#i saw a post on this scene and realized i was being unpleasant in the tags so made my own post

[applesandbannas747]

Sarah Rees Brennan's additions to the Fenceverse were peppered with classism, ableism, biphobia, and racism (what else can I call the erasure of Eugene's Filipino heritage?), but one aspect of it that's at once more subtle and more obvious is Coach Sally Williams's inappropriate behavior with her students, and I need to talk about it. Fence is marketed toward a young adult audience--kids who have teachers, maybe even teachers like Williams...and, hopefully, who know to report teachers like her to someone.

Let me make clear that my condemnation of Williams as a predator is only relating to the novels. In the comics, she's fantastic and badass and caring. In the novels, she takes it too far. There are several instances of her being what I'd call a shitty teacher throughout the novels, but there is a moment in Fence: Striking Distance where she sexually harasses three of her students. Can you think of when?

If you thought of the punishment she issued to Seiji, Nick, and Eugene for failing in a trust fall exercise, you would be correct! I want to be entirely clear here; there is no question of whether that was sexual harassment against her students. It was. Definitionally, it was. That's not up for debate. Let's get into why and fill in some context that makes the whole scene even more disturbing.

Williams issued a punishment to three of her students which involved them stripping. Asking students to undress is in itself sexual harassment (unless you're a chemistry teacher telling someone to get their ass in the 'i fucked up' shower but that's basically the only exception). It is inappropriate and unacceptable for a teacher to demand their student take off their shirt. Williams does. And then dresses them in raw steaks to send running around the woods. Their punishment isn't running. Their punishment is humiliation. And she's made it a sexual thing by disrobing them and dressing them so specifically and strangely. This isn't having them put on a little dunce cap and do jumping jacks kind of thing, this is a bizarre setup that, while not written as a fetish, can certainly be read that way. For whatever reason, Williams decided to have them wear raw steaks and the only real explanation is for her own pleasure--amusement, the characters and readers are supposed see. And the readers are meant to laugh along at this strange humiliation utilizing the partially naked bodies of minors.

Let's talk a little bit more about the raw steaks. The purpose of them seems to be humiliation, and if that's where Williams derives pleasure, perhaps my next points satisfy her goal intentionally. Either way, being made to strip and wear raw meat against their bare body is bound to be a massive trigger to people with sensory issues, body image issues, and eating disorders. The unique blending of unpleasant sensory, nakedness, and food would feel gross to anyone forced to abide by this punishment, but for people with pre-existing issues, it multiplies tenfold. And it is similarly disturbing in a new way to consider those who do not eat meat being forced to wear raw steaks around their necks. There are so many people for which this punishment would be even worse than you'd think at first glance, and it can absolutely be read as part of Williams's design. If you saw reports of Willimas in real life, wouldn't you assume this was intentional?

Another thing to note here is the needless escalation of the punishment to the crime. Eugene's meant to catch someone in a trust fall but turns to try and catch someone who's actually falling--Nick and Seiji being the reason and the faller in question. It is for this crime that they are punished. And, yeah, good time to talk about how your behavior can cause real harm to others (hell, it's a great metaphor for trying to learn in a rowdy classroom--reacting to the rowdiness/trying to calm it and sacrificing the thing you were doing to manage it), but an appropriate consequence would be an apology from each to Harvard. It was not a malicious or intentional attack and didn't warrant a punishment at all beyond natural consequence. Williams took this opportunity to enforce a major punishment that is entirely unrelated to the behavior nor is it beneficial to fencing the way running suicides is. Why change the terrain to the woods? And if you want to argue for the woods, I'll even give that to you. Why require bare chests and raw meat? Those conditions in no way add anything but humiliation. And, arguably, to Williams's pleasure.

I know it's 'not that deep' -- or rather, I know it wasn't meant to be. I know that this scene was not crafted with the intent to frame Williams in such an unsavory and upsetting light. I know that to assign intention behind the sexual harassment may seem presumptuous. But if this was happening in real life? Those intentions are almost guaranteed, even on a deep 'unknown' level to the teacher issuing such perverse and power-proving punishments. It doesn't matter if it wasn't written to be that deep, it has some seriously gross undertones.

Bottom line is that Williams used her power over children who were under her charge and protection to have them undress and endure the press of raw, bloody meat against them as they ran through the woods. That's not funny. That's sexual harassment.

[matan4il]

Buddie 616 meta

Maybe I’ll start with Eddie confirming something I’d already discussed in my meta posts more than once before, most recently in my 614 meta, which is that he married Shannon because she got pregnant. He heavily insinuated this to Bobby back in 217, but now he said it explicitly, to everyone, and without the same kind of weight which we saw from him in the past. I think this change is indicative of how he IS healing from the trauma of how badly his marriage failed and how guilty he’s felt over it, now that he’s capable of talking about it more lightly than he did before. I love that for our boy. ~~

Speaking of these men actually being boys, moron husbands, partners in dumbness, we got Buck and Eddie sharing one brain cell and NOT putting it to good use. Even though in the overall scheme of 911 things, that might not seem that significant, I have to say I just love seeing them like that. It’s FUN seeing them being morons who support each other in the way they try to deal with Chim thinking that just popping the question to Maddie is enough, or in Eddie supporting Buck’s dumbass suggestion of a flash mob, or just being pressed together in the fire truck ‘coz they never have any personal boundaries with each other and they don’t understand why those would even be needed (seriously, don’t think too long about how all of a sudden five people had to squeeze in the back instead of four, and OF COURSE it would be Buck and Eddie rubbing thighs together, because no other pair out of the whole team is as comfortable with each other’s bodies). This may not be the deepest part of their bond, but it IS a part of it, a consistent one, the daily partnership that’s the foundation for the big, important, profound parts. ~~

Once again, we get a demonstration of how the way Buck and Eddie are with each other is different to how they act with their other friends. Even when Eddie is exasperated with Buck, he never actually gets upset, he just tries to get Buck to focus, like we saw him in 516. But with Ravi, Eddie does kinda snap.

Buck as well, when he hears some unpleasant truths about Madney from Hen, there’s no fondness underlining their talk, as much as we know that they DO love each other and have a sibling-like relationship. But compare that to how insufferably affectionate the glances that Buddie exchanged in 504 were as Eddie did essentially the same thing for Buck. ~~

And then of course, we see how Hen has Chimney’s back in this ep, putting his well being first, but she does end up hurting him. They talk it over, and within the same ep she apologizes, he forgives her, everything is resolved, and they move. It’s lovely, but think about the difference in intensity between this and what Buddie went through back in s3. Buck files the lawsuit that would stop him from seeing Eddie in 304. Then the very reserved Eddie has a public meltdown, in the middle of a store, and right in front of his colleagues, because he can’t deal with Buck not being in his life. In fact, that’s the final straw that makes Eddie turn to street fighting. Not only that, because the intensity of his feelings overwhelms him, he doesn’t even directly express his hurt, he uses Chris to convey how much Eddie himself is missing Buck. When Buck realizes just how much pain he unintentionally caused, he wants to apologize, but Eddie is too hurt to be able to hear him out right away. It’s only in 306 that they finally talk, Eddie forgives Buck and then we get the beauty of their hug. But this is STILL not the final piece, no. The show will get back to this in the kitchen scene in 309, where Buck shows Eddie he’s worth apologizing to a second time (even though he’s not even asking Buck to), and the final shot of this is the domestic image of Buddifer on the couch, playing video games together. This is when we know that all is TRULY forgiven, when we get to see them once more as a family unit. Because that’s what they are on top of being best friends, like Hen and Chimney. ~~

I’ll point out that Madney and Buddie paralleling is not new. This has been an ongoing theme since Buck and Chim’s new love interests were both introduced in 201, and since Madney got their onset in 206. The very fact that Maddie thinking Chim’s cute is revealed through a dialogue between the Buckley siblings that also indicates Buck sees Eddie in the same light says it all. I have also gone on about how Buck and Maddie served as truth tellers, voicing their sibling’s crush back to them, I have talked about how Madney were friends first, incredibly domestic friends with their own intertwined routine, before they became explicitly romantic, I wrote a whole meta post about the parallels between Madney and Buddie in 512, and now I can add to this. Because Madney easily fell into the comfort of domestic life, Chim told us this week that got in the way of them stopping to make their commitment official. That’s in a sense Buddie’s story, too. They’ve been building their lives and family unit together without even clocking that they can and should stop to figure out what this thing between them is, and commit to it.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ ~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ I’m so thankful to the amazing @whosoldherout​​ for the meta gifs she does each week! They’re always challenging, and you always manage to knock it out of the park!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

[princesssarisa]

Another Disney "Beauty and the Beast" question

In the animated version, do you think Belle figures out that the Beast was once human, and that the portrait of the young man she saw in the West Wing was his former self, or not?

In the live-action remake, of course, she knows, because the servants tell her the whole story (except how to break the spell). The remake uses this reveal as the big turning point for Belle, where her feelings toward the Beast shift from "I'll help him because he saved my life, but I still dislike him" to feeling true sympathy for him and realizing that he could be a friend.

But that's not the case in the animated version.

I suppose the main thing to notice in the animated version is her reaction when she sees the portrait. She gasps, then looks intently and quizzically into the eyes, which are the only undamaged part. She obviously finds them familiar somehow. But the glow from the enchanted rose distracts her before she can come to any conclusion.

I've never assumed that she puts "two-and-two together." From then on she has too much else that distracts her, until the transformation scene, when she looks into the newly human Prince's eyes and sees that they're the same as the Beast's. My guess is that in that moment, she also realizes that they're the same eyes from the portrait and finally figures it all out.

But when I posted something on this subject on Quora, someone responded that they always thought Belle did fully recognize the portrait's eyes as being the Beast's and figured out that the Beast was once a man then and there.

I can't bring myself to agree. Her expression as she gazes at the portrait looks too uncertain, and if she had already figured it out, then why in the end does she need a moment to recognize the Prince as the Beast after he transforms?

But non-verbal acting in movies is always open to interpretation. For example, I've seen several reviews complain about the moment in the live-action BatB remake when Emma Watson's Belle stops tending the Beast's wounds after he turns away from her. They assumed she was stopping her care out of annoyance at his petulant behavior and thought it was a misguided attempt to "empower" Belle that only made her seem unpleasant. But the online screenplay just says that in that moment, Belle looks at his back wounds and realizes they're worse than she thought. With that in mind, and looking at Watson's expressions, it seems that she just pauses her work and lets him sleep for a while instead because she's intimidated by the extent of his wounds, not out of annoyance.

I was just wondering if anyone else had any thoughts on this detail. It's fairly minor, but it does change the story in a way if Belle knows the Beast was once human vs. if she doesn't.

[shewhowas39]

sneak peek of chapter 29: "Wolves"

chapter 29 of Juniper & Starlight has a scene in it that i've been WAITING to get to and i'm so excited to share it.

but first, have a sneak peek of a, uh, much more unpleasant scenethat we have to get through first.

cw: referenced cannibalism, black outs, memory loss (isn't being the dark urge fun?)

***

The goblin camp smells of cheap ale, stale urine, and wet dog. 

June tries not to wrinkle her nose as she weaves her way through the chaotic scene. She’s meant to be blending in, after all. There are dozens of goblins - including children - in various states of drunkenness. They fight each other, laugh at each other, and she’s pretty sure she even spots a couple of them fornicating right out in the middle of broad daylight, but she doesn’t let her eyes linger long enough to be certain. 

There aren’t just goblins here, though. There are also wolves.

No, not wolves. These are too big to be wolves. Worgs, wolf-like monstrosities with a higher intellect and a cruel, fiendish countenance to them. There are a handful of them around the camp, chained to posts, being ignored or tormented by the goblins around them, treated somewhere between pet and prisoner. 

