deep, beautiful giggles filled the room. Wilford couldn't stop smirking as he continued to cheekily flirt amidst his onslaught.

'Goodness me....what deep, sexy giggles you have detective....'

Abe thanked his lucky stars for his manly facial hair because it was, for now, covering the pink hue on his cheeks. Wilford's scribbling was making him wriggle and roll from side to side, and all he could think about was how it was imperative that he didn't let Wilford get the upper hand completely.

'N-Nahahat ahas s-sehexy ahas y-yohohour squeheheaky behegging!'

Wilford was immediately taken aback, blushing deeply as he was suddenly reminded of when he'd been on the receiving end....oh how dare he. How DARE Abe be so bold and cheeky. Wilford managed to bring himself out of his moment of embarrassment, and Abe gulped when he realised that he had probably just made the dumbest decision of his entire career, and indeed life.

'Sorry....what was that?'

Wilford's voice went so deep and so slow that it momentarily hypnotised Abe with terror; but don't worry, for a mere second later the detective had let out a shriek of mirth when Wilford's scratching landed furiously at his shirt covered stomach.

'AHAHA NAHAHAHTHIHING OHOMYGAHAD NAHAHATHIHING!'

Abe's laughter was the definition of booming as its volume very much filled the room; Wilford grinned, finding the fact that Abe was very sensitive on his stomach extremely endearing. He let his fingers dig into the chubby flesh a little, and Wilford cocked his head to the side in mock confusion as he replied.

'What was that? Can ya repeat that for me sweetcheeks?'

Sweetcheeks was the most appropriate nickname now since Abe's powerful blush had surpassed his facial hair and shone like a beacon of flusteredness from his face. Abe had tears brimming in his eyes as he thrashed and bucked, gazing at Wilford desperately.

'ITWASNAHATHING PLEHEHEASE IHI'M SAHAHARRY!!'

At seeing the man's desperation Wilford relented his rougher onslaught, thus sending waves of relief through Abe's nervous system as the torture subsided; though he shivered when Wilford chuckled.

'That's what I thought.'

Abe couldn't bare to look at Wilford's smugness as he caught his breath, but then he tensed when he felt Wilford pushing up his shirt and the detective fully prepared himself for Wilford's drilling digits once more.....but.....harshness was not what Wilford provided. Instead, Abe found himself shivering and giggling as Wilford half-traced and half-rubbed his slightly chubby belly, and not only was it tickly but it was also extremely relaxing.

'Wh-whahat a-a-ahare yohou doing?'

Abe stuttered, tentatively looking up at Wilford who merely grinned playfully.

'Just giving you a little kindness before I go back to torturing you! I must say, your torso is most magnificent with masculine energy and feel, and it is delightfully soft to the touch...'

When Wilford trailed off, Abe felt breathless.....that....those words....actually really meant a lot to him. Abe had forgotten how self conscious he usually was of his stomach, because of it's squishiness and hairiness, but feeling Wilford's teasy, unwavering touch made all that insecurity absolutely fuck right off. Wilford's soft fingers eagerly stroked and ran through the dark hair, all the way from his waist, up his wide happy trail, over his navel, and above it where the hair swirled in all sorts of different directions. Abe had often seen it as....unsightly, to put it gently, but Wilford thought it was marvellously beautiful.

'I-.....I....th-thahank yohou....'

Wilford's gaze flicked back from Abe's tummy to his face, and his very core melted when he saw how bashful and happy he was from this delicate treatment. Wilford had sensed the insecurity that Abe felt, but had also felt it diminish when he'd started touching him....and Wilford was overjoyed that HE was the one to make Abe feel so comfortable in himself. He suddenly smiled mischievously, leaning down, and he started to peck gentle kisses over the beautiful belly before him.

'You're most welcome....now, will you help me out and mayhaps tell me where else you're ticklish?'

Wilford's voice had a gentle, playful lilt to it that made Abe giggle more, or perhaps it was the teasy kissing that did that.....either way, Abe was encased in giggles. The detective nibbled his bottom lip, and stammered back just as playfully.

'N-Nohohowhehere....'

Wilford raised a sudden eyebrow as he flicked his gaze up to Abe, administering a kiss just above his belly button as he whispered.

'Oh.....are you quite sure darling?'

Abe let out a little squeak at the navel kiss, and despite knowing what his fate would be, he nodded as he replied.

'Y-Y-Yehehes yehehes!'

Abe tried to sound imploring and genuine....but really, who could possibly believe that? Wilford certainly didn't as he leant away from Abe's stomach, just so he could rear up and lean right over Abe, so he could add a little more tension. Needless to say, Abe tensed up greatly when Wilford replied in a teasing purr.

'Oh really? So if I went for your knees and cute feet you wouldn't react at all?'

Mortification. That was the expression that spread across Abe's face right now. He was in complete shock and starting to shiver at the mere mention of those ticklish spots, how the hell had Wilford even known? He'd never told him, hell Abe had never told ANYBODY or even let himself let on about those weak spots-oh. Of course. The thing that had started this whole chain of events in the first place. Damned mind-reading. Wilford smirked as he shuffled down Abe's body and turned his back on him, whilst Abe started giggling in terrified anticipation.

'W-Wihilford w-wahait waitwaitwait c-c'mohon we can work thihis out like g-gentlem-EHEHEHEN!!' 

There were two sets of laughter. One was Wilford's gleeful, over-the-top attempt at a villainous laugh, whilst Abe's was incredibly frantic and for once....beautifully high pitched; it was out of control, and Wilford thought it was perfect. Wilford felt it prudent to say so to Abe as he mercilessly, and relatively harshly, scratched behind his knees.

'Oh what beautiful, desperate laughter you have! Tickle tickle tickle Abey-boo!'

Abe tossed his head from side to side, as if he was trying to impair his own hearing so he didn't have to listen to Wilford's flustering teasing. He heard it well enough though, as well as Wilford's own laughter...which Abe felt himself focus on. Although it was intended to be comedic, Abe found his mind focusing on it and finding it really very cute and nice. Did Abe express this in a kind way though....noooope. 

'FAHAHAHAHACK OHOHOHOHOHOFF!!'

Abe cried out, making Wilford gasp indignantly and start pinching the backs of his knees as a little punishment. Well, it was little from Wilford's perspective, but perhaps not for Abe since he'd started howling with laughter as Wilford spoke.

'Why now how rude, though I'm not surprised, you seem to have lost quite a bit of your decorum! It must be so much worse not being able to see my fingers at work....'

Abe let out a wail to signify that yes Wilford it was so much fricking worse that he couldn't see where Wilford's goddamn tickling fingers would strike next; it made Abe feel so much more like the vulnerable victim he truly was right now. Abe's fiery sarcasm flew out of him in his reply though, and his expression was quite hilarious with his wide eyes and raised bushy brows.

'YAHAHAHA THIHIHIHINK?!?!'

Wilford couldn't help but turn back to glance at Abe and giggle softly....even now he was sassy. It was utterly remarkable. Wilford responded with similar attitude in his tone and a sparkle in his eyes.

'You know I do actually! Many think I don't, but I do enjoy thinking....and methinks now it's time for our DAZZLING piece de resistance!'

Abe let out a defeated whimper, resigned to his fate and focusing on taking in air as Wilford shifted once more.....right down to sit on his ankles. Fuck. Yup. This was it. This was the end.

'Ohoho s-stahars have mehercy....'

Those were the last proper coherent words that Abe uttered for a little while, for as soon as Wilford's devilish fingers touched his feet....all was lost in terms of sass and cheek, for Abe anyway.

'Oooohhh look at those toes wiiiiggle, and oh that delightful hysteria! It is the most beautiful symphony!' 

Wilford spend time on Abe's feet. Scritching at his heels in circles to make Abe squawk and gasp in his laughter, single finger wiggles up and down his inner arches to make him squeal and beg beautifully, as he was now.

'PLEHEHEHEHAHAHA MEHEHEHERCY MERCYMERCY AHAHAHAHA!!'

Abe swore that he'd never been tickled like it, it was like everything on his body was on fire with electricity, teasing his lungs and vocals to produce mirth like nothing else. And boy was he in mirth. Wilford almost thought Abe would break the cuffs with how much he was tugging, it was honestly impressive; Wilford grinned as he scribbled the balls of his feet and purred.

'Oh but you're a big strong bear Abe, I'm sure you can handle a liiiittle more....'