As June draws closer to a nearby fire, another scent wafts her way. A far more pleasant one. The mouthwatering smell of cooking meat. As she gets nearer, however, her heart stops. Her stomach growls with longing, even as it drops and churns, making June feel as though she’s going to be sick. 

Because the delicious meat she smells is a leg. A human leg. It’s roasting over the fire as goblins eagerly await a slice of cooked human flesh.

And June can almost taste it, too. And the terrifying realization strikes her like a lightning bolt spell straight to the chest.

She knows what human flesh tastes like.

And it tastes so good.

Before she has a chance to fully absorb the horror of that knowledge, the scene around her shifts. The goblins and worgs and their various odors all fade into an inky void. June drowns in that darkness for a time, though for how long she cannot say. 

All she knows is that when the light returns, she’s standing in a different camp, one made up of seven tents, a fire, and a training dummy made up of a stick with a mind flayer head on top. June hates that gruesome thing, but right now, she’s relieved to see it. Because it means this is her camp. The one she and her companions share as they travel west, in search of that very goblin camp she just saw in her vision.

But June has no memory of how she got here. Last she remembers, she was speaking to Shadowheart near the gates of the Emerald Grove. Now night has fallen, Gale is cleaning up dinner, and Wyll and Karlach seem to have settled in for a game of fetch ith Scratch. Looking around, June is fairly certain this camp is in the forest, near the sigil stone they will use to transport themselves back to the west tomorrow morning. 

The missing time scares her.

The idea of what she might have done during that missing time scares her even more. 

“You’re back.”

She turns to see Shadowheart approaching her, and she feels an instant pang of relief, because that’s four of her companions accounted for. Four people she hasn’t murdered while blacked out.

“I been gone?” June asks.

[bobbyfiend]

Maggie Stiefvater Writing Appreciation Post #5

I don't say Stiefvater is the best writer ever (how could I possibly make that kind of judgment?) or that she's my favorite (see previous parenthetical comment); I just say she's very good at what she does--like, very good--and I happen to have saved a bunch of bits of her writing when I read the Raven Cycle (spoilers ahead, possibly). On with the writing snippets:

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Terror owned Adam. The old terror, the one that was just as much confusion and betrayal as fear itself.

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“Charity told me that T.J. asked you out today and you just stared at him.” “What?” “T.J. asked you out. You just stared at him. Ringing bells?” Blue looked up (and up, and up) at her tall cousin. “At lunch, T.J. came over to my table and drew a penis on the unicorn on my binder. Is that the incident Charity is referring to?” “Don’t Richard Gansey the Third at me,” Orla replied. “Because if that’s what she meant, then yes, I just stared at him. I didn’t realize it was a conversation because penis.”

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“Oh! Why haven’t they untied you yet?” “We thought she might be… dangerous?” Gansey answered lamely. Persephone cocked her head at him. “And you thought tying her hands would change that?”

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The approval of someone like him, who clearly cared for no one, seemed like it would be worth more.

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It had been a long time ago, but also, it was no time at all. Sometimes, Gansey felt like his life was made up of a dozen hours that he could never forget.

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Ronan didn't sound very interested, but that was part of the Ronan Lynch brand. It was impossible to tell how deep his disinterest truly was.

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There was nothing particularly intimate about the way they sat, but something about the scene made Gansey feel strange, like he’d heard an unpleasant statement and later forgotten everything about the words but the way they had made him feel.

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The night following the reading, Gansey woke up to a completely unfamiliar sound and fumbled for his glasses. It sounded a little like one of his roommates was being killed by a possum, or possibly the final moments of a fatal cat fight. He wasn’t certain of the specifics, but he was sure death was involved.

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Gansey studied Adam's erratic handwriting. His letters always looked like they were running from something.

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From the passenger seat, Ronan began to swear at Adam. It was a long, involved swear, using every forbidden word possible, often in compound-word form. As Adam stared at his lap, penitent, he mused that there was something musical about Ronan when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together, a black-painted poetry. It was far less hateful sounding than when he didn’t swear.

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At the door to the helicopter, Gansey looked back over his shoulder at them, his smile complicated when he saw them holding hands.

[navree]

“Haven't touched on everything I could talk about with Aegon; there's some sex stuff I've alluded to in previous posts that I almost included here but this is already long and it's an incredibly niche reading of the character, but if y'all wanna hear it lemme know.”

Yes please 🙏

I also remember reading some tags you wrote about him flinching on that “most pathetic moments” post or something like that.

So, as I said, niche reading of the character, but they appear to have unintentionally written him as someone who has a lot of trouble with physical intimacy. Which I find such a fascinating detail because it appears to have been entirely unintentional on their part and done in an episode that was largely meant to make us think "wow doesn't Aegon suck?" and instead I'm left thinking "I think Aegon has a lot more issues than they even decided on."

I unfortunately can't find the post, but I do remember that tag, and yeah, when Jace touches his shoulder during his toast (after he realizes that Aemond will beat his ass), Aegon very clearly jumps and/or flinches, which isn't a normal reaction one has to the person they're talking to patting them on the shoulder. So it's a general touch thing, for one, especially since the prior two episodes we saw him in saw that Alicent could kinda rough handle him at times. I'll go to my grave fighting the "Alicent is an abusive mother" crowing from people who have the apparent mental capacity of a frog but even still, that stuff happened, even if it makes sense (medieval society with different standards on childrearing and also one of the only two times that happened was when Aemond had literally just lost a whole eye and she was incredibly distressed). So there's already that to make the case that Aegon doesn't seem to be someone who enjoys being touched. And I'll admit that this can be chalked up to acting choices more than writing choices, that TGC likely made choices about Aegon's comfort level with being touched and that how physical Alicent would get with certain scenes would likely be more discussed between Olivia and Ty than in the script.

But here's the thing: they've also clearly and deliberately stated in the writing that Aegon has to be absolutely plastered, completely black out drunk, to have any kind of sexual interaction at all. Helaena says it explicitly, he completely ignores her as it relates to their maritals "unless he's drunk", he was so inebriated during the assault on Dyana that he straight up doesn't remember it, and even on Driftmark he's getting himself tanked before he goes to leer at serving girls (as well as telling Aemond that the way to get through an unpleasant experience like the dinner with the Blacks is to drink a lot). This is someone they've confirmably written as a person who is doing a lot of self medicating before engaging in sexual intimacy. And that's an important detail to mark when Aegon is married to his sister.

One of the reasons why Targaryen inter-marriage doesn't seem to have been that big an issue for most of the Targaryens even in their own thoughts is because it doesn't seem like they were raised to socialize with their siblings as siblings, but rather as potential romantic and sexual partners. I won't get into a whole thing about exactly why incest is bad, that's a long and very complicated topic and we all know that incest is, in fact, bad, but one of the main components into why it's Wrong is because that's a member of your family, which is a very specific kind of relationship (it's why some writers like to use it as a shocking plot twist *coughCassieClarecough*, because of the immediate sense of wrongness that sets in once you realize someone you've engaged with romantically/sexually is related to you). Targaryens don't do that, members of the family are clearly raised to view siblings not as siblings, but as a future wife or future husband, Dany herself says it in the main series when she ruminates on how she'd just naturally expected to marry Viserys, though that was complicated by the fact that Viserys wasn't just her brother but also operating as both parent and guardian and bodyguard all in one as well as being her brother. But Alicent's kids aren't following that mold. They do view each other through a familial lens, and it is reinforced by their mother that they are family, that they are siblings, and they were in all likelihood raised via more traditional sibling socialization, not Targaryen ones.

So Aegon is marrying someone he doesn't want to marry, someone he has spent his life viewing as his actual sister, and we have no reason to believe this didn't happen pretty soon after the betrothal (let's assume it's a year afterwards and Helaena's around thirteen while Aegon is around fourteen, that's normal marriageable ages in Westeros). Not to mention Aegon appears to follow the Faith of the Seven somewhat loyally, he also partakes in prayer at the family dinner and as I've said previously, he literally hides out in a sept under the altar of the Mother in a time of crisis (the symbolism, I cry), and we know the Faith holds incest to be an abomination. So you have all of that baggage, and then you add in all that alcoholism talk AND all those other statements? Then yeah, they've essentially written Aegon as someone who not only might dislike physical contact in general, but specifically needs to be inebriated to the point of passing out in order to stand any sexual contact or intimacy at all. And yet we still know he's done it, he has kids, and wow gosh this kinda reminds me of Alicent isn't that odd?

I don't think it was done on purpose, I think TGC and Olivia and Ty made some acting choices (and TGC especially likes to play up Aegon's poor little meow meow status so I assume a concept of Aegon not liking being touched was something he'd have in his wheelhouse), and the writers really wanted to get across that Aegon is a drunken lech, but the way they did it and the baggage of all the other stuff we've seen in the show, like how these kids were raised, means that, well, yeah. Aegon reads as a character who dislikes being touched, and has a pathological desperation to self-medicate before he sexually performs, especially with his sister to whom he is married.

And it's an interesting area to play around in, not only in his specific relationship to Helaena (that's a whole trove of stuff they can delve into, especially after Blood and Cheese), but also in his relationship to other people, his bond with Sunfyre, his relationship with his kids, how it might be compounded or mutate or otherwise develop after he's injured in the war. Again, I don't think it was intentional, that's just how I see it when I look at it, but if they want to lean into it and add intentionality and do stuff with it, they could, and I think it could be very good character work.

[beelsbignaturals]

Dead is the New Alive

A/N: Happy birthday to me!!! To celebrate being a dramatic pisces, I've decided to finally post this super self-indulgent self insert MC fic! It's definitely a work in progress but the intended audience is literally me and whoever is unfortunate enough to stumble across this. Big thank you to Aki for helping with literally everything ily homie! Yes the first scene is low-key a songfic. The song is What Will I Remember by Emilie Autumn if you want to give it a listen. Title is also an Emilie Autumn song. Guess what album I listened to while writing lmao. Anyways enjoy!

___________________________________________

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, character death (ish), teeth, strong language

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What will I remember?

"Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I'm sure it must be very unpleasant." The sadistic ass was taunting me. Quite literally adding insult to injury

What will I forget?

I did all this because I saw how much this family was hurting and this is the thanks I get?Someone laughing over me as the life drains from my eyes? After I go through all of this bullshit some stupid demon thinks he has every right in the world to end my life?

Honestly, if I didn't have claws tearing into my throat while this asshole is crushing my windpipe, I'd probably be tempted to smack that stupid grin off his face. Unfortunately, I'm in survival mode.

When this life is ending and gone

Fine. You want to kill me? I came into the world screaming and covered in someone else's blood. I plan on leaving the same way. It's game time, bitch.

What will I regret?

The next few moments are a blur of flailing limbs. One particularly well-timed kick sends me falling to the floor. Not risking it, l don't bother to catch my breath. Breathing is secondary. I need to run.

If tomorrow I don't wake up, what happens?

Moonlight shines through a nearby window like a beacon. Here goes nothing.

My sunrise, or sunset?

One foot in front of the other. Just keep running. He's behind you. Keep going. Almost there..

If I never were born

Fuck. Strong arms grab me, stopping any chance of escape. No. It's not over. I'm so close. I sink my teeth into the nearest thing I can find. Not letting go until I hear a sickening crunch followed by a string of curses. Name another human who took a chunk of flesh out of a demon's hand. I'll wait.

If I never died

Last shot. Come on. Somehow, I find the strength to launch myself out the window. Glass tears my arms to ribbons, but l'm flying and l'm free. Eat your heart out, Sally Hardesty.

Would it even matter at all?

All too soon, I collide with the pavement, knocking what little air I had left out of my lungs. I drag my bloodied body along, rocks and broken glass digging into my palms. I keep going until I physically can't move.

What should I decide?