Abe was heavily inclined to disagree, but his heart pounded at the thought of punishment if he vexed Wilford.....so he cackled loud with mouth agape. Thus was the reaction he also gave when Wilford played around with his toes, and believe me when I say that Wilford adored it all. But he was looking for one final thing....he wanted his detective to scream.

'NONONO IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAAAAN'T!!'

Abe was hoping that somehow, he'd be able to endure. Somehow, Wilford would tire of him....but he never did. Wilford seemed to genuinely get more and more excited and enthusiastic as the tickling went on, and for Abe that was the most flustering thing of all. Abe's mind was going wild, because surely now he was hysterical there was nothing more left for him to give? He was laughing as loud as his body could muster so it surely couldn't get any worse.....oh boy was he wrong.

'Sorry.....but I can't stop until hear ya scream.'

A single finger, in the very centre of each of Abe's soles....scratching that one focal point of each foot. That gave Wilford what he wanted. Abe hadn't even known this was even a bad tickle spot on him; well, you learn something new everyday.

'AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!'

Abe wasn't even in control of anything anymore....it was just the mirth. Just the mirth. Wilford was enthralled that someone could have such a bad tickle spot, he had his lips parted in slight awe as he watched Abe scream shrilly with laughter. It was stunning madness.

'Beautiful....'

Wilford whispered under his breath as he focused on Abe's face, his desperate expression, fiery cheeks, matted hair, his eyes filled with falling tears. It was like a paradise.....for one of them.

'PLEEHEHEHEEEE-'

That was it....Abe's voice....gone. He had reached the point of silent laughter, and that's what brought Wilford out of his dazed admiration. Not only did the silence in reality bring him out of his trance....but the potent communication in his mind made him realise it was time for mercy.

*PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING!*

Wilford stopped the tickling, placing his palms on Abe's soles to initiate a sense of soothing as Abe whimpered and gasped. Anything. Wilford nibbled his bottom lip with a little grin....he had an idea. Thankfully, Abe's recovering state meant he had not the energy to read Wilford's thoughts. That was good. It meant it would be the most pleasant surprise. Wilford slid back over Abe's body as he gazed at him, carefully lying on top of him as the detective's chest rose and fell with his deep breaths.

'.....anything?'

Abe was blinking and swallowing and breathing, registering that it was over, truly. He still tingled all over which kept him smiling, and all in all he felt pretty good considering his earlier legitimate screams. He looked up at Wilford, his soft spoken query for some reason making something flutter in Abe's chest....after all that....what could he possibly want? Abe's curiosity took over as he licked his dry lips.

'.....y-yeah.'

There was....a moment between them. Neither of them were really thinking. It was neutral ground, no premonitions, no preluding, this was untouched territory that Wilford Warfstache was about to launch into. He was going to free and take care of Abe no matter his response to his request.....but he was hoping, more than anything, that he would feel the same. Wilford snapped his fingers, making the cuffs binding Abe disappear, before mumbling.

'Kiss me.'

Abe jumped when the cuffs disappeared.....but his shock meant that he didn't lower his arms. Wilford wanted to....Wilford felt.....that? It was a tense few moments for them both, Wilford felt his heart pounding with his anxiety as he purposefully tried to stay out of Abe's mind; he wanted this to happen honestly and....for real. And I'm pleased to say, it did. Abe broke out into a delighted, cheeky grin, wrapping his arms round Wilford's neck and tugging him down for a warm kiss. They both giggled, teeth clashing a few times as they found their rhythm, but soon they were kissing like the other person was the only person they'd ever kissed before. Wilford, of course, was ecstatic with joy. Abe couldn't stop giggling into Wilford's lips, he felt so giddy that this was actually happening....and his heart leapt with the knowledge that they both had feelings for each other. They broke away eventually, both grinning and blushing with bright eyes. Abe whispered.

'Was y-your uh....revenge satisfactory?'

Wilford chuckled at Abe's bashfulness, and he stroked the man's cheek as he nodded. his tone of voice in his reply was both smug, and extraordinarily loving.

'Oh it certainly was, in fact I'd say it surpassed the realms of satisfaction!'

Abe tilted his head to the side out of embarrassment, it seemed that this genuine flirting flustered him far more that the banterous flirting of the past; Wilford adored him all the more for it. That adoration only peaked more when a soft question came from Abe's, most inviting, lips.

'Can we.....keep kissing?'

Wilford didn't even speak, he just kissed him. Wilford cupped Abe's face as Abe playfully hooked his legs round Wilford's waist, playfully trapping him on top of him. There would be the occasional nip at a bottom lip, or a pinch at a bottom as they implicitly battled to take charge.....but eventually it transpired that they were truly the perfect equals. Kisses and giggles and cuddles all day long.....dammit I'm jealous, but then again who the hell wouldn't be?  

WOOOOOO HOPE YOUS LIKE THIS PART 2 LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOP LUV YOUS XX

[killian-whump]

OUAT 2x11: Rewatch Blog

Alright, everybody. Buckle yourselves in, because this is gonna be one WILD ride of a Rewatch Blog right here. Today’s episode is “The Outsider” - also known as “The Episode Where Killian Jones Is Attacked with a Bookshelf, Beaned with an Oar, Knocked into the Hold of His Own Ship, Beaten with a Cane, Almost Straight-Up Murdered, Slapped and Demeaned, Having Just About the Worst Day Humanly Possible... Then Gets Hit By a Car”.

There’s going to be a lot of flailing. There’s going to be a lot of GIFs.

And you’ll probably never see another Rewatch Blog from me, because I will be blogging and reblogging content from this episode for the rest of my life, because the sheer quantity of whump in this one episode is mind-boggling.

At any rate, let’s get on with the show!

You know, it’s a good thing Mr. Gold shelled out the money for a nice luxury car, because that trunk space seems to really come in handy for him.

Smee bondage and whump, if anyone’s into that ;)

Oh no, is this the episode with the Mogwai that isn’t actually a Mogwai, but I always think it’s a Mogwai because that’s the name that sticks in my head? I’m terrible at knowing which episode is which unless it’s cataloging Killian whump, then I know all. Anyway, this title card is kinda unimpressive.

Aww... It’s a funeral :( Sweet words from Snow, but I keep wondering who the poor sap is that’s actually buried in that coffin... and did they dig him/her up later and give them a proper burial under their own name? Or just figure, “Eh, that’ll do” and just forget about it?

I love how Pongo doesn’t actually seem sad, too. Easily ignored on first viewing, but on second viewing, he totally looks like, “Dudes... Why are we here?”

Mmm... I love it when Colin’s being aggressive and wicked <3

“I only have enough of this potion for one object.” And I don’t suppose you could, like, make more of it or anything XD This show is so silly sometimes.

Oh, it IS the Mogwai-that-isn’t-a-Mogwai episode. Know how I know? Here’s how I know: That’s the episode Belle makes this epic face in:

I feel you, Belle. I feel you.

Yaoguai. Yaoguai. NOT a Mogwai. Give me 20 minutes, it’ll be a Mogwai again.

“No man has been able to kill it.” Oh, I’ve heard THAT before.

La la la la la, Happy Day, Happy Morning, Happy Library.

OH SHIT, THERE’S A HOT PIRATE IN THE LIBRARY.

Aaaaaaaaaand there’s some improper usage of library resources. Incidentally, this is one of my favorite Hook bestings, because not everyone can say they were bested by a librarian with a cart of books.

Action Hook! Leaping and running...right into that door. Not his best moment. Oh, I know. Let’s hit the door. That should help. (Spoiler: It doesn’t.)

Umm... Convenient cell phone issues, ahoy! That’s always annoyed me.

“I trust you’ve seen one before.” Kinda snarky for someone setting out on a quest with the guy, I mean, at least try to make friends?

Nevermind, that dude’s an asshole. Although to be fair, she was rude first.

“It’s taken me weeks to track the Mogwai Yaoguai here.” “Yeah, I found it in a day.” Seriously, Belle? Seriously?! Tact.

‘I just can’t understand why people are being so mean to me...’

See, I don’t understand the convenient cell phone outage, when Gold’s just going to rush right over and find her and get the whole story from her anyway. Like, what purpose did that odd snafu cause? She could’ve just as easily gotten the message across on the phone or simply said, “Rumple! Help!” and explained more when he got there, and we wouldn’t have to suspend belief that her cell phone just mysteriously stopped getting reception right when she needed it.

Every time I watch this episode, they always leave out the best part.

“I managed to wrangle up a Pop Tart.” Emma, you culinary genius.