Hopefully this will buy me enough time for someone to realize what happened. I mean. They wouldn't let me die, right? If even Belphegor was right and they didn't give a shit about me.. at the very least Lucifer wouldn't want the exchange program to be a failure. It would mess with Diavolo's plans. I'm not dying.

I always imagined I'd mean something to

someone

At least that's what I try to convince myself. The blood loss would beg to differ. But. I'll be okay. I'm sure magic will fix me up in no time. Just stay awake until help arrives. I try to focus on all the things I'll miss if I fall asleep. Late night nacho shenanigans with Beel. Watching Legally Blonde with Asmo. Helping Mammon hide from Lucifer. Kicking Levi's ass at DevilKart. All these precious moments that I'd hate to never experience again.

If I won't, 'least I tried

I'm fading in and out of consciousness. Time feels funny. Everything is in brief snippets. After what could have been hours or minutes. I register someone speaking. It doesn't sound familiar. Pressure on my chest. Sharp pain in my neck. Belphegor must've caught up with me. I wait for more torture but it doesn't come. Just a strange numbness. Decorating cakes with Luke. Feeding stray cats with Satan.

When my body suffers

So much yelling. It's too loud. I think I'm being moved? That's Mammon's voice! I did it. I'm safe. Why is he crying? They can fix me, right? It's too cold. Maybe not.

When to breath is pain

Levi is here, too! Maybe.. no. He's crying too. Oh. I guess this is it. At least I'm not alone.

Is it really madness to think

I try to reach for the nearest person. Maybe I can will someone hold my hand? No, that just made them move more. Don't leave me! Please.

Think of breaking this chain?

"Lucifer, get yer ass out here," He's staying. Thank fuck.

Is the future mine?

"Alaura, can you hear me?" After a failed attempt at nodding my head, which honestly just hurts way too much, I opt to try again to find Mammon's hand. This time, I'm actually successful.

It's kind of funny how, despite the fact I lay here dying, this is the most alive and real I've felt in a long time. These last few months have been spent on autopilot. Honestly, I didn't really believe any of it was real. I suppose death has a sobering effect.

God knows I have a past

So much commotion. So many voices. Not like I can understand much of what they are saying. Not when it all blurs together. I hold onto Mammon like a lifeline. Which, I suppose he is.

Where's my second chapter?

It seems they decide it is in everyone's best interest to not leave me lying on the ground in the middle of the night. That would be great if not for the fact they have to move me.

Or will the first also be my last?

The gaping throat wound is, understandably, not fucking pleasant. When strong arms lift me off the pavement, I struggle with energy I didn't know I had left. Kicking and screaming until it feels like my vocal cords are fried.

Is my story over if I fall asleep?

"I know, I'm sorry." The second born whispers, rings digging into my skin. Or maybe that's more glass. Regardless, he cradles my head against his chest, minimizing any movement that would further irritate my injuries.

Would anybody find me?

Crashing can be heard throughout the house. Part of me hopes Belphegor falls through a window too. Just for a small taste of his own medicine.

And would anybody weep?

With that pleasant thought, sleep takes over

I can't even pretend I care

But songs I'll never sing

Well, that means something

Yes, that means something

The next few days are spent in relative darkness. I can't see but I hear everything. It's like a strangely pleasant sleep paralysis. Plus I'm never alone for long. Asmo sits beside me, gently plucking glass from my skin, cleaning wounds of any dirt, and using a cloth to wet my lips and prevent dehydration. I get a whole manicure while he tells me about how I "got Belphie good". Apparently the majority of the dried blood stuck under my nails isn't even mine.

If it's not Asmo, it's Mammon. Half of the time he's moaning about how stupid I am. The rest is spent begging me to wake up. I try to find a way to tell him I'm right here. I'm awake. But I'm frozen in place. I don't think I've ever heard him cry this much.

Occasionally, Satan will pay a visit. Reading the Odyssey to keep me entertained. He's also the only one to update me on what's actually going on. From his visits, I can gather that I had a second attacker, not just Belphegor. The plot thickens. I barely have time to process that before learning said bitch was a vampire. This whole paralysis was just the beginning of my transformation.

Yeah, that's a hard pill to swallow.

I'm not left to think on it long. It turns out that one of the only two humans in the Devildom disappearing off the face of the earth does not go unnoticed. Doubly so when it comes to the resident angels.

With that in mind, I suppose it's not really a surprise that Luke all but breaks into the House of Lamentation, demanding to know what those horrible demons have done.

It'd be sweet if not for the little fact the second he got within ten feet of me, it feels like my bones are melting. You could tell me the air has turned to boiling water and I'd believe you.

His tiny body rushes into the room, grabbing my arm. "Oh, Alaura! Don't worry, I'll save you!"

I can only scream in agony as my flesh sizzles in his grasp. Shocked, Luke grabs my face before he gets a fucking clue. Cute kid, not the sharpest crayon in the box.

The pain of it all causes my eyes to open for the first time in days. I can hardly register the blinding light coming from the hallway. Just that this poor kid, who is, granted, older than I will ever be, starts sobbing out apologies as he stumbles backwards.

Smoke comes off my skin in waves, right where the tiny handprints sit. What is happening?

Poor Luke is dragged away, crying while half a dozen demons pour into my room.

Were they always this loud? I can't process the million different voices all speaking at once. It feels like all the small noises are worming their way into my head and eating my brain from the inside out. Footsteps sound like gunshots. The sound of fabric rustling makes me want to rip my hair out. It's too fucking loud.

Eventually catching on, Lucifer orders everyone to let me rest. He carefully applies some sort of ointment to my injuries before following suit. Alone in the dark I can finally begin to piece together what happened.

Belphegor killed me. Or tried to. Someone else swooped in to finish the job. But that's besides the point. Belphegor tried to kill me. It seems the others don't hate me enough to want me dead. Or at the very least are keeping up appearances. I'm not sure where my attempted killer is but I haven't seen or heard about them since that night.

Right... how long has it even been? I'll have to ask when someone comes around again. Knowing my housemates it won't be long before someone sneaks back into my room. Lucifer be damned.

Next order of business... apparently I'm a vampire? Not the most outlandish thing I've seen during my time in the Devildom but it's certainly up there. All I really know is from what Satan's told me and whatever I can find in my notes on Devildom history. Based on what the textbooks say, vampires are extinct in Hell. So how did this happen?

Only one way to find out and I need the facts before I let myself have a crisis. I guess the textbooks are a good starting point. Ignoring my protesting muscles, I drag myself out of bed to find any information I can.

Blah blah due to the vampire population rising at unprecedented rates and the threat to lower level demons, the King called upon the royal army to deal with the infestation.

Infestation? So I'm vermin now?

Startled by sudden pain in my jaw, my mouth opens in a silent gasp. Crimson blood drips onto the page. Just a few specks at first, but before long, I'm nearly choking as the liquid spills from my mouth.

Frantic, I run through the halls. Not particularly caring about the trail of blood I leave in my wake. Thank fuck no one is in the bathroom.

I lock the door behind me. Muscle memory. Before dashing to the mirror.

Holy shit. Maybe I'm not dead but I sure as hell look it. My body is littered with healing cuts, not to mention the two angry handprints that scorched my skin. Then there's my throat. It's healed somewhat but the mangled flesh has barely begun to scar. Honestly, it doesn't look like something I should've survived.

Fuck. The dull throbbing in my mouth turned sharp once again. Mouth opened as wide as I can manage, I try to inspect the affected area, but God, there's so much blood - I hear the small clink of something hitting the ceramic.

Holy shit. No. This isn't... this can't be happening. I'm hyperventilating as I force myself to look down. There's no way that...nope my entire tooth is sitting in the sink. Cool.... this is just great. I'm. I'm just hallucinating. Or something. That's the only explanation. Maybe I ate Solomon's cooking. That could be it. Food poisoning. Really bad food poisoning.

"Alaura?" A low voice interrupts my manic train of thought. "Alaura, please... open the door."

I don't even bother trying. I can hardly hold myself upright. Who's laughing? Is that my voice? Shit. I'm on the floor. When did that happen? The edges of my vision are fuzzy and dark. When I close my eyes, all I can see is a startling picture of my tooth. A small amount of gum is still hanging on for dear life. Much more blood than what could be considered healthy framing it like some grotesque work of art. Shit. My head hits the cold tile, and I'm watching as the door shakes on its hinges. Maybe I should've locked it.

Once again I wake up, tucked snugly in my bed. This time, however, I can spot a certain white-haired demon curled up on my floor, snoring softly. Cute but there is no way that's comfortable. I can see the dark circles and irritated skin, most likely raw from crying.

For a moment I'm transported back to simpler times. Mammon breaking into my room after a night at the casino, ranting about how "shits rigged", before passing out. Usually I'd shove a pillow under his head and throw a blanket over him before going to bed myself. Maybe even play with his hair. It's soft as hell but I know he'd complain if I did it while he was awake. I even got a beanbag chair at one point so his spine doesn't riot. With such a mundane scene, I can almost pretend things are normal.

Almost. When I poke at the tooth causing me grief earlier, I find it is longer and sharper than I remember. No. No. No. No.

"Mammon," I hiss. "Mammon wake up."

He wakes with a start, rubbing sleep from his eyes before jumping into action.

"You're up!"

I nod slowly. Knees hugged to my chest. "Is this real?"

With a sigh he plops down on my bed, walking me through complex math problems until I know without a doubt my subconscious could never make that up.

Teary-eyed, I stare at Mammon before I finally speak again. Talking feels strange with a killer toothache and one fang.

"What now?"

[catboykilljoy97]

Happy birthday to me! 🥳 Well, technically it was yesterday, but I was busy so you get my birthday post today 😛I'm 26 now, which means I am officially Too Old For Leonardo DiCaprio! So, relevantly, I wanted to share my odd little collection of 90s Leonardo DiCaprio movies:

(not pictured: Titanic and This Boy's Life, because I got them at the library)

A few summers ago, I was (not so)slowly losing my mind from working at a grocery store during covid lockdowns (and everything else that was happening in 2020/2021). So what did I do? A lot of things, honestly, but the relevant one is that I went on a deep dive of 90s Leonardo DiCaprio movies. It started out with, well, the exact reasons you'd think a very single 24-year-old would start watching Leonardo DiCaprio movies, but it soon turned into a sort of deep dive on a famous actor's early career and his strengths/weaknesses/typecasts, as well as an exploration/cultural study of increasingly obscure 90s movies.

...I was going a little off the deep end, yeah.

Anyways. Initially I was gonna write up a whole review list for all the ones I saw, but that would've been super long and rambly and I'm not that committed to the bit, so here's an overview:

Romeo+Juliet is genuinely one of my favorite movies now. I could go on and on about how good it is. I'd rank it right up there with Galaxy Quest, which trust me is high praise. I'm a sucker for "appears silly on a surface level but is actually really well-done and well-thought-out", I guess.

Watching Titanic when all you know of it are the memes and the famous scenes was a really interesting experience. Also, I'm embarrassed to admit it but I do in fact want Jack Dawson to draw me like one of his french girls.

I liked Basketball Diaries because they let Leo go completely fucking feral in that one. When you let him emote, he *emotes*. A little over the top? Maybe but I love it

Total Eclipse is the worst movie I've ever seen oh my god not even the bisexuality could save it it's so confusing to watch and the characters are the most unpleasant people to have to experience

I ran out of steam before watching Don's Plum, which is a shame because it has the dubious honor of being banned for commercial viewing in the U.S and Canada

What's Eating Gilbert Grape aged like fucking milk to the point that it's actually fascinating to watch as like, a cultural artifact.

Also, the last point. DiCaprio only dating women in their early 20s is even more striking when you realize what he was up to in his early 20s.

[noro-noro-noro]

long dream but i realized my alarms didn't go off & jumped out of bed really fast, so all i have is like the last scene, which is mostly about getting our truck that can drive on water crushed to death in a machine & then talking the guy that controlled the machine out of it. i'm really hungry for pizza.