“No one is here.” “Yet.” FORESHADOWING!!!!

“This is really not your concern.” HE JUST STRAIGHT UP TRIED TO KILL HER, RUMPLE. I think that makes it her concern. “He attacked me. It most definitely is my concern.” See?! Even Belle agrees with me.

“She died. That’s all that matters.” Ummmmmmmmmm...

Surprisingly good plan, actually. And it makes sense how Smee would know all of this (although how he knew about the shawl is a mystery). I would’ve liked to have seen Smee and Hook reunite, though :(

Wow, Gold... Kinda being a major jerk right now. “How exactly are you gonna help me?!” I mean, it’s a valid question, but seriously. TACT, people.

“Promise me that you going after Hook is just about getting the shawl back.” AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA, no. Kudos to him for not lying here, though.

“Wait, you’re a-” “Yeah, I know.” Heehee! :D

Oh no, the Monkey’s Fist that launched a million headcanons...

To be real, I don’t really buy into the headcanons, since a Monkey’s Fist is a ridiculously common knot and one used as a counterweight on sailing vessels, but I’m always a fan of painful headcanons, so I like it, anyway.

That said, I don’t even know why it was necessary. I mean, he’s a pirate. Seems like a no-brainer that he might’ve come to this realm with, you know, a ship. It just seems like a convoluted way to have Belle be able to use her book smarts to solve a mystery that shouldn’t be a mystery at all.

Awww... Smee is cute as a rat :D

LOL, I love the way Belle walks with the gun, swinging it like it’s a handbag or something. Haha. Gun safety classes. Pronto.

See, now THAT was clever sleuthing, hearing the ship, seeing the birds landing on something that isn’t there... and especially tossing the sand.

Action Belle! Rescuing Archie! Woowoo!

...straight into dish drying. Seriously, the segues on this show...

Umm... Listening in on extensions isn’t really cool.

“How did he get in here?” He pushed the door right open. We watched him do it, like, 5 seconds ago. You didn’t lock the door, obviously. DON’T YOU KNOW YOU LIVE IN A TOWN WITH EVIL VILLAINS RUNNING AMOK? Although, to be fair, those villains aren’t the kind who let door locks stop them, so why bother... but then don’t act surprised when dogs push your front door open!

...Also, giving your kid a dog without asking the people you live with if that’s okay is also not cool. Just saying, haha.

You know, I’d question the likelihood of Hook hiding the key to a locked box literally right next to the box in question, but this is a man who also hid the Shears of Motherfucking Destiny in a tool box in the shed, so...

“That doesn’t belong to you.” Like that’s gonna work, haha.

I knew she shouldn’t have set the gun down.

“You are.” “Me?” Yes, you and your fantastic cleavage.

To his credit, he didn’t just blow her head off right here, when he easily could’ve.

Aaaaaand now it’s time for ridiculously sexual conversating.

Aw, random Millian feels T_T “Because she made it.” T_T

“Died. Like it was some kind of accident. Is that what he told you?” That really was a pretty massive whitewashing Rumple did right there.

“His heart is true... and yours? Yours is rotten.” Okay, Jan.

Heeeeeeeeeeey, that’s not Colin!

No matter what the occasion or the peril, it’s always a good time for puns.

HOOK WHUMP HOOK WHUMP HOOK WHUMP YAAAAAY

“You may want to turn away, Belle. This isn’t gonna be pretty.” I beg to differ. This scene is beautiful, actually. All kinds of blood and pain and wavering voices and begging for death and slapping and humiliation... Yum.

I did warn you guys there would be flailing.

WHY WOULD YOU CUT AWAY FROM THAT SCENE. THIS IS WHY THE MOGWAI ANGERS ME. DON’T CUT AWAY FROM HOOK WHUMP FOR SILLY MOGWAIS OR WHATEVER THEY ARE *flail*

Also, he should’ve been naked. I mean, it makes sense. And... naked.

“Do it! Do it! Kill me! He has to show you how powerful he is. Rip my heart out. Kill me like you did Milah, and then I’ll finally be reunited with her.”

THAT HURTS ME, GUYS. IT HURTS ME T_T My baby...

Rumple’s response makes me laugh every time, though.

‘I MEAN, COME ON, NOW I LITERALLY HAVE TO.’

Oh gods, guys, that slap is my favorite Hook slap ever. It’s just so patronizing and insulting and... AHH, I’M ALIVE.

...and that tiny smirk at the very end. Homeboy’s not done with yoooou :D

Domestic issues over house hunting in aisle three.

It’s really sad when little boys want to build armories to protect themselves from their Other Mom :( Seriously, show. That’s a low blow :(

Well, here we are... Late night drive... Five minutes left in the show... Not like anything much is gonna happen here...

Oh, a random flashback... Evil Queen capturing Belle... Nice, nice.

Only three minutes left now, awww, Gold can leave town <3

Two minutes left now, it’s not like they have time to- OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD SOMEONE SHOT BELLE

OH MY GOD HE LOOKS HOT BLOODY AND FIRING A GUN

“Oh, fear not, she’ll live. She’ll just have no idea who you are.” “What you’ve done cannot be undone!!!” “Well, now you finally know how it feels!” I love that exchange. Really and truly <3

Only one minute to go, there’s no way there could be any more unexpected twists or turns or - OH MY GOD IT’S A CAR

OH MY GOD LOOK AT RUMPLE MOVE

OH MY GOD HOOK GOT HIT BY THE CAR

OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT FUCKER FLY!

OH MY GOD I THINK HE’S DEAD D:

(Spoiler Alert: He’s not dead.)

OH MY GOD THAT’S THE END

OH MY GOD PEW PEW PEW PEW

[vixxscifiwritings]

vellichor

vellichor

n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured

Alternatively, in which Hakyeon lives the many lives a reader does, in between the pages of books that lay forgotten in the old dusty bookstore.

(Special shout out to @kpop-loving-noona because she was the one who actually conceived the premise of this drabble. More notes at the end)

Find all drabbles here

It’s the sight of books that draws Hakyeon in at first. He spots it from the corner of his eye and immediately wanders over. 

It’s a surprise really. The shop has a tattered fabric for an awning and the windows look like they haven’t been dusted in ages. The bronze nameplate reads ‘Eternity’ and hangs on the hinges, creaking in the strong breeze. It’s accompanied by the chime of a few bells left on the wind chime that hangs a few inches from the door.  

The ancient look feels like a side effect of Time’s personal vendetta against the promise of the namesake. The chiming and creaking have no rhythm and he isn’t even sure the store existed before.

But what bibliophile can resist the siren call of written literature? So Hakyeon, tests his luck by pushing the door. 

It gives way, and Hakyeon’s heart drops. 

-

That’s always the first sign of trouble, Hakyeon thinks in hindsight. But a good collection of books has always been able to seduce him. Will anyone ever believe him when he says that books pull him in literally? 

He has a rare power, Wonshik tells him. One that was activated when he walked into Eternity. That he was able to find the bookstore in itself shows that Hakyeon was born special. 

It’s a constant source of wonder to him. He can pick up a book. Any book and choose to travel into the world and live through its stories. 

It leads to hilarious situations. One time he picked up the novelization of the movie Jumanji and dropped into the middle of the jungle. He would have pulled himself out but there was a rhino chasing after him and Hakyeon decided to prioritize living. Tree climbing is an essential life skill, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Out of all the emotions he feels, embarrassment is the most common. Romance novels are a guilty pleasure but this also means living through the awkward chase and confessions and rejections till the main lead finally finds ‘The One’. It’s a blessing that people within the story don’t sense his presence because some times Hakyeon forgets himself and cheers so loud, it would put overly enthusiastic moms at their kids’ school shows to shame.

Then there is the angst. Oh the angst. Hakyeon cries along with the female lead when she thinks that she is inherently unloveable and that she will die alone. Or when the male lead has his heart broken when the love of his life leaves him and he feels that he has no future without them. When a long lost mother reunites with her now grown up son and they exchange tears and no words. 

Wonshik always laughs at him for how easily he cries. He isn’t as discreet as he thinks, that idiot. Hakyeon can tell that Wonshik is hiding a smile, while pretending not to look at him when returns from these other book universes. 

Hakyeon is always confused by how much Wonshik seems to know, but can never get an answer out of the man. What is Wonshik’s power? How does he always manage to show up whenever he returns from a story? Why is he always hanging around Eternity? Does he live there? Are there others like them? More people who have wandered into the bookstore and then left with their lives changed.