- in some kind of small museum area with 4 ir 5 disply boxes. the museum is either run by or just featuring some relatively young for that position guy i think early 30s. anyway he kind of seemed like a dick.

- people "in my party" included me, my friend (real), & my other friend (not real, but a somewhat timetraveller). anyway the museum curator/owner guy was secretly kind of a dick. he'd hired us to investigate something - when we looked too closely at some of the artifacts it pulled us to the bay where it was a 2d minigame of a guy driving a truck around on top of & below the water, mostly interacting with a couple different nodes that had color coded icons (i think 7 of them?), & a central cruise or storange ship.

- brief interlude in this scene that was like i was doing a creepy dungeon level of a puzzle where you'd need to control 2 people & my ex was like the character they'd placed in the dungeon for me to also have to use & it was unpleasant & uncomfortable & he was doing this whole thing where he was being like really sanctimonius about the fact i told him to go to hell on an instagram post in 2020 & like "well i never told you to kill yourself" & i was like jesus christ if i didn't need you to stand on that button to free this crate i'd fucking eradicate you. you dumped me because you wanted to fuck my roommate man & were, in fact, doing that a week later, and refused to admit your behavior was wrong. like just admit it to yourself you're delusional if you think i'm not justified. anyway at the end of the level he like went into his house or whatever & i thougght about blwoing it up but i also remembered i wanted to get a perfect score on this level & killing him would detract points.

- anyway! my friend (not time traveller) was controlling the truck. there was supposed to be a more robust series of choices & doing them in a certain order would unlock a more personal ending since hte other ones were just allying with one of the 7 shpes. they each required the ocean to be terraformed in some way - one was like a barren ocean with a lot of bubbles, one had a dark blue icon tht implied a super lush ocean, i think the mental image was fontaine ocean at sunset so everything was kind of greenish. like subnautica kelp forest but less scary/more visibility. there were a lot of icons. they were done in a bold vector style with a slight gradient in like..jewel tones lol.

- as previously said! the choices weren't working out so well so my friend was just locked into supporting one of the icons & he was complaining about it because none of the icon endings were hte "true" ending. Because the millinoaire museum man was actuallly evil and would try to crush us to death with his cruise ship mecha - it'd surround us with its limbs & then start pushing inwards. i assume there was a puzzle to be freed before the boat got too cramped since there was a magnet block that we could hide under and around to prevent the worst of the damage, but in the end the final area was a weird shape and the block wouldnt save us. my friend was getting pissed off at the bugginess of the choice system. i could feel physical pain whenever the truck was crushed in the cutesy 2D interface.

- the time traveller ended up having the right idea - he took us back to the museum's opening, where we saw the museum curator guy doing his first exhibition. he had the power to draw anything & within this room grant the audience aspects of that power. his art wasn't super great, but with some encouragement, maybe he could flourish! the power also might have been from the most central display case in that room. i'm not otally sure i know it was related somehow.

- in the timetraveler's vision he could see the flow of what normally happened sort of vaguely, like if he grabbed a rope and unspooled it, all the details were in the fibers. and he saw that the curator was pushed into displying osmething that granted the audience like a magic wand with projectile powers & they all had soo much fun with that blasting things and breaking shit rather than looking at his other pieces. this led him down the path to evil.

- instead of having him display that, the time traveller secretly swapped out the magic wand one in favor of showing his other (medicore but with spirit!) drawings. curator recognized him as a time traveller & asked eagerly if he was famous & well known for his art in the future. the time traveller told him that people aren't allowed to ask about that kind of stuff (which is a true rule of time traveller society though they don't tell their rules to outsiders much) & instead asked him questions about the art pieces. curator took the bait t& eagerly started talking about llike...his weird alien oc. the fact that someone encouraged him now not for his power or ability but just out of curiosity seemed to eradicate hte bad timeline where it felt like my fingers were getting crushed to death. yay!

woke up then

[fullofsunsetwhispers]

I hope Omi and Bessie were able to meet each other again

I hope so too!

Long ago I saw a post about Omi using the Golden Tiger Claws to sneak out at night to pay a visit to his animal friend! And tbh that's my headcanon now.

What interests me tho, is if there is a possibility someone would find out either on Bailey Farm or among other monks/Dojo or Master Fung.

If the former, then let Omi meet Momma Bailey, ok? She would explain to him why his attempts to milk Bessie were unsuccessful and guide him on how he should treat her. She would tell him Bessie's favorite food and show him which cow brush he should use etc. Wholesome, is it not?

If the latter, I think Kimiko, Rai, and Clay first would be equally surprised why would Omi break the rule 'No using shen gong wu at night' for an ordinary cow. But after listening to his argumentation, they would be eager to cover up his little trips to Texas! That, on the other hand would lead to funny shenanigans.

For instance, if Clay knew about Omi's secret first, he would let his ma know they'd drop by. And Momma Bailey, the kindest lady, would tell the boys to take a gift to the xiaolin temple! So, in the morning Rai and Kimiko would be very surprised why there is so much food on the table.

Kimiko: Where did you get this pie?

Clay, his mouth already full, lying: My ma sent this pie by post!

Raimundo: Alright Kimi no need to be suspicious. Pie is pie, let's take a bite!

Later on, Clay would appreciate Omi's idea more because that way his ma could fetch him more homemade food through the portal. However, the main disadvantage is that the food should be packed tightly because if not, the remaining food pieces would land on you. (remember that scene in which we saw how everything is swirling when someone travels through that portal? so now imagine the same portal is covered in soup (because during the transit someone spilled it) making each new Golden Tiger Claws' travel unpleasant.)

When we consider Kimiko as the first monk-friend being aware of Omi's endeavors we can be sure she would be very supportive. 'That's our little secret! Give old Bessy all the head pats from me!' - Omi would hear. Kimiko also is the most active when it comes to helping Omi not to get caught.

And how about Raimundo, you may ask? At first, he would be against that because deep down he is afraid that wu might do these horrible things he went through during the 'last temptation of raimundo' ep. However, he convinces himself it's safe enough and then gives Omi full permission to visit Bessie whenever he wants. Rai shortly after realizes the rest should be let in on that secret because now he's afraid Mater Fung might punish Omi for misusing the wu. Together, they might save Omi from punishment. In the worst scenario, Rai would put the blame on himself.

Fortunately, Fung is okay enough to understand there is a bond between the youngest monk and the cow so even if he found out, he would let Omi continue visiting her under various conditions of course. And knowing him, there would be a long speech about responsibility and how unwise it is to do it in the middle of the night because the next day no one would have the energy to train yada yada.

Dojo would join Omi in his little trips but he values good sleep more lol. And the second reason could be that he's afraid he might meet that snake lady again. He's not ready for the relationship and what is worse he doesn't know how to say that without hurting Snake Lady's feelings. So, he would pass.

That's all I've come up with!

[tashilover]

“Jude” part 1 of 3

On the day Jude turned twenty-five, she hid herself away, found a quiet spot where no one could see her and cried. It was embarrassing enough to have the world know her as a useless, pathetic old hen, but she couldn't stand the thought of their judgmental stares. Even now she could hear their comments, their sneers of her failure to find a mate.

It wasn't her fault her plumage was the color of piss. She tried everything she could to lessen the bright- almost blindingly- yellow of her feathers and failed. Nobody would want that ugly shade passed down to their kin. Now at the age of twenty-five, she was too old to have eggs.

Her mother eventually found her. "Jude? My sweet hen, come out, you haven't eaten all day."

"What does it matter?" Jude sniffled, burying her face into her wing. "It's clear no one wants me. So what's the point?"

"You're being dramatic. Come out here."

Jude lifted up her long head away from her wing. Her piss-colored feathers were a mess and needed grooming.

Her mother clicked her beak. "Oh, my sweet chick..."

"I can't stay here..." Jude whispered. "Momma... I can't. I need to leave this place. Go somewhere else. Start somewhere new."

"This is your home. Where would you go?"

"I don't know. I'll change planets if I have to. Like... Where was that place Lucie went to last year? Earth?" 

Her mother's feathers suddenly fluffled, and she stood up, her beak snapping angrily. "You don't want to go there, sweet chick! Those humans are monsters! They eat lesser fowl."

So did Jude's kind. Many species across the universe did. Last night alone Jude ate four smaller birds, feathers, bones and all. But humans didn't eat their fowl raw. They liked to pluck, and broil, and boil, and bake, and deep fry. They did things to fowl no other species has ever done. It was seen as disgusting and cruel.

But humans were not their enemies. In fact humans were their allies back during the Great War three clicks ago. Surely that meant something.

"I need to leave," Jude repeated. "Earth can't be worse than being here. I'm going momma. I'm going."

***

Jude had no expectations of the small blue planet. She read a few books and watched a few videos to get a grasp of what sort of world she was stepping into. She was told many humans eat fowl on the street and she should ready herself should any unpleasant humans choose to use their food to mock her. Jude just hoped she wasn't immediately shunned the moment she got off the ship.

"Hello," Jude said, coming up to her first human. The human was bent over her desk, writing something. "I'm checking in. This is my passport."

The human woman looked up, saw the piss-colored feathers and her jaw dropped. "Oh my!"

Jude felt like someone slapped her. Not even five minutes on this planet and already she was getting looks of horror. Something must've shown on her face, because the human immediately backtracked, averted her eyes and said, "Apologies, ma'am. It's not often I meet an Aves. I hope you forgive me."

At least she apologized. Still, this first introduction on Earth did not forbade well.

"It's fine," Jude mumbled. Lord, she made a great mistake coming here.

After getting her passport confirmed and stamped with an Earth logo, Jude walked out onto the busy floor of the intergalactic travel hub. She was stunned to see it. There were hundreds of humans and aliens all around her, running or walking to their destination. Some were waiting in line for food, others were reading, many were on their devices. It wasn't a scene Jude was unfamiliar with, but this was the first time she's seen so many humans at once.

It took her a few seconds longer to realize while she stared at them, many of them stared back.

The humans were pointing, whispering amongst their own. Some even raised their devices to not-so-subtly take pictures of Jude.

What was this? Why was this happening? Have they never seen an Aves before? There was a fellow Aves by the window, a male with bright blue feathers, but he was being ignored by the humans near him. Only Jude was being stared at.

This was worse than being at home. At least on her homeworld, once someone took a look at Jude's hue, they ignored her. Here, she was a freak put on display. Unable to take it anymore, Jude turned around to get back on the ship. If she had to, she'll jump from planet to planet until she found one so remote, there'll be no one to judge her.

She barely took two steps when suddenly a small boy ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her legs.

"Mmm' bird!" Said the boy, giggling.

Jude startled. "Excuse me?"

"Mmm' bird! Mmm' bird!"

The boy's mother quickly ran up, grabbing her son and pulling him away from Jude. "I am so sorry about that! He just gets excited. Jonas, that's not nice! You don't grab people's legs like that!"

"Mmm' bird!"

The mother blinked, and then took a second look at Jude. She gasped. "Oh? Oh my! You look..."

Jude immediately flinched. Was this going to be her entire experience on Earth? People staring at her and recoiling? Jude curled away, ready to hear all the ugly taunts from home. Ugly. Frightful. Hideous.

"You look..." The mother smiled warmly, her cheeks turning pink. "You look like Big Bird!"

"I- what?"

Jonas broke away from his mother's grip and ran back to Jude, again hugging her legs. "Mmm' bird! Mmm' bird!"

The mother herself giggled shyly. "Oh, this is like a childhood dream come true! You look exactly like Big Bird! It's no wonder everyone's staring at you. I love your feathers! They're so beautiful!"

Jude couldn't even speak. This was the first time in her life someone said her feathers were beautiful. The mother wasn't the only one. The humans who stared at her repeated the same name, laughing and excitedly clapped their hands. Many young children were begging their parents to come over, and even humans who were old and greying looked at Jude with joyful expressions.

"It's Big Bird!" The humans said in a voice of pure delight.

***

Jude acknowledged on some level it was insulting to know the only reason humans flocked to her was due to an ancient children's program. But she didn't care. She came to this planet expecting sneers or outright disregard. Now, as she walked down the street, she reveled in the joy she brought to people's lives.

Without knowing it, Big Bird had made a home for her to come to.

***

Part 2 below

https://tashilover.tumblr.com/post/653476570874396672/jude-part-2-of-3

[lemonhobgoblin]

A Casual Night

Mothman x human reader (gender-neutral)

Word Count: 7k

(I remember saying I would have a fic done the same week I posted my other fic. Well, that was a lie. After dealing with work, creating new wips, and editing what started as a 2k fic became this long-ass post. I tried to keep this gender-neutral, but if there are any parts thats not gender-neutral, or if something doesn't make sense give me a message and I'll fix it. Anyway hope you enjoy!)

The faint sound of your car running and the sound of the wind whipping against the surface was muddled out by old tunes playing from a random radio station filling the lonely ride home. Your eyes trained on the dark empty road ahead, your headlights on full beam, lighting your way. The subtle notes of a box of cooling pizza wafting in your direction every so often.

You were driving from a city over from where you lived, coming back from a friend’s home who was having a small get-together. It was a great time, unwinding from the stresses of work and life in general, with games, movies, playful banter, and sharing a couple of drinks. As the night progressed, things began to slow down, one of your friends passed out on the couch while everyone else turned to some lighthearted conversation. Leading the host to pipe up if they were willing to spend the night given how late it has gotten and mostly due to how much some people drank.

While everyone was willing to stay the night and continue their night of merriment. You on the other hand as well as one other person had to leave for the night due to work obligations you both had tomorrow morning.

Regretfully, you made your exit not without being offered leftovers for the ride back. But halfway home, you received an email detailing how you were not needed for work tomorrow as you were getting gas.

With this newfound information, you had the choice of making a U-turn back or continue straight home.

Rather than driving back to your friend's home, you were just going to continue your way home. You already said goodnight to them, and you were almost home even though it was still quite a ways to go. Nevertheless, they probably turned in for the night by now, and there was always next time to make it up to them.

So driving down an empty two-way road, with no lights fixture to light the road. With no other cars passing through, keeping you company. Only the trees crowding around the road giving you some sort of haunting looming audience. This was a normally busy road; however, by how late in the night it was, it was understandably dead.

Fortunately, enough, you saw your first signs of life up ahead. It seemed to be a herd of deer passing by. You honked your horn to scare them away from the oncoming danger that was your car.

Except instead of dispersing, they stayed in place, it didn’t seem out of the ordinary why else did they have the saying 'a deer in headlights.'

But what was odd, was the closer you approached the herd of deer they seemed to be floating off the pavement, apparently, they were one entity and not a group and had a pair of red glowing eyes. It stirred an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Promptly, an undiscernible screech erupted all around, jolting you in your seat, feeling a pang of sudden fear washing over you. Convincing yourself it was only the radio going off the fritz, peeling your eyes away from the road you scrambled to shut off the device. During your haste to bring an end to the blaring otherworldly sound, you didn’t realize how fast you were driving.

"What the fuck?!" Seeing a flash of a large dark mass smashing against your windshield - shards of glass flying around and onto you.

Swerving your car over to the side of the road, feeling the right side slope down, the bumps of the grass making you rattle and jostle in your seat. Putting your car to a complete stop.

Frantically, you scrambled to free yourself from your seatbelts, ripping yourself from your constraints, you busted out your car. Not giving a single care to the state of your car or your frazzled state. Only concerned about what or who you hit.

Jogging down, you saw a crumpled figure on the ground, he was a good distance away from where you parked. "Oh my god," You exclaimed.

“I didn’t see you coming, I’m so sorry," you yelled, hurrying to aid the individual. You didn’t get a response or see any movement - he did hit your car pretty hard.

Scared for their wellbeing you slowed down and fished for your phone in your back pocket to call for help. But before you could dial for help, you saw something that put halt to your actions. You starred in disbelief as your phone locked out.

From the figure, a wing stretched out toward the sky before folding back in itself.

What the hell did you hit?!

Cautiously, you crept forward to get a better look, you could see he was wearing a fur jacket. No. He was furry everywhere, dull in color but with an interesting print on what you believed was the wings, the pattern was similar to a moth's wing. A costume perhaps? His legs were a digitigrade structure and his feet are similar to a bird's foot arrangement. The talons of which were scraping against the road like an animal in pain.

"A moth?" Perplexed at what exactly you were looking at, it still seemed human, but it was too large in stature given it curled up on the ground. This had to be some large person in a very convincing costume. Assuming it was someone dressed up, as what you could only think of as Mothman. A random tall person dressed head to toe in an extremely convincing Mothman in the middle of an isolated road, for reasons you couldn't conjure but there had to be a rational reason as to why.

The closer you approached, the more of your rationality began to slip. Carefully you squat down, putting your hands on its back, it felt real. Too real.

The wings felt warm, stroking your hand down, you felt the ridges, bumps, and what felt like a pulse, in the wings. You noticed it had a plush ruff around its neck that could’ve been mistaken for a scarf. And there were antennas on its head, it was featherlike and twitched every few seconds. You had no desire to investigate further, yet you had a gnawing sense of curiosity that compelled you.

Besides what if was someone who was severely injured and needed immediate help. And what kind of person would you be if you just drove off without a second thought, leaving them to die. You couldn't live with yourself if that was the case.

This is too unreal. But all the signs suggested otherwise.

Bracing yourself, you gently turned him over to face you, the moment you caught a glimpse of his face, you felt instant regret surge through your veins. You stumbled backward, landing on your back, trying to push yourself away from the massive creature with your legs.

"MOTHMAN!!" You screamed.

This in turn alarmed the cryptid, flapping his wings erratically in response to your sudden outcry. It was emitting these indiscernible sounds that you had heard earlier in the car, it provoked that familiar immense fear within you.

Except, this was louder than when you were in your car, the sound reverberated through you, chills traveling up your spine. You could feel your heart palpitating within your chest, your trembling limbs growing numb. You felt your senses heightened at an alarming rate it was nauseating that you felt your mind blur. If these disquieting sounds alone could trigger your flight or fight response, without the presence of the monster. It was nothing in comparison to the full show that was in front of you, it was overwhelming in all the senses, inciting you to get far as possible.

"Holy shit!" Pulling yourself from your state of shock, you turned over onto your hands and knees, pushing yourself up and away, making a straight beeline to your car without delay.

The screeching stopped behind you. Glancing back toward the monster curious if it was making a move towards you. But all you saw was a poor incapacitated being, pitifully attempting to lift itself away. One of its wings was flapping while the other was barely moving at all. When it tried to move its stiff wing, it wouldn't fully extend before retracting it back, making what sounded like a pained low screech.

In all honesty, even in your fear-driven state, it pained you to witness this distressing scene. Pondering back and forth between taking the car and leaving, or taking your chances with the monster.

Inching toward the car, all without removing your eyes from the scene. Then you heard a more distressing shrill, stopping you dead in your tracks. You couldn't leave him.

He still needs help.

Inhaling a deep breath, you shakily walked back, each step was challenging you felt so weak in the knees and you felt lighter than usual. Your mouth desiccated of any moisture but persisted in swallowing nothing. It felt as if you were walking down to your execution and it might as well be. You couldn't predict what it would do or what it was capable of doing if you got any closer. Regardless, you tried to push your fears aside and help him, even if it killed you.

"Hold on, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just don’t hurt me please." Easing yourself onto your knees, mindful of not doing any sudden movements to provoke it any further for both of your sakes.

Bringing a hand back to where you had it before, you delicately brushed your hand up and down in small strokes on its wing. Focusing on his state and not his appearance, you saw cuts and scrapes littering its wings and body.

You grazed over an open wound, causing the creature to flinch, silently apologizing to him in a hushed tone before continuing to pet him while avoiding any more wounds.

Its breathing began to slow, quelling its jitters. You took this as an indicator of the creature growing at ease at your presence. “See I just wanna help." You whispered as the Moth creature peered up, gazing into your eyes in a sort of mutual understanding. Ensuring a feeling of reprieve within you and within him, or so you thought. It was soon to be proven wrong. The moment was short-lived when the cryptid began to thrash around again, this time trying to keep you away from him.

"Wait I thought we had an understanding there." Pulling yourself into a ball to avoid the cryptid's violent flapping wing and arms recklessly whipping around. "The eye contact we had! The eye contact!" you screamed after being betrayed by this false sense of amicable trust you thought you both had shared at that moment. But this ineffectively did nothing to fix the dilemma, merely adding more to the chaos.

"Please I want to help you." Reaching your hand out to calm him once more, without the screaming and flailing this time. "This was my fault, I wanna help and then you can go on your Mothman way, okay?" You tried to coax. Once more the monster began to quiet down, its quick shallow breathing slowed. Weary of his soothed behavior, you waited a bit before wrapping his arm over your neck.

"Okay, I'm gonna pick you up or at least try to." You said, guiding him upward into a standing position.

"Christ, you’re heavy!" Bending under the weight, propping him against your frame, so you could get a proper footing and grip on him. You struggled to the car, trudging over, but not without one of your legs giving out from under the weight occasionally. What caught your eye was how his head lulled forward or side to side, he might be disoriented from the blow. Not wanting to move his head much, you trudged much slower than you already were and stopped every few seconds.

Arriving at you your vehicle, you rested against your car, before opening the car door and easing him inside into the backseat. Tucking in any stray limbs and wings fully inside the car. Shutting the door you looked at the heavily cracked windshield. It was damaged pretty well, you summarized that you had to slowly drive all the way home. Wait home.

"Wait, I can't just bring you to my house." You said, bringing a hand to your mouth, realizing a new issue. "Someone's gonna see you." Remembering you lived on a busy street near pubs and shops, and it was Friday night you could only assume there were still people out and about enjoying the nightlife. Peering inside your car, your eyes locked on your jacket in the front seat.

"Maybe I can disguise you, and it is Friday night maybe people would be too drunk to notice."

"As long as we don't draw too much attention." You said, getting into your seat and starting up the engine. But something about saying those words aloud, felt like it was going to bite you in the ass but what’s the worst that can happen, you had him handled.

….

Here you were driving back home with the low-volume melody playing like before. However, this was different, before you were alone and you welcomed the tranquil ambiance you had riding home. But now you were riding back with an elusive creature. Creating an unsettling silence within the vehicle. What was maddening was that you were unsure what he was thinking, making you unsure of what to do besides drive. Maybe you were overthinking this but you felt you had to do something to break this disorienting atmosphere because this was too hard to fathom as reality.

"D-Do you want gum? L-Leftover pizza?" Your voice cracked, quickly clearing your throat asking again in a stronger confident voice.

No response. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel, sucking in your cheek prompting you to purse your lips in your endeavor of finding what else to say. Flitting your eyes back and forth from the road to looking around your car on what else to offer.

"My coat?"

No response again.

Looking at your rearview mirror to get a glimpse of the cryptid only to be met with its red eyes staring directly back at you. Hastily looking back to the road and sinking into your seat, alarmed. How long was he staring at you? Why was he staring? At least he seemed less disoriented now, but you didn’t need that right now, maybe you could draw his attention onto something else other than you.

"How about some air?" you asked, hoping he would stare out the window or put his head out, anything but him staring at you all the way home. Gliding your left hand over to the window control panel on the side of your door, you pushed down a button making his window rolled down. This captured his attention, redirecting his gaze towards the open window, watching the trees and road signs passing by. O thank god. but just as he turned his head to the outside, he took this as an invitation to spread his wings to catch some air.