That’s just the charm of bookstores though. A story can change your life. There’s deeper philosophy there and better people can articulate it. But a good book is a special feeling and don’t start him or he won’t stop gushing.

-

“Happy birthday” Wonshik smiles at him the moment he walks in. The doorbell chimes and Hakyeon beams, immediately going to engulf Wonshik in a hug. Hakyeon gasps and Wonshik curses when he forgets what he was hiding behind his back. It’s a cake with candles on it that aren’t lit yet and Hakyeon coos.

“You got me a cake?” Hakyeon asks in surprise.

“Yeah. Too much?” Wonshik asks, running his hand through his hair. Hakyeon shakes his head, his smile probably a permanent fixture on his face and Wonshik blushes. 

“Let me light the candles” Wonshik says, fumbling around for matches that he swears he had kept somewhere around here. Hakyeon snaps a quick picture to remember the moment by and then helps the poor kid by picking up the box kept next to cake itself and waving it in his face. 

Wonshik cries dramatically in frustration and Hakyeon laughs. wonshik sings him an off tune birthday song, the kind he hasn’t heard before but he gets the sentiment. 

“Are you going a trip today too?” Wonshik asks. 

Hakyeon nods.  “I’ve saved up my favourite book for today” he tells him.

“The bookstore is yours” Wonshik says, gesturing to the empty establishment.

“You know... maybe...” Hakyeon hesitates. Wonshik raises an eyebrow. “Maybe a little later? I was kind of thinking we could hang out together for a while. We never do...”

He falters at Wonshik’s surprised face. “.... and it is a stupid idea. Never mind. I’ll just go” he says, looking at his feet and planning to scurry off to romance section.

“It wouldn’t... It’s not stupid. I’d like that” Wonshik says. Hakyeon nods, looking anywhere but at the man. 

His heart simultaneously stops and speeds up and the arrhythmia lasts forever.

-

“Hot chocolate?” Wonshik asks holding up a cup. Hakyeon can almost cry in happiness. Well cry again that is.

“Why do you pick up stories that always make you cry?” Wonshik asks, shaking his head at Hakyeon. 

“Shut up. It has a happy ending” Hakyeon pouts. 

“This must be the fifth time you’ve chosen the same book” Wonshik says, putting his jacket around Hakyeon. Hakyeon is extremely grateful and he hopes it is conveyed by his gestures because words are difficult when he is disoriented from the after effects. 

“And yet you cry every time. You are a sap” Wonshik says fondly. 

“If you love something, wouldn’t you be partial to it?” Hakyeon asks him. Wonshik smiles to himself. He has that far away look in his eye and Hakyeon can tell he is remembering a loved one. His shoulders droop. He knows an answer won’t come. Wonshik was an enigmatic soul.

“I would never leave their side” Wonshik admits, surprising Hakyeon.

“Then how are you here?” Hakyeon asks. He immediately puts his hand on his mouth, knowing it is an extremely personal question to ask.

“Staying here... is a way of staying close to the person I love” Wonshik tells him.

“They are lucky to have you” Hakyeon says wistfully. Wonshik nods. He pulls up two bean bags from the neighbouring aisle for them to sit on.

“Why don’t you tell me about the book?” Wonshik asks, changing the topic. Hakyeon launches into a detailed explanation of the story and the characters and why the boy’s mom is his favourite and Wonshik listens with his head on his hands and all his attention to him.

-

“I... What’s happening?” Hakyeon asks in shock. He picks up a book but nothing happens. He picks up another. A third, a fourth...

He is in the middle of a panic attack when Wonshik comes down to the ground floor from the first. He immediately rushes to Hakyeon who drops to his knees.

“Hakyeon... Hakyeon.... Yeonnie look at me” Wonshik says, caressing his face.

“It’s gone” Hakyeon says blankly. there is a ringing noise in his ears and his vision is out of focus and he instinctively knows. 

“What?” Wonshik asks. Hakyeon looks at him. He should be feeling the worry but instead he feels... empty.

“I don’t have my power anymore” Hakyeon stays, too numb to process it. The heartbreak will come later. then the questions, the anger, the denial and attempts to revive it.

Wonshik engulfs him in a hug and he stares. He doesn’t know what he is looking at. All of it. None of it. The books mock him. Pages that remain cold and unmoving. 

“It will be okay” Wonshik assures him, rubbing circles on his back. To Hakyeon, it feels like nothing ever will be.

“I don’t understand... I didn’t do anything wrong” Hakyeon says in a small voice. 

“Did you... did you do something to a book? Or... try to write one of your own?” Wonshik asked. Hakyeon looks at Wonshik in surprise. Wonshik always knows he reminds himself.

“Only a paragraph. I didn’t even read or edit it” Hakyeon confesses. 

“The power has a limit. You can’t be sucked into your own story. That would be dangerous” Wonshik tells him.

“That’s cruel. You can’t take this away from me. You can’t” Hakyeon insists. “Those books were my life. They were my everything. I just wanted to share everything I felt with others.”

“I know” Wonshik says, wiping away the tears from his eyes. When had he started crying? Hakyeon doesn’t know.

“But that’s the thing about stories Hakyeon. They must eventually end. But you can still live them again” Wonshik tells him with a rueful smile.

“I can’t. You just told me that I can’t use my power anymore. Just reading won’t ever be the same” Hakyeon cries.

“Your power isn’t gone forever. The first time you walked into Eternity and picked up a book wasn’t your first time” Wonshik confesses.

“What are you saying?” Hakyeon asks. He already knows what Wonshik is implying. But he needs to hear him say it.

“You’re living a story and you can choose to go back and live it again” Wonshik says. 

“You’re lying” Hakyeon shoots back. Wonshik pulls away.

“What do you remember of your life before you walked into this store?” Wonshik asks him. Hakyeon starts but closes his mouth. The answer is on the tip of his tongue and then isn’t.

“What do you remember of your life outside of this store?” Wonshik asks him. He smiles at Hakyeon who is connecting the dots and all emotions show on his face. 

“It’s a beautiful fantasy isn’t it?” Wonshik asks, leaning against the shelf.

“But if I go back... I’ll have to do it all over again. I’ll lose everything I’ve had here” Hakyeon says, standing up. 

“And you’ll find it again” Wonshik says. 

“But I will lose you” Hakyeon said. He looks at Wonshik, unsure of hos his confession will be handled. Wonshik just smiles at him and Hakyeon looks to his feet. Wonshik won’t answer him this time.

-

When Hakyeon wakes, he never touches a book again.

-The-End-

A/N - The story will continue in Wonshik’s drabble - here.

[therpmemes]

      santana lopez quotes (2/2) → sentence starters

part 1 (season one-three) // part 2 (season four-six)

slightly edited in some cases to work for rp purposes. feel free to change phrasing or pronouns to fit your muse(s)!

❝ I counted the number of times you’d smile at me, and I’d die on days that you didn’t. ❞

❝ I need to tell you something that I don’t know how to say. ❞

❝ I can’t pretend that things are the way they were because they aren’t. ❞

❝ I don’t wanna be like all of those other long distance relationships that hang in there for a few months and then break-up when someone eventually cheats or things get weird. ❞

❝ I would never cheat on you but if we’re being completely honest I had.... I guess the best way to describe it would be ‘an energy exchange’? ❞ 

❝ She smiled at me a little too long which means she was either crazy or a lesbian. ❞

❝ Let’s just do the mature thing. ❞

❝ This is not an official break-up. ❞

❝ You know I will always love you the most. ❞

❝ That bitch is pure evil. ❞

❝ Wow. Twitter update! _____is all excited about another guy defining her life. ❞

❝ _____ always was a genius slapper. ❞

❝ Topless is as nude as anyone is ever gonna want to see you. ❞

❝ Think I could get used to here in New York. It's more of my speed. ❞

❝ Yes, I did a sex-tape that follows me around to this very day. Look me up on the internet right now. ❞

❝ You have no idea what it's like out there in the real world. No one gives a damn about you. ❞

❝ I'm clearly the hottest bitch in this lousy joint. But I'm all alone, stuck here with you. ❞

❝ I hate weddings and I Valentine's Day. It was invented by breeders to sell cheap chocolate and false hope. ❞

❝ I have been chosen, probably because I'm numb to other people's feelings, to come here and ask what you would like to do. ❞

❝ You know, we always were two ends of the same bitch-goddess spectrum. ❞

❝ Those romantic saps. They may have love, but you know what we are that they are not? ❞

❝ Look, you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna show up at your house with a U-Haul. ❞