"That doesn't mean you can start flapping, put your wings down." Whipping your head back and forth from the creature to the road, drawing a hand at him, swinging it around to get him to fold his wings down. "PUT YOUR WINGS DOWN! PUT YOUR WINGS DOWN!" Veering your car off to the side of the road.

.....

Back on the road, after sorting out the matter. "Okay, no rolled down windows." You remarked. Mothman looking like a perfect angel in the back tapping at the rolled-up window while you were in the front with your hair messed up and arms lightly scratched. You weren't a mother, but you now had a vague idea of what it would be like and further respect and admiration for them.

Needless to say, you rode the entire way back in silence without a single word being uttered.

…..

Steering your car on the side of the street in front of an apartment complex, you placed your car in park. You turned off the engine. Street lamps and other building lights were illuminating the street. The neon signs from the local business started to shut off, looked like some of them are turning in for the night.

You snatched your jacket from the passenger seat before slipping out and making your way to open Mothman’s car door.

"We need to move, quickly." Throwing your coat over him to conceal him in the event of someone walking by. Mothman pawed at the coat and clutching it closer to get a better look and smell of the material. After gathering your phone and keys, you whirled back toward Mothman. Fussing at him to not move the jacket, readjusting it over his head. You surveyed the streets for anyone coming down or seem like they are heading out in your direction.

Once more putting his arm around you, you strode as quickly as you possibly could to the complex without either of you falling over. Mercifully, you got to the door with no problem at all or bumping into anyone.

Until you heard something you’ve been dreading on the way home, something that made your heart sank down into the deep trenches of your stomach

"Holy shit! Is that Mothman!?!" A male voice exclaimed.

You whirled your head toward the stranger who was slowly approaching you two. Fuck!

Where did he come from and what made him so confident that he’s looking at Mothman. You glanced back over to Mothman noticing that the jacket that was covering his face, was now draped over his shoulders. Drastically you scoured your brain for an excuse or some sort of explanation to counter how this wasn't a cryptid. But he beat you to the punch before you had a chance to find a solid response.

"Dude sick costume!" He said excitedly.

O fuck. Relieved that it wasn't the worse, but you were surprised he didn't question any further especially how close he was to you both. Even you would've questioned, the details and just the overall realism of said 'costume'. It didn't take long for the answer to hit you square in the nose. When a waft of alcohol invaded your nostrils, the man was drunk, and you never were more grateful.

"Thanks." You nervously laughed.

"That’s crazy good man, you did this all yourself?” He asked enthusiastically towards Mothman, beholding every bit of intricacy on the creature.

"He can’t talk right now; he drank too much to function." You interjected. “We just got back from a party.”

"I gotcha, but is it okay if I get a photo though?"

FUCK! you blurted internally, but externally with faux delight, you said "Sure!"

" 'Chad' you cool with that?" you sheepishly asked your moth friend with the first name you could think of for him. And why were you asking him? As if he could make a cohesive verbal response. But you were hoping at this moment he could magically talk, alas all he did was blankly stare.

"I'm not hearing a no." You heard the man say and you woefully agreed.

"Gimme a sec." The man pulled out his phone and tapping it unlocked.

"Okay," your heart was racing in your chest and you could feel a layer of sweat beginning to form and pool in places. But by some sweet grace of some higher being, a miracle happened right before your eyes. You heard a melodious chime sweetly ring through the crisp early fall air.

"O dang getting a call, hold on" the man answered the call, turning his back towards you.

Maybe there was a god, after all, a fucking sadist with a sick sense of humor. Either way, you were not about to pass up this chance for a free getaway.

You took this God-given opportunity to jam your key into the lock swiftly to get the both of you inside. Twisting to unlock the entrance, you could overhear the man to what sounded like him wrapping up his conservation. Turning the knob, you ushered Mothman and yourself inside the apartment complex, but not without throwing a quick apology to the stranger. Slamming your back against the door shutting it closed, a wave of relief washed over you.

"Aw man, that was too close." leaning your head against the door, desperate for a quick breath from your ordeal. You hadn't felt this much adrenaline since, since. You were so winded you couldn't even recall a memory.

Peeling yourself off from the door, feeling ready to make the final steps home. Deceptively though your body wasn’t as ready to move just yet.

"Nope wait." still trying to catch your breath. Doubling over, leaning forward, and resting your hands on your knees. Mothman all the while just tilted his head at you, confused. While you were over there feeling like you were going to be sick. The wave of nausea quickly fading away allowing you to straighten yourself out.

"Okay, we're good." You said as you grabbed his hand leading him up the stairs. Unbeknownst to you, the large creature was zoning in at the unfamiliar contact.

During his entire time with you, he was just as wary of you as you were with him. He wasn’t one to present himself to people, only as a forewarning of what was to come or an indication that Mothman will be the very last thing they would see. He trailed and stalked others like you in your car but was never hit, that was a first for him. Albeit though, him getting hit with your car, leaving him cut up and bruised did give him another reason to be extremely defensive and antsy around you.

Yet, you were gentle, loud but gentle with him when he wasn’t. Risking your safety in an effort for him to get mended. Lightly ghosting his thumb over the soft skin of your hand, tightening his hold on you. But you didn't notice, you were too preoccupied with climbing higher up the stairs, vigilant for any neighbors.

"Come on we're almost to my place." Giving a reassuring hand squeeze.

"Try to stay quiet a little longer." Peering back at the cryptid flashing him a quick warm smile, before looking back straight ahead. The creature looked directly at you, then to stairs, and back to you again. He came up with a grand idea to help with your effort. But first, he had to gain your attention and for this to work, he had to disregard everything you told him not to do earlier. The cryptid started to emit his screech directly at you to get your attention. And to you, he was making a ruckus, that was echoing through the entire stairwell and halls.

"What part of stay quiet do you not understand?" Grimacing at the noise. You stopped your movement, aiming to cover his mouth with your free hand, you felt his mandibles tickling underneath your palm.

The creature pulled your hand away and into his own, clutching both of his hands close to himself, bringing you into him. This gesture was unexpected and left you feeling warm in the face by how close he was pressing you into him. But it didn't last long when he began to bend his knee and flap his wing readying himself to fly up.

"Wait don't" Pushing yourself away from him, you freed yourself from his grasp to stop his actions. He was still injured this would only cause more harm to him and to you if he tried doing what you thought he was about to do. In your effort to stop him, Mothman tried to reach out for you again, only for his wing to smack into you causing you to land on the hard edge of the concrete stairs; headfirst. “Shit."

Groaning, "Well, I deserved that." you brought your hand to your head, you winced at the touch. As you yanked your hand away you caught a glimpse of red in your peripherals. Bringing the hand in your line of vision you saw blood smeared on the tips of your fingers.

Mothman immediately brought his actions to a halt when he saw what he had done to you. His antennas drooped down, he came close, giving you a hand up. Gladly accepting the gesture, he brought you up to an upright position, he felt bad for what he had done to you. Tentatively, he brought a hand up, lightly swiping his claws over your forehead making a low pained screech.

“It’s okay, you just wanted help didn’t you.” He nodded in response, you pressed a hand to the wound preventing the blood from dripping down. You couldn’t be mad at him he didn’t know better, and you did hurt him first, it only felt fair. Disrupting this tender moment, you heard yelling and heavy footsteps approaching one of the doors on the floor you were on.

"Let’s go!" you rushed up the stairs, luckily for you both it was the final flight of stairs. Reaching the top of steps in record time when you heard the front swing door open.

"What's with all that commotion!?" A neighbor yelled upward toward the sound of your feet stomping up. Coming to an abrupt halt at your door, you whispered for Mothman to stay where he was, while you dealt with the matter below. But he decided to follow behind instead, not wanting to leave your side.

"Sorry I was just goofing" You admitted, showing your face over the rail, outing yourself to your neighbor.

"Sorry my ass, I got work early tomorrow, you expect me to sleep with this fucking racket outside, and now this." They argued back, and rightly so, who wouldn’t complain about an unearthly ear-piercing screech penetrating through the halls along with banging sounds hitting all around the walls. But you couldn’t help but feel annoyed

"I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, promise." You leaned forward resting against the rail while one leg was kicked up behind you, preventing Mothman from coming toward the railing. You exchanged a few more words with your neighbor to avoid the landlord getting involved. Finishing up, you pulled yourself away calling it wraps on the conversation as the individual below continued spewing profanities at you and about the building.

You unlocked and opened your door “In! In! In!" You shoved the imposing cryptid inside, already getting peeved by the neighbor's continuous rambling. It wasn’t anything new they hated everyone in the building, but it wasn’t something you grew used to though.

"Jesus Christ finally." you sighed, kicking the door behind shut.

Slipping off your shoes, leaving them by the entrance, your feet ached in relief from its constructing confines. Dragging yourself through the small hall leading the way to the main part of your home, it was small but cozy.

"Here we are home sweet home." you chimed, leading Mothman further into the living room, grabbing the jacket from him and tossing it to the couch. As well as turning on a lamp to properly illuminate the room. It didn't take long for Mothman to be drawn to the light fixture like the moth he was. He grabbed the lamp hugging it towards him, looking directly at the bulb. Chuckling at the sight, you could’ve given him a flashlight on the way home if he was going to be this mesmerized. You proceeded to make your way to the kitchen for your first aid kit.

"You can make yourself comfortable, but don’t wreck anything please," you shouted from the room over, but Mothman was unbothered, he was solely transfixed on the soft light, eyes wide and grabbing at the lampshade. "I'm gonna go find my first aid kit to fix you and my cut." You really hoped nothing else gets broken, there was already enough screaming and thrashing for the night.

Shuffling through the kitchen, trying to remember where you last placed the kit. You rested and slid a hand over the cool smooth linoleum counter, looking between cabinets for any sign of a small box. Coming to the last cabinet, you rummaged through before finally pulling out your first aid kit.

But you couldn’t help but stop and think about tonight’s events. It started as a fun night, then filled with pure dread, mothering, and now what felt like taking care of a drunk long-time friend. Except, what really dominated your mind was this odd feeling you started to feel, you recounted back in the hall the way he held you close. It made you feel bashful, to say the least. Up to now, you saw him as a friendly harmless dare you say, an unexpected friend. But that didn’t accurately describe what you were feeling. Shaking your heading, you had other pressing matters to attend to.

"Got it, let's see." And not to your surprise you saw the tall cryptid sitting on the couch, clutching the lamp close to him as if it was his lifeline. You contemplated whether you should take the lamp away. But he looked to be enjoying the light source, hearing faint happy chirps emitting from him. Sadly, you decided to ruin his fun, seeing as there were wounds you needed to tend to on his chest and you needed the light to properly see them.

You attempted to pull the lamp away so you could have better access to examine his injuries. In response, he chittered in objection to his lamp being taken, and nothing was going to separate him from his precious lamp. He was going to soon learn that the lamp was barely holding onto the outlet. Hugging it closer to himself, the plug came out, extinguishing the light. Perplexed as to where his light disappeared to, he presented the lamp towards you hoping you would bring the light back.

“I’ll bring it back, but only until I get a look at you.” He nodded vigorously as you grabbed the lamp and setting back on the mini table, blindingly trying to find the plug and inserting back into the outlet turning on the lamp again. You sat on the couch next to him, motioning for him to come closer so you could get to work.

......

"I don’t see any major cuts or anything broken." Scouting out the state of the injuries, they were honestly not that bad, you guessed it was probably due to the now dried flaky blood around his cuts gave the appearance that they worse than what they were. He got pretty lucky but it was probably due to his build that he was capable of taking on more than a couple of hits.

"Only just a sprain and a couple of cuts, that’s a relief" Thinking to yourself glad it wasn't any worse, you couldn't imagine the stress of trying to keep him at your apartment while he heals, and away from your neighbors’ eyes. The fear of him getting caught and taken away and dissected. Being bombarded by officials and Mothman lovers. And getting questioned or probed, maybe even both. You didn’t know if they would, but you knew deep in your heart they would probe you for answers. Stopping your paranoid-filled train of thought from delving any further. You finished tying up a couple of loose ends and sticking on on salve on minor areas.

"See all better. Don’t move too much, it'll heal quickly that way" Gathering any trash to throw away. Everything is fine now; you don’t have plans tomorrow so you could probably sneak him back out the next night.

Huh.

Letting him go. The idea of it should have given you some relief and yet you couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Would he come to visit again? No that would be reckless. Or you could convince him to stay longer to heal, no that would be irresponsible and selfish of you. He deserves to go back, and you're going to help him get back on his feet and let him be on his way. You walked back to the room.

“Feel much better?” you inquired to Mothman who busy was playing with the bandages on him.

He looked directly at you and nodded in response.

"That’s good, the sooner you get better the sooner you can leave," you told him, seating yourself back next to Mothman who hasn’t kept his eyes off of you. You peered up to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, only to capture him looking directly at you with his head tilted.

Not this again. you thought.

He’s certainly not making this any easier. You looked away trying to focus on anything else in the room before you resorted to looking at the floor.

"You know it’s still kinda crazy, that this is even real. Like I feel like I’m going insane," you jokingly confessed to Mothman, laughing to yourself. But you thought about it more, maybe you were, "O my God is this what a psychological break is?" You looked back at him, having an unfazed look on him.

"Can I?" you asked reaching a hand forward. He stared at your hand for a bit, until he leaned forward giving you permission to proceed.

"So soft" allowing yourself to fully feel him, combing your hand through his dark fur and traveling up his ruff. It was surprisingly plush for how it looked, it felt you were touching a cloud but with some tiny debris within it. You gathered more courage to let your hand wander up to his face, giving a couple of brushes before stopping your motion, cupping the side face. His eyes were a brilliant red color comparable to a lustrous gem.

"You really are real." You muttered, stroking a thumb over his cheek.

Mothman brought a clawed hand to your face in a likewise manner, curious of your own features. Where for him he found them peculiar and to other individuals such as yourself they found it normal. The universe was messed up, making it much harder for you to separate yourself from him when the time comes for him to leave, but you allowed this, forgetting your initial plan.

Feeling a sharp claw gliding up against your skin, perfectly capable of nicking you or doing so much worse to you than you could imagine. But he had no intention to do so, merely entranced by you.

His hand wandered up to your forehead, where your gash was, flaky and dried the blood was chipping at the edges. His antennas lowered and chirped in response, for what he did to you back at the stairwell, he didn't mean to. Even if you said it was alright, it still didn’t make him better, bringing a hand to skim the wound, you flinched at the sharp pain of your forgotten injury, knocking you out of your trance-like state.

Mothman drawing back in his seat, alert and worried thinking he hurt you again.

“It’s okay, you did nothing wrong.”

You reached a hand out to calm him, you aimed for his arm but managed to miss and land your hand on his thigh. Wow, that’s great! you internally cringed feeling a blush rush over you, instead of pulling back you still tried to alleviate him by patting his leg, telling him it was the injury that was hurting you not him.

Instead of defusing his concerned mindset, he only tried to push away from you to avoid causing you any further harm. Hand still anchored on his thigh, you launched yourself trying to stop him from hurting himself more.

Fortunately, with your luck, you ended up top of him, Mothman laying on the couch while you hovered over him, with both of your legs planted on either side of his thigh. Your left knee was alarming close to his crotch if you moved an inch closer you would be bumping your knee right into it. Your hands rested squarely on his chest, finger splayed out as you looked down at him with a similar wide-eyed expression.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Maintaining your effort of trying to console Mothman, you coughed to clear your throat and your mind of any dirty thoughts from springing up. “Hey, I know you didn’t mean to, and if you did, I would tell you and- and I’m sorry that I gave you the impression that you hurt me and I’m sorry for hitting you with my car, I feel like saying it doesn’t do justice for what I did.” You panted after your long-winded speech.

“Also, I’m sorry for tackling you down that wasn’t my intention. So, you good? I didn’t hurt you?”

He slowly shook his head, as a response that you didn’t hurt him. Startled yes. Hurt no. Bobbing your head in understanding, you carefully crawled off him.

"Well, I guess I should go get the blood washed off, I'll be right back." You informed the still cryptid who made no effort of getting up, just continued to lay on the couch staring straight ahead in shock.

Walking off to clean off the blood and to regain your composure. You were just going through too many emotions than you should for the night. On your way to take care of your problem, you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a cat purring where Mothman was. But you blew it off and justified it as hearing the blood rushing and the beat of your heart pounding in your ears.

Striding down a hall and into the bathroom you turned the faucet on allowing the water to flow into the sink and onto your hands. Water pooled in your cupped hands before splashing the cold water onto your face, the water, and dried blood dripping together down around the curves and grooves of your face into the porcelain bowl below. It was a satisfying contrast to your heated face, splashing another round of water at your face but an intrusive memory replayed the moment that happened a few seconds ago. Leaving your face buried in your hands, groaning from sheer embarrassment. Fucking hell why am I like this?!

Unwillingly you slid your hands off and look at yourself in the mirror you looked like the accurate personification of a hot mess. You weren’t going to think too much into this, you are going to pretend what happened didn’t happen, you were going to disinfect and stick a bandage on your cut and not dwell on your emotions around the situation at hand. Allowing him to leave as soon as he is better and not have any other affiliations with him again.

Opening the medicine cabinet for an alcohol wipe and unwrapping the wipe from its small packaging.

"Now for the worst part." Quietly hissing at the contact with the antiseptic. Finishing up on cleaning the wound, you foraged through the cabinet looking for a bandaid. Noting there wasn’t one to be found, you sighed.

Guess I need to go find one.

Turning toward the door to walk out, you looked up and saw Mothman standing at the doorway, watching.

How long was he standing? And how the hell is he so silent for such a big guy and why wasn't he like this before? You were about to question him what he was doing here or if needed something when you noticed he was fiddling with a band-aid in hand. Slowly he brought it up, placing it over your cut.

"Thanks." Laying a hand over the band-aid, feeling not just your cheeks warming up but now a butterfly feeling in your stomach, solidifying your emotions for him.

So much for my plan.

Weaseling past him, before enthusiastically asking him, "Well, we got time to pass, so what do you want to do?"

…..

The sun rays bled through the curtains lightening up your home, the light seeping past your eyelashes and into your eyelids forcing you to wake up. Blinded by the light, you groaned in discomfort, pushing yourself up hearing a couple pops in your back. Rubbing a hand up and down your face trying to wipe away the sleep.

What the hell happened here? Why was there glass everywhere? Looking up you saw your window smashed in with only a few jagged pieces in place around the sides. Turning your attention away you looked around the room, wasn’t there someone else here. O yeah.

But the question was, how did you end up falling asleep on the floor, and where was the large cryptid. Wait a minute.

…

"No, you can't go out, you're still hurt." Trying to hold him back from going through the window. Everything was fine, you both were sitting on the couch, watching whatever, and snacking on fruit, and next, you found yourself asleep but woke up to a ruckus, the tv still on, and seeing Mothman trying to rip the curtain off the window nearby. Jumping to action to stop him, he successfully pulled off the curtains along with the rack, you assumed he was trying to leave even though he wasn’t better or so you thought.

And here you were struggling to hold him back, you thought he was difficult before but now that he fully adjusted and patched, you fully experienced that he was pure indomitable power.

"At least wait till the street is clear." You insisted, noticing some people walking or jogging down the street in the dark early morning. But he didn't listen he was adamant in making his exit. So, you made the decision to let him go.

"Okay, okay at least let me get the window, I don’t want glass on the floor." Racing in front of him to slide the window open. A quick gust of wind whipped against your face, causing you to squint your eyes in response.

"There! AH-!" the last thing you saw was Mothman coming at you and the last thing you felt was his frame bulldozing you down by fast approaching torso.

…

"O right." That explains how you ended up on the floor and the glass strewn all over the floor. More incredibly, even when you opened the window, the creature still managed to break the window in its haste to leave. Your head was pounding, he really is a force to be reckoned with. Bringing a hand to your head, you winced at the contact to your forehead but noticed something else. Delicately raising a hand back to your forehead and skimming along the surface. There was the band-aid from the stairwell and on the other side was another. You didn’t remember adding when did you?

Oh.

……

"My window," you muttered groggily, your vision fading out not before the moth creature gave his assistance to you for the last time and a thanks to you by sticking a band-aid on your sure-to-be bruised noggin as you lulled into an unconscious state.

……

At least bug boy was nice enough to get you another band-aid when he put you out cold, before making his exit. Slowly standing up to get started on assessing the mess and knowing full well that you needed to inform your landlord of the window. You peered out the window, curious of any indication of Mothman to spot, unfortunately, all there was to see the was hustle and bustle of the city around and below.

Turning your attention back to the mess, maybe you could make a fib of some large man drunk man pretending to be Mothman breaking into your home believing it was his. Sighing, you went to grab a broom to clean up the mess, at least you were able to encounter a real living and breathing legend. Made you wonder if other cryptids exist, but you’re pretty sure handling one creature was enough for now after last night.

Finishing up, you gathered all the shards and brought them to the trash. You didn’t have work for today, which gave you the opportunity to get a breather and get things done. Making your way to your room and getting ready for the day.

As you were getting clothes on and getting a good look at yourself in the mirror. There square above your eyes and your right eye was a bruise evident from last night's escapades. Shaking your head, laughing to yourself you weren’t going to be able to cover up the contusion. Bringing a hand to your head, you couldn’t help but smile at the cryptids' cute gesture. Walking out of the restroom deciding to let the shiner shine, ready to do some damage control.

Grabbing your keys, and heading out the door, and yet you couldn't stop thinking of that little moth guy. What are the chances of seeing him again? Probably unlikely, a mere once in a lifetime chance but you were grateful to encounter a sweet bug boy like him.

[migila]

I really loved this scene between Naruto and Boruto!

First of all, the mood in the scene is impressive. Mostly the lighting; when showing Boruto’s face, the picture is bright due to the light coming in from the window, yet when it’s Naruto’s face, it gets darker, the light from behind him shading his face. It fits the mood perfectly. As for the sad music in the scene, while it could’ve started earlier, I can understand why it started after Boruto realized Naruto was talking about himself. It reflects not only Naruto’s, but also Boruto’s feelings.

Second, I’m glad that Boruto actually brought up what bothered him, and even happier with the way Naruto handled it. First, he assures his son that he has the situation under control (I didn’t put that scene here because there were already so many pics and that’s not as relevant for this post as the rest), and then proceeds to tell why he decided to do things this way, instead of just saying that his decision is final and leaving it at that. Of course, he makes it clear that he isn’t changing his mind, but he’s still ready to hear Boruto’s opinion and to explain his own reasoning. That’s exactly how an adult should handle important decisions. 

The third point is a little darker, something that I didn’t even really catch the first time watching this scene. The thing is, Naruto looks so sad here, which tells us that as happy as he is with his life now, the childhood trauma(s) is still haunting him. No wonder there; I don’t think that he ever had much of a chance to talk about it with anyone aside from his dead parents, who he probably didn’t want to worry too much, and what’s worse, I don’t think anyone ever actually apologized for how they treated him. That’s one thing I never liked about the series; even after he became the hero of the village and later of the whole world, we saw not one of his old tormentors step up and apologize. This is something even Kumogakure does better since Motoi eventually, after around 30 years, steps up and apologizes to Killer Bee, the eight tails’ jinchuuriki, after regretting the way he treated him for years. So, yay for Motoi of Kumogakure, nay for all the shinobi of Konoha!