❝ Well, you could walk out first... or we could make it a two-time-thing. ❞

❝ I like how you guys pretend to be all accepting about everything but when your friend suddenly shows up in your home, moves in and goes through all your stuff... you're offended. ❞

❝ Okay, New York may be disgusting, especially when it's covered in gray, nasty snow, and the people may be horrible and rude, and some smelly homeless man in pee stained tighty whities might have groped me on the subway and then asked me for a dollar. But I got to say I finally feel like I have found my people. ❞

❝ You're really not gonna tell me about the stick? ❞

❝ I'm your friend. You can trust me, just tell me what's going on. ❞

❝ Oh God. You're gonna be okay. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. ❞

❝ Don't apply logic to me. ❞

❝ I have known you for years and I don't like you 90% of the time. ❞

❝ You know what? I have love for you. ❞

❝ You're my family and I haven't lied to you in months. ❞

❝ I'm smarter about other people than you, you have to trust me. ❞

❝ I don't even think you need all these beauty products, cause they're not really having the desired effect. ❞

❝ And just when you thought it couldn't get any gayer...it does. ❞

❝ You're acting like a completely different person and it's making me sad. ❞

❝ Look, please don't tell my mom. ❞

❝ I have something to say and I have tried to keep it to myself but I will be silent no longer. ❞

❝ You can't just blow past this like nothing ever happened. This is a wake-up call. This is an opportunity for you to take a hard look at the choices that you're making, where your life is heading. ❞

❝ The last thing I want to do is pay 30 grand a year to get a degree for doing something that I'm already freaking Wonder Woman at. ❞

❝ I like yeast in my bagel but not in my muffin. ❞

❝ Oh, come on. You are not playing Yente the lesbian match maker. ❞

❝ I'm getting that stinky panic sweat under my boobs. ❞

❝ Well I don’t give a hot wet monkey’s ass what you care for. ❞

❝ I have hated you ever since the day I met you. You are a horrible person. ❞

❝ He was a much better person than I am. ❞

❝ When we had sex, _____ never stopped asking me if I was okay the whole time. ❞

❝ I'm sorry, would you mind just stepping outside for a moment while I bitch-slap some sense into my friend? ❞

❝ I am loving this look on me. Lord of the bling. ❞

❝ How about we just get you an IPad.. you can't even get porn on whatever you just asked for. ❞

❝ _____ is my ex girlfriend and she just dumped me, which is why I’m even here and why I have this job. And we’re lesbians. And you know, I’ve never been with anybody like that before. ❞

❝ I’m saving up to buy a noose to hang myself. ❞

❝ You are short, you are awful, and that is never going to change. ❞

❝ I would love for things to get physical. I will hit you so hard that you won't be able to wake up until you're old enough to be Funny Lady. ❞

❝ God as my witness, I will break her down. ❞

❝ Life is very high school. Just with bigger stakes. ❞

❝ A star is a star, it doesn’t matter where in the sky I shine. ❞

❝ You suck at so many things. But not this. ❞

❝ Who gives a crap what all the other peasants think? ❞

❝ I’m just not worth it. ❞

❝ I realized the world is even colder than I am. And the only thing that can keep you from freezing to death is to have good friends around you to keep you warm. ❞

❝ I guess that means I care about you. Don’t tell anyone. ❞

❝ At least you were wearing underwear. ❞

❝ Don’t listen to her! Look at her shoes! ❞

❝ Some people love someone because they make them a better person and that's not why I love you because you've always just wanted me to be myself. ❞

❝ No matter how many times we've tried to put our thing down and walk away from it we can't because I don't want to live my life without my one true love. ❞

❝ I normally I use a lot of words when I'm saying something negative so since this is the most positive thing I'm ever going to do, I'm gonna keep it simple. Will you marry me? ❞

❝ Believe me if I could get in her head and bring her into this century, I would, and I would forgive her and have her here. She's my abuela, you know? She's, like, the lady with the big plates of rice and beans. ❞

❝ Last I heard she was on Facebook posting about her diverticulitis trolling for sympathy. ❞

❝ You taught me to be a strong Latina woman. To be bigger than the world was every going to give me permission to be. ❞

❝ You taught me not just to exist because I'm worth so much more than that. ❞

❝ She's the love of my life and I'm going to marry her and I want to share that with you because without your love, I...I think I just exist too. ❞

❝ Do you even know why a groom couldn't see the bride before the wedding? ❞

❝ I took what you said to heart, and I thought long and hard about it, and it occurred to me that you may have a point. ❞

❝ Maybe _____ and I are too young to get married. ❞

❝ Maybe that's why it didn't work out. Maybe it has nothing to do with me. Maybe it's just that you are utterly, utterly intolerable. Maybe that has something to do with it. ❞

❝ I've been bullied, outed, and misunderstood. ❞

❝ I am a work in progress. ❞

❝ I do. ❞ 

[refusaltobow]

An annual visit

Once more featuring @azurasblacksheep‘s Gilmyn Ramarys! (Sort of...)

The Dunmer slipped with ease off the cliff racer, even though he was ageing by now his body was still incredibly spry. He only had one wish – that that melodramatic idiot had decided to have himself laid to rest a bit closer. But it was a minor qualm, not that Antal-Lei minded. He found it so strange, that he made this journey every year now. Who would have thought it? That he would make such an effort for a Dunmer?

Evening had fallen which was how the mage preferred it. Antal-Lei was..tolerated at best and he never liked setting foot in Blacklight. In any case, he did not need his cliff racer causing a kerfuffle, far better he just arrived after sunset and be gone before dawn.

The quiet padding of his footsteps echoed throughout the silent streets. The only gazes afforded to him were the glances of guards who by now knew of the mysterious out-of-place Dunmer who had been making what appeared to be an annual pilgrimage here for decades now. Some said a century or more. By now he was but a ghost to the residents though his influence had remained, stories were still exchanged of the peculiar rainbow dunmer from the swamp with terrifying powers. Of how he had raised armies of the dead, of how he tamed cliff racers, of how he had unleashed a magic so terrible it had made House Redoran quiver and House Telvanni actually engage in politics for once.

The Dunmer who knew ice magic and commanded the shadows.

The rock was still warm from the sun’s beating of the day, his feet tingling as they soaked up the heat in the otherwise cool night. Glancing up he saw the sky to be clear and the moons casting an especially bright light tonight. If only he could remain outside.

Walking the way he knew, he wound himself down a number of streets. Even with all these passing years the old city remained virtually unchanged. His feet guiding him as he eventually arrived at his destination, looking up he saw the familiar domed structure and approaching it found the door to be unlocked. This wasn’t a typical practice but for a reason known only to the family that owned it, they always left the door unlocked on the family tomb on this night. Perhaps he would visit them later, drop off a few gold bars.

The door swung open without much encouragement, not because of disrepair, rather it would appear it that the hinges had been oiled recently. As he stepped inside with the door sealing gently behind him he found himself in utter darkness. Eyes adjusting quickly and a minor magelight allowed Antal-Lei to peer into the burial tomb that was all too familiar to him. Was this even a burial tomb? The Dunmer burnt their dead but buried the skeletons here or something? He could not remember and did not understand the customs of his blood-race even after having been around a few for some time.

The air was awfully dry and warm, full of dust and ash that still sapped all moisture from his lungs. Coughing slightly as he inhaled, Antal-Lei continued on in utter silence as he made automatically for the…burial pit? Honestly he did not know what it was called, but the pit where the remains of his former student and dear friend lay.

Taking calm in the still surroundings, Antal-Lei rounded a corner to find the ash-filled pit. Glancing down he saw a few bones peaking out from their blanket of ash and soil. Already many had been here, leaving the peculiar plants of Morrowind, a few small treasures, even a few coins and some candles that were nearly burnt out.

For a moment he gazed at the bones with a tinge of sadness to his eyes. This is what he hated – befriending someone who was not Argonian or Saxhleel and knowing that once they were gone, that was it – no way to encounter them again. No way to relive their memories and knowledge. How he would have loved that – to see the world through his student’s eyes and laugh at the string of curses that would no doubt follow with the early memories of Antal-Lei’s teachings.

Then out of a small bag hanging from his shoulder he reached in and pulled out a solid gold cup. Kneeling down, he pushed the cup firmly into the ash before filling it with cocoa beans. Next he retrieved several brightly coloured feathers from his bag which on closer inspection revealed them to have tiny pink woodlice stuck to them. Planting the feathers in firmly between the cocoa beans, they rose up like little plants.

As he reverted into a sitting position, Antal-Lei gazed sliently at the pit. It was most peculiar, for him to feel so melancholy about death given Saxhleel do not fear it and do not mourn their lost ones like the other races. For each Saxhleel is reborn and their memories live forever in The Hist.

Taking a deep breath, Antal-Lei exhaled before finally deciding on what to say. “It is quite amazing how with all that’s changed, some parts don’t? Blacklight just hasn’t changed in some ways at all. I have no clue even you can hear me, I expect you can, can’t Dunmer do ancestor magic to communicate with the living? I never understood it myself. Never cared to I guess,” sighing heavily as if to stop his voice from shaking, this never got any easier, it never would, he continued, “your great-great…How many great’s is it now? However many it is – grandchildren are doing well aren’t they? I expect you watch them a lot, you always were stubborn, you’d find a way to keep on watching your family.

Laughing quietly to himself, he sighed, this time a bit happier. “Your stubbornness always drove my patience quite thin. Always trying to get out of things, throwing a tantrum and all sorts, and yet I stuck with you. Back then I had no clue why, but now I think I do and I know right now you’re cursing me for being so sappy. But I’m not going to stop, so you’ll just have to listen. You always hated sitting down and listen to me talk too, at least to begin with. I think I made my decision to stick with you when you told me about Garvs. I just… I don’t know, I suddenly saw it as my duty to become your father figure. Nothing pains me more than children who are orphans or do not love their children, as you well know. Before that…I guess I just saw you as a bratty Dunmer. Though you were growing on me even then.

“But I should not dwell on such sad things, I still remember the time you sent me all those panicky letters. Begging me to drop everything and rush to Blacklight because your daughter had just been born. Only you had somehow forgotten I could not read, so Sings-With-Fingers read it to me. He and you both made it sound so urgent I thought you were ill and unable to take care of your newborn.” Antal-Lei’s face grew brighter as he started to chuckle. “I still remember when you came down the stairs that morning to find me in your house with the baby, you screamed in such a high-pitched manner I thought it was the baby for a second. And your face… When you found out I had bypassed all your security runes like it was nothing….”

Antal-Lei continued to laugh for a minute or so before shaking his head as he regained control. “But as always I remember how you became a fantastic student, all the struggles you faced and yet you pushed through. In time you became such a dear friend to me, I learnt more from you than I thought possible. I thank you for that once more and for the honour of having you as a student and friend.

“I think about you every day still, I never thought I could miss a Dunmer so much. I cannot put into words how much you mean to me and I know you hear me say the same things every year. You’re probably sick of it all… I just… I just regret I was not always around, we both had our own lives that caught up with us and I wish I could have visited more often than I did. I fear that eventually I will no longer be able to make these trips, I hope there is another way to continue to do this somehow…

“Ah, listen to me! Getting mopey again, perhaps I should just shut up? Save yourself the headache,” Antal-Lei chuckled to himself before returning to silence, recalling memories that remained as clear as the seawater of his village. So many memories and experiences, more emotions than Antal-Lei could count. How long had they been friends? Over four centuries definitely. The magelight had long since faded, the candles flickering away still before finally simmering out.

Once more darkness until a warm magelight cast a dim glow once more.

Antal-Lei’s hand idly played with a strand of hair as he tugged at it and felt it come loose. Glancing down he saw the dip-dyed strand to be pale about its root. Laughing softly, he sighed. “Oh dear, it would appear I am finally old. I bet you are laughing. Although… Unlike you, my hip is in perfect working order. Maybe one day I‘ll wake up and find a walking stick has mysteriously appeared,” the smile was in his voice, not upon his lips, being raised Argonian meant he had learnt that any baring of the teeth meant aggression. And so Antal-Lei’s cheeks were puffed up, eye narrowed ever so slightly in an expression akin to a smile.

Standing up with bittersweet happiness running through his warm red eyes, he gazed one last time at the ‘grave’.

“Until next time, and thank you for everything again, Gilmyn.”

[hq10india-blog]

Zero Stress Working at HQ10

Have you ever felt like tearing your hair out at work? Or banging your head against a brick wall? Relax! Be assured that you are as normal as any one else, with a ‘live or die' attitude towards everyday office situations, such as an impossible deadlines, workplace inconveniences/challenges and a heavy workload. But over time, this mounting hazard has the potential to wreak havoc on more than just your work performance. If you are unable to reduce stress at work, it is guaranteed to seep into parts of your personal life as well.

At HQ10 co-working and private office space, we have woven our business model to effectively reduce the varied stresses that business owners and employees are subject to. In fact, we help them move towards ‘ZERO STRESS' and emerge as more effective and more productive in today's go-go-go world.

Here's how HQ10 combats stress:

Zero Investment Stress

Now we all know that starting an office and subsequently running it is no joke. There could be no bigger stress than the burden of making the initial capital investment for the rent advance, interiors, furnishing, etc. At HQ10 you are absolved of this financial stress, because there is no rent deposit/advance - instead you pay just a monthly rent and that too only for the space you actually use (thanks to the flexible space policies of HQ10, which allows you to block and use space as and when you need it). And of course the plush interiors and ergonomic furniture come as part of the package.

Zero Expense Stress

Haven't we all experienced it before … the nightmares of running up expenses that we have either not adequately planned for or those that have cropped up unexpectedly. Giving us sleepless nights on the d-dates when we have to make payouts for these expenses. At HQ10, you'll experience no such shocks. Because the monthly rent you pay is ‘all inclusive' - not just for the space but also includes: electricity, telephone, high-speed internet/ wi-fi / cloud server, power back-up, collection/ delivery/, reception desk services, use of business amenities (such as use of TV/ projector for presentations), pantry/dining area, after-work leisure amenities(like library and PlayStation), office maintenance, security and so on.. To top all this, the monthly rent is truly pocket-friendly

Yet another stress relief at HQ10 comes from their transparent policies on deliverables and pricing. Very simply put there are ‘No Hidden Costs'. So somewhere down the line you will neither hear ‘this costs extra…' Nor ‘This is not included in this cost'. Simply put, ‘What you Plan/Budget is what you pay' and at the same time ‘What HQ10 promises is what you get'.

Zero Time-Wastage Stress

Time is the biggest stress creator especially when we find that we have worked more than 16 hours and yet not delivered our work - because we wasted a good few hours in trying to address office maintenance challenges. HQ10 treats ‘Time as Money' and helps you manage your time more productively by slashing down the time you need to spend on running and maintaining an office

HQ10 takes full charge of the office space maintenance – right from the security to the office cleaning to the working of the pantry, electrical/ telephone/ internet connections, air-conditioners, and other utility facilities. Which means no more stress in running behind repairs or scouting for temporary skilled workers to fix daily breakdowns and so on

Zero Non-productive Working Stress

Lack of business amenities is a big culprit when it comes to business stress. At HQ10we have a full suite of business support services – high-speed internet/wifi, cloud server, photocopying, digital outputs, presentation gadgets, reception/collection and delivery services and more. And we make sure that all these run seamlessly to ensure that your business runs productively. Reach out to our staff - our administrative team is all about helping you get the job done. From photocopying to scheduling, bookkeeping, and all of your back-office tasks, we are here to help.

Zero Fire Fighting Stress

Life is unexpected ….and so is business. We never know when an opportunity /threat may crop up.

For instance, It could be something as simple as – ‘requiring a projector for a client presentation' or ‘500 digital outputs needed in 30 min‘ to something as complex as '10 additional seats required overnight‘ or ‘posh meeting room required to entertain‘. And our stress levels simply go up!. HQ10 beats this stress down in one shot – as they are geared up and ready for any kind of emergencies/surprises the working members would spring on them

Zero Scouting Stress

At some point, every business needs support advisory services from other industries. It could be a bookkeeping advice or a legal complication or IT challenge or piece of communication to be developed or a connection to be established or just a simple pep-talk. Finding the right person at the right cost is indeed a challenge and a big stress. At HQ10 you automatically overcome this by networking with like-minded professionals from varied industries – learning, contributing and growing together

Zero Clock-Watching Stress

You have a deadline. The office doors and lights shut after the sunset… and you are left high and dry. Sounds familiar! Right? But at HQ10 you're free of this ‘Clock-Watching Culture' – thanks to its 24x7 access policy

Zero Boredom Stress

Most of us who are working, end up spending 50% of the waking hours at the office. So instead of being a moron staring at your desk or a Robo meddling with virtual avatars on the phone – at HQ10 you get a chance to interact with like-minded people during your work breaks. Professional Socializing always is a big stress buster and also widens your network.

Zero Monotony Stress

When you are sapped out and stressed, don't push yourself more. Instead, take a few minutes break and recharge yourself. HQ10 has Step Out / Stress Break Zones – here you can simply relax on a bean bag listening to soothing music or settle in the library nook and read up your favorite author or unleash your gaming skills at our Play Station or step into our Cafeteria and exchange some gossip and professional notes.

Zero Access Stress

How often have each one of us stressed ourselves in rush-morning hours, trying to convince a cab/auto driver to drive us to a specific location or in hurrying (I mean literally running a race) from the station/bus stand to reach office on time? At HQ10 you can bid goodbye to this access stress. HQ10 is centrally located at Guindy in Chennai. So you will not face the peak-morning irritation and stress of having to convince or haggle with a cab/auto driver to drive you down to the office. HQ10 is just a few minutes’ walk from the Guindy Station / Metro Station and Bus Terminus.

With a perfect splash of muted and energetic colors, an open flow layout with quiet zone cabins,  a generous sprinkling of artworks and well marked de-stress zones, HQ10 provides a ZERO STRESS affordable work environment for all.

[horrendoushag]

Sappy, Chapter 2

Yes, I shall continue to post this here.

Chapter 1

On AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12830160/chapters/31077039

On FFN:https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12699172/2/Sappy

There was silence after Mabel’s declaration.

The man gave a nervous laugh. “You’re joking. This is a joke, right?”

Mabel and Dipper exchanged a glance.

He slumped to sit on the floor with them. “Okay, you’re not joking. Okay. 2017.” He stared at a dinosaur for a moment, then abruptly jumped back to his feet and started pacing. “I’m not even in the same century! What the hell?” He aimed a kick at the sap next to him, submerging his foot, then fell over in his attempts to pull himself free. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m in the future.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Mabel let out a little snort of laughter. “Yeah, that must be pretty awesome.”

“Don’t know about that yet.” He sat up and yanked his foot free. “Can we get out of here? I’m kinda tired of all this sap.”

Mabel nodded knowingly. “Oh yeah, completely understandable. You were stuck in that stuff for like . . . thirty-five-ish years.”

He groaned. “Please, don’t remind me.”

Dipper led the way out of the cavern and through the tunnel; the man took notice of the first human skeleton and began to studiously ignore the floor afterward. There was a bit of a dilemma when it came to getting above ground, what with the shortness of their rope, but after waiting around in a geyser for long enough they were shot into the air like a trio of bullets. The church was further destroyed by their landing, but Dipper didn’t think anyone would care too much.

“So,” Mabel said to the man, pushing herself off a broken bench. “I’m Mabel. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Stan. Stanford. Stanford Pines.”

Mabel let out a dramatic gasp, and Dipper’s mouth dropped open. “You’re a  Pines ?”

Stanford Pines scowled, hoisting himself out of the coffin he’d landed in. “Yeah, you got a problem.”

“We have the same last name!” Mabel exclaimed. “Maybe we’re related.”

Stanford frowned. “Come to think of it, you guys look kind of like . . .” He trailed off, then turned to Dipper, who was just getting up. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” For the second time in two days. “It’s Dipper Pines.”

Stanford raised his eyebrows. “Huh. Weird name.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Oh, that explains it. I thought your parents just had weird taste, or something.”

They left the church with aching limbs and splinters. This time they managed to remember the way from the church to the town, so they made it there no problem.

“You’re really sticky, aren’t you Stanford?” Mabel commented.

“Just call me Stan. And yes, I am really sticky—I need a shower. You’re pretty sticky too, ya know.” He gestured to her arms, which were covered in sap. More of it was on her face and in her hair; Dipper was in about the same state. Stan was much worse off than either of them, though, having been buried in the stuff for decades.

“We can go to our hotel and shower,” Dipper decided. “And I guess we should get you a change of clothes too. That can’t be comfortable. Anywhere.”

Things were quite normal when they reached town. People shopping, teenagers being rowdy, older townsfolk staring at them—wait, what was that all about?

An old couple pointed at Stan and whispered. The enormous red-haired man they’d seen the other day stopped in his tracks and just stood there. Maybe it was all the sap?

“Hey Stan,” Dipper muttered. “Who were you before you got stuck down there?”

“Uh . . . Well, I ran a little place off in the woods called the Murder Hut. Don’t really like the name that much, now that I think about it. Too cheesy.”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper frowned. “Do you mean that old shack to the northwest?”

“Yeah, probably. I bet it looks even worse than way back when . . .” He trailed off and didn’t start talking again.

Hm . . . Stan must’ve been pretty well known around town to elicit this kind of response. He  did  run the local tourist trap. Dipper pulled out his notepad and pen as they were passing Soos’s shop and wrote  STANFORD PINES  at the top of the first clean page in large letters. Under it he listed in bullet points,  Last name is “Pines”, Looks like Dad, Ran the Murder Hut,  and— “When did you get stuck in the sap?”

Stan sighed. “Mid 1982. What month is it now?”

“June.”

“I got stuck later this month. They didn’t change the calendar while I was gone, did they?”

“I don’t think so . . .” Dipper scribbled down this new information.

“We’re here!” Mabel announced.

Dipper looked up. “Since when were we going to the mall?”

Mabel gave him a weird look. “We’re here to get Stan clothes.”

“There were other clothing stores we passed along the way . . .” Dipper sighed. “Y’know what, never mind. We’re already here, might as well.”

Finding a clothing store was easy enough. Unfortunately, they had to guess Stan’s clothing sizes, since he didn’t remember his and there were no changing rooms. At one point, Stan checked a price tag, and—

“HOLY—  Ten bucks  for a ratty t-shirt?”

Dipper and Mabel stared, and she was the first to speak. “Uh . . . yeah?”

“That’s—” He sighed. “Right. Future”

After this incident, they purchased their stuff (the cashier seemed displeased with the stickiness of their money) and managed to get back to the hotel with less “is it just me or is that the Murder Hut guy” stares and more “why the heck is that man covered in sap” stares.

“I get to go first, right?” Stan asked once they had entered their room.

“Oh, totally,” Mabel agreed. “Being that sticky is only great when it has something to do with sugar.”

Stan gave her a weird look, then sighed, shook his head, and entered the bathroom. A minute later there was a cry of, “How does this shower work?”

Mabel laughed, and Dipper grinned. The moment the water was on, he whipped out his phone, regretting it a moment later when he remembered how sticky his hands were. He scrolled through his contacts anyway.

“Who are you calling?” Mabel asked.

“Dad,” was Dipper’s short reply. “I’m going to ask him is we have a relative called Stanford Pines.” He held if phone to his ear and waited. It was picked up almost immediately.

“Dipper! How you doin’?”

“Pretty good, you?”

“It’s a bit quiet without you two, but we’re doing fine. Is your sister there?”

“Hi!”

“She says hi. Anyway,” he rushed on before there was a reply, “I wanted to ask you if we’re related to someone called Stanford Pines?”

There was silence for a moment. “. . . Ah. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Dipper grinned. “But we are related to one?”

“Yes, he would’ve been your great uncle—have you found him?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“If you’re unsure about it, the surest way to tell is his fingers.”

“His fingers?” He turned to Mabel, who looked confused.

“He has six on each hand.”

Dipper raised his eyebrows. “Okay, cool, we’ll get back to you on that, bye!” He quickly hung up. “All right,” he told Mabel. “The good news is, we’re related to Stanford Pines. The bad news is, I don’t think this is him. Dad says he’s supposed to have six fingers on each hand.”

“Huh. I don’t think Stan has that many fingers.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah. Maybe he had them removed, or something.”

“Yeah, maybe . . .”

Once Stan emerged from the bathroom looking much cleaner and had plopped himself into a chair, Mabel hopped in, leaving Dipper alone with him. He decided to test his hypothesis.

“So, Stanford . . .”

Stan looked around quickly. “Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s me.”

Okay, that definitely wasn’t right.

“I thought I saw some scars on your hands earlier.” Come on . . .

Stan raised his eyebrows, then lifted his hands in front of him and turned them slowly. “Uhhh, nope. No scars here.”

Dipper winced. This wasn’t good—he was stuck alone in a room with a guy impersonating his great uncle. He could be dangerous . . . but it was still kinda strange how he looked so similar to Dad. Well, might as well dive in. “Oh, um, must’ve been my imagination. Anyway, I just got off the phone with my dad.”

Stan looked confused. “Yeah?”

“And apparently Mabel and I  are  related to a Stanford Pines. He would be our great uncle, in fact. However . . .” Stan was beginning to look nervous, so he trudged on. “. . . According to Dad, Stanford’s supposed to have six fingers. So who exactly are you supposed to be?” Dipper was pretty sure he had sounded awesome just then. He was like some kind of detective who had found the culprit. Or something like that.

Stan definitely wasn’t comfortable anymore—not that he’d looked comfortable in the first place, he just looked less so now. “Look,” he said. “There’s—there’s a lot going on you might not understand, okay? Just—” He ran a hand through his hair, and immediately had to pull it out to avoid getting tangled up. “I guess . . . You’re family, so you deserve to know. He gave a heavy sigh. “I’ll . . . I’ll explain when Mabel gets out here.”

Dipper furrowed his brow—was this man who wasn’t Stanford really related to them?—but nodded. “Good.”

There was silence for a while, and then Stan seemed to find his voice again. “What are you two doing in this town anyway?”

Dipper contemplated answering, and in the end decided it couldn’t hurt. “We’re investigating the paranormal.” He glared at Stan suspiciously. “You’re not some kind of shapeshifter, are you?”

“What?”  Stan spluttered. “Of course I’m not a shapeshifter! What kind of question is that?”

“. . .  In this context, I think it’s a pretty good one.”

“Yeah, right.”

There was more silence, but it abruptly ended about fifteen minutes later (though it felt longer) when Mabel burst from the bathroom with a shout of, “I’m back!”

Stan shot to his feet, and Dipper quickly followed. Was he trying to escape? But no, Stan let out a sigh and sank back into his seat. Mabel gave both of them a weird look, and she and Dipper sat at the same time.

“So?” she said.

“He said he’d explain everything.”

She frowned. “Everything of what?”

Dipper sent Stan a glare. “That’s your cue. Spill the beans, Stan—if that is your real name.”

“All right, all right—and Stan  is  my real name, thank you very much.” He sighed. “I don’t actually know how to explain this . . . Are you two into weird sciencey things?”

“Dipper’s the nerdy one,” Mabel explained immediately. “If there’s lots of science, he’ll love it.”

Dipper opened his mouth to protest, then paused. “. . . True.”

“So would you believe me if I told you there’s a gigantic portal in the basement of the Murder Hut?”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance, and he answered. “Probably not.”

“I know it sounds, crazy, I—” He ran a hand through his hair— “I didn’t believe it either at first.

A suspicion lurking in Dipper’s subconscious rose to the surface. “Who told you about the portal? Who built it?”

Stan released a breath. “My twin brother. Stanford Pines.”

When Dipper looked at his sister, she had a look of astonishment on her face. He probably did too, but he couldn’t help thinking it might be a lie, in spite of all the evidence that it wasn’t. “How can we be sure?”

“You can be sure because—” He paused. “I don’t know. I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Dipper pulled out his phone again. “Wait a second.”

While Dipper scrolled through his contacts list in search of his dad, again, Stan was looking at the cell phone with a look of utter befuddlement. Dipper realized he probably had no idea what it was, and Mabel took it upon herself to explain it to him.

“That’s a cell phone,” she said matter-of-factly. “You use them to call people.”

Stan continued to stare. “Where’s its cord?”

“Oh, it doesn’t have one. They’re also called mobile phones, ‘cause, y’know, they’re mobile.”

“Huh. So they’re like walkie-talkies?”

Mabel looked thoughtful. “I guess they are.”

“What other weird gadgets do you have now?”

Meanwhile, Dipper had found his dad’s number and was waiting impatiently for him to pick up. When at last he did, Dipper blurted out his question with no preamble. “Did Stanford have a twin?”

Dad sounded surprised.  “He did, but we don’t talk about him much. No one has any idea where he is, haven’t seen him in years. I never met him, actually. Have you found him too?”

“Just a sec.” Dipper covered the speaker and turned to where Mabel was now showing an absolutely fascinated Stan her tablet. “Hey, is Stan short for anything?”

“Yeah, Stanley.”

“Okay, thanks.” He uncovered his phone. “Was Stanford’s twin Stanley, by any chance?”

“. . . Yes. Dipper, what’s going on?”

Dipper glanced at Stan. “It’s complicated and you probably wouldn’t believe me so I’ll explain later, I’m just gonna hang up now, bye!”

“Mason Pines—”

He tapped the end call button with a loud breath. Dad was going to kill him later.

Stan was peering over Mabel’s shoulder now while she played Candy Crush, looking downright speechless. Dipper cleared his throat and he looked up, appearing a bit dazed.

“So Stan . . . would you mind showing us this portal?

“What—? Oh, of course.”

Mabel glanced up briefly, then went back to her game. “Can it wait till I’m finished? I’m halfway to beating my high score.

Dipper snatched the tablet away with a grin. “Sorry, Mabel, halfway isn’t good enough. Seriously, it would take you like, half an hour to beat that.”

She sighed. “All right portal it is.”

They dropped their clothes off at the laundromat, and then they were on their way.

“So, Stan . . .” Dipper started conversationally. “Why did you decide to call it the Murder Hut?”

Stan shrugged. “Because is sounded cool, I guess.”

Dipper frowned. “What, really? That’s all?” He paused. “Yeah, I get that.”

They entered the woods then and continued on more warily, on the lookout for stray gnomes. None were spotted, much to Mabel’s relief. Stan had no idea what they were looking out for.

They arrived at last at the Murder Hut. The hinges and floorboards sounded just as terrible as Dipper remembered.

Stan stared around with a possibly regretful look on his face. “This place really went to waste,” he muttered. “What happened to all the stuff?”

“No one knows,” Mabel said with a shrug. “Candy and Grenda told us it disappeared.” She grinned. “Kinda spooky, isn’t it?”

“Eh, it was probably just stolen. Stan, where’s the portal?”

“Killjoy,” Mabel muttered, but Dipper and Stan ignored her.

“Here.” Stan led them to the vending machine with the sad bag of chips inside it, punched in a code, and stood back while it opened. He grinned at their looks of amazement. “I know, pretty cool, right? I installed the vending machine myself.” He started down the stairs, and Dipper snapped his gaping mouth shut and pulled Mabel along.

They made their way down the steps to an elevator, where Stan put in another code with complicated characters (Dipper did his best to memorize them), and hesitated when the doors opened. “I’m not sure this is structurally sound . . .”

Mabel peered around Stan into the elevator. “Hm . . . Well, might as well try it.” She hopped inside and turned to face Dipper and Stan’s horrified faces. “Oh, come on! How else is Stan going to prove there’s a giant portal under here?”

Stan hesitated a moment longer before stepping in. Dipper looked even more horrified. “What? It’s not like I haven’t done more dangerous things before.

Dipper stood there for a while longer, Mabel and Stan staring at him cajolingly, and finally joined them when he determined that the elevator (probably) wasn’t going to drop them all to their deaths.

It creaked and groaned the whole way down, sending unpleasant chills up and down Dipper’s spine. At one point there was an unpleasant jolt, and he was sure they were going to crash abruptly to the ground. He was out as soon as the doors shuddered open. Stan and Mabel were right behind him, and they all took a moment to recover from their traumatizing journey before taking a look around.

The room they were in held a multitude of strange, non-functional machines which Dipper could only guess the purposes of. So where was the portal Stan was talking about? He pulled out his phone for light and took a better look; there was a door on the other side of the room next to a desk. He looked at Stan and gestured to the door. “Is the portal through there?”

Stan shrugged. “See for yourself.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes suspiciously, though he was pretty much convinced Stan was telling the truth. “Keep an eye on him, Mabel.” He marched over to the door, ignoring Mabel’s little, “Okie-dokie!” and, with some difficulty, pulled it open. He stared out into the darkness beyond; it was too dark to see the other side of the new room with just his phone. He took a couple steps in, stretching his arm as far as he could, and the light hit something metal and shiny. He let out a little gasp of surprise, then looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Mabel. And Stan,” he added after a moment of deliberation. His voice echoed through the cavern. It had to be enormous.

With Mabel and Stan now following him and his confidence boosted (a little) he strode farther in. The metal thing came into view—a wall? No, it was more like an upside down triangle . . . And there was a hole in the center . . . He moved his phone up, and up, and craned his neck to see the top. He could barely make it out in the gloom.

Stan had not been kidding when he called the portal gigantic.