And as a very unpleasant cherry on the top, Naruto now thinks that the treatment he received was understandable due to the circumstances. I mean, in a sense yes, but the way he says it it’s like he thinks it can’t be helped and that the people of Konoha don’t owe him anything, like an apology. And that’s just sick; they’ve made the victim, in this case Naruto, think that they didn’t do anything that they should apologize for. Konoha did victim blaming, and it worked on Naruto, full force. Actually, I think it might’ve already worked on him as a little kid, since he seemed to think that only after he’d become Hokage, the villagers would start respecting him as a fellow human being. As in, he had accepted the fact that he had to work hard just to get some basic human decency which everyone else takes for granted. And that’s depressing.

But yeah, good episode!

[whentheynameyoujoy]

Hey:) have you read the ATLA comic Love is a Battlefield? I'd love to hear your thoughts on it !

The comic makes me seriously wonder what the person who okayed it was drinking.

For one, it’s the single best demonstration anyone might need that the conflict the ship is based on isn’t one you want to have in your romance under any circumstances—that between a girl who’s just not that into a guy and said guy who won’t take no for an answer.

It single-handedly validates every anti-cataanger out there—Aang’s portrayed as entitled, selfish, and utterly delusional about his relationship with Katara who is supposed to have no voice in it and quietly conform to his idea of her and their bond instead of functioning as a separate being with her own wants and notions.

But let’s bring the receipts, shall we?

So the story begins innocuously enough, with Aang drawing the air and water symbols in the sand and adding a heart around them. Cute and innocent so far, I like. Katara appears, acting as though she wants to talk to him, and Aang concludes it’s about the invasion kiss. Why would he think that is beyond me but let’s roll with it. But instead of delving into that particular can of worms, Katara splashes Aang with some water in an attempt to get him to practice.

He doesn’t take it well.

Notice the bold “finally”. What this says to me is that in Aang’s mind, it’s Katara’s job to come to him and report as his girlfriend, just by virtue of being kissed, and it’s been mighty upsetting to him that she “failed” to do so.

After all, consider The Ember Island Players:

“We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together.”

Aang doing a thing means that Aang & Katara did a thing mutually.

In his view, he isn’t supposed to be the one who approaches her and explains why he saw fit to plant one on her; who opens up about his feelings and initiates a frank conversation. No, that was a claiming kiss at the invasion and Katara can only acknowledge it as such and reciprocate.

Our Every RomCom Guy Ever doesn’t realize that Katara not talking to him about it is the answer to where they stand.

This is the third time in as many pages, btw, that Katara tries to get Aang to practice. And for a good reason because we’re a short while removed from The Western Air Temple where he yet again refused to face up to an unpleasant truth and instead had to be literally chased around like an unruly child. Katara’s fully in a sifu mode here, not even perceiving the opportunity to talk about their relationship. And if an assertive fourteen-year old doesn’t think to talk about her second ever kiss with the guy who gave it to her, that should tell you all you need to know about how much she appreciated it.

Aand that’s fourth time. Katara really seems to think that taking down this Fire Lord dude is important or something and that Aang is once again failing to prepare for it. Look, she even has a nickname for it at this point. Yet for some reason, Nice Guy Aang reframes the situation—WHILE HIDING IN A LITERAL ROCK—as a role reversal where it’s Katara running away from confrontation and having to face the truth, even though he revealed in this very scene that he didn’t think it was his job to be open about his feelings with the girl he believes he loves.

At last, Katara realizes Aang’s hinting at the invasion kiss and reacts like any girl who’s harbouring a secret crush would—by visibly cringing and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s talking about and the wind’s really strong for her to hear what he’s saying anyway so maybe it’d be a good idea for Aang to come out and practice? (fifth time)

Finally, supreme gentleman Aang does the one thing he’s not supposed to do—he loses control and depending on how charitable you are either puts Katara in harm’s way (by firebending, weird how that keeps happening), or outright assaults her in blind rage.

Luckily, Katara’s just glad that Zuko’s training is yielding results and maybe the world won’t end in an Ozai-induced inferno by the end of the summer.

Scorned LoverBoi couldn’t give less of a shit, though.

And there you have it, explicitly in the text. Katara, despite showing no signs of attraction and not encouraging Aang’s advances in any way, is perceived by him as someone who’s cruelly toying with his feelings—simply because her reactions don’t conform to what he wants them to be. The relationship is utterly about him and it’s so mean of Katara that she doesn’t feel like playing the demure cut-out in his hero-gets-the-girl routine.

Let’s not mince words, this is some prime incel logic Aang’s operating on.

And the creators don’t seem to realize this. Which is why they never challenge him on his behaviour in the show, reward it in the finale, and go on reaffirming it in every single post-canon material there is.

And I find it sort of infuriatingly hilarious that someone not only conceived of the ship this way, but thought it was a good idea to present it to the world as a basic vanilla romance.

Which makes me wonder.

Because as strange as this might sound, there is a universe where this story is not only perfectly okay, but absolutely crucial to the overall narrative.

That is if the show actually followed up on The Guru and culminated in Aang letting go of Katara to unlock the Avatar state.

From start to finish, the comic proves Pathik completely and utterly right—what Aang feels for Katara isn’t selfless love, it’s selfish attachment. But instead of it being cloaked in vague religious language, we see it manifest in a painfully tangible way. The story’s kinda unintentionally brilliant if you read it like this—it’s show to Pathik’s tell. Aang is too wrapped up in what he feels to see the signs and runs away from having to acknowledge the painful reality that’s clearly evident, i.e. that Katara doesn’t love him. And because he’s so invested in his delusions, he blows up whenever challenged on them, acting on entitlement and baseless expectations and going so far as to slowly kill the beautiful relationship they actually do have—a lifelong bromance.

If this story foreshadowed that Aang needed to let go of his attachment not only to save the world, but to even keep Katara in his life, I’d be fully on board.

But for that to happen, the creators would have to take a step back, start considering perspectives beyond Aang’s, and stop treating him like an infallible bringer of truths who deserves human prizes just for doing his job.

And if they were able to do that then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.

[glennmillerorchestra]

i've calmed down a little bit so here is part one of my thoughts on mikey and nicky (below the cut for spoilers!)

- first and foremost it is not an enjoyable movie in any respect. which is not to say it isn't extremely well-done (because it is!) and not to say that it isn't worth watching (because it is!)- essentially what i mean is that it is so lifelike, so intimate, so gritty and real and honest that it basically becomes an extension of the viewer, as though they are experiencing the scenes being played out right along with the characters, and it hurts like hell to go through it! it hurts and it pokes at you and it makes you physically uncomfortable, like this is something you shouldn't be seeing because it isn't. and that's what makes it work. the unpleasantness makes it genuine and it makes it worth watching, because it forces you to experience the dirtiness of life right alongside mikey and nicky

- i put this in the tags of maddie's post but during the movie i saw the storyline as very comparable to the old folk tale of the skeleton dog. essentially, a man has a faithful dog he's had forever, known forever, loved forever, but there's a flood on the way. in order to save the earth he must throw his dog into the first waters of the flood, and is grappling with the morality of this decision, for he loves his dog and doesn't want to see his faithful companion die. however, as time goes on the dog keeps getting more irritating to him, more obnoxious, more of a pain in his side, and he finally is so fed up, he goes through with the sacrifice. when the man finally picks up the dog to throw into the water, the dog comes apart into bones and the man realizes his dog was a skeleton all along- dead from the beginning.

i think you can all see why i would compare mikey and nicky to this story but i'll give my thoughts anyways.

as maddie said, nicky is dead from the beginning- it's obvious the minute we see him reading the newspaper about his dead partner. when mikey shows up, he's already prepared to take care of nicky, to love and worry over his faithful companion- but he is unable to commit because he has to kill nicky, which again, is obvious as soon as he places the first call. as mikey grapples with the idea of killing nicky all through the first act, we can see his slow acceptance of the idea; much like the man, he does not want to sacrifice his closest friend, but as nicky keeps pushing him, keeps humiliating him, keeps stringing him along, mikey grows tired of the same routine. the minute mikey and nicky fight is the minute mikey decides to throw nicky into the river, leading him to seek out the hitman and get rid of nicky for good. HOWEVER when nicky dies in the straightforward way elaine may portrays it as, just like the skeleton dog, it meant nothing. nicky was already dead, and his sacrifice didn't help or harm anyone, it simply happened. there's no theatrics, no weeping, no obituaries or funerals because nicky didn't matter. he was dead from the beginning.

- final point for this post! nicky died in broad daylight after the entire movie has taken place at night. the way i see the motif of night and day is that we are a different person under the cover of night than we are when faced with the harsh realities of daylight.

nicky, in the crudest of terms, is a jackass at night. he's manipulative, cocky, brash, even cruel, and yet in that final bright morning scene before his death? he's desperate, frightened, every trace of cockiness and aggression gone. his night persona has vanished, because he can no longer hide in the dark cover of night, he has to quite literally man up and face the fact that he's going to die right in the middle of a sunny suburban morning. it's cruel and it's fitting and it's exactly what was coming to him.

meanwhile mikey is caring at night- he's constantly trying to help nicky, calming him down, holding him, supporting him, but as the night grows back into morning, mikey grows far colder. by the time morning really rolls around, mikey no longer cares about nicky, and just wants him out of his life and out of his mind. therefore, we see the change from him scrambling to comfort nicky within the comforting secrecy of night to him actively locking nicky out of his life and leaving him to die in the harsh light of day (i could say more on this in terms of their relationship but that's for a shorter post). it's just a masterful shift in relationship with the setting of the movie and works so well within the story.

[snarkwrites]

ssw | embry call ; let me take care of you.

NOTES:

As I said yesterday... I’m going to break down the list of prompts I originally intended to use for just one one-shot into a few different ones for this because I just felt like the first one flowed so well using only the one... This is the second part to the one shot I posted yesterday. And there will be at least a few more parts after this. I can’t say when they’ll be coming, but I can say they will be coming eventually.

Again, same as yesterday.. I am not a medical professional. Nor have I ever had amnesia of any kind. I’m trying my best with this, so apologies if it doesn’t seem realistic or whatever...If it matters/bothers anyone, that is.

Question though.. Would anyone be interested in at least one part of this being written in his point of view? Because I feel like it’d be interesting to write that way... It’d be third person..

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ]. The prompt used for inspiration here was obviously, Let me take care of you.

FANDOM / CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OFC, Merisa.

OTHER WORKS EMBRY & MERISA ARE FOUND IN:

[ he looks down. she looks up. ] 

WARNINGS:

amnesia tw, vague injuries mentioned tw, just gonna say her current soon to be ex boyfriend is an actual piece of garbage so.. yeah.. Sexual tension. Beyond all these, there’s not really anything else I can think of.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​  is the only one currently on my Twilight taglist. If you see this and you’d like to be tagged also, add yourself to the doc below or lmk. It’ll make me super happy.

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The phone rang, shattering the silence and my train of thought. Okay, so it wasn’t a train of thought because I was more or less staring out the window of my grandmother’s living room and watching Embry Call work on my grandmother’s old car out in the driveway, but.. The phone was a distraction I didn’t want.

I grumbled when it didn’t go quiet. And after a few more seconds I’d had all I could take of the high pitched sound in all it’s annoying glory. I sprang up from the couch gingerly, grabbing up the remote to pause the true crime documentary I’d been engrossed in about Richard Ramirez and I hobbled into the kitchen, wincing every step of the way.

A scowl filled my face and I tensed up just as soon as I picked up and I heard Greg on the other end of the line. Upon hearing his voice, all sorts of unpleasant memories came rushing back. It was too much. 

“Merisa?”

“What, Greg?” I snapped. Impatient. Peering out my grandma’s living room window. Biting my bottom lip as I watched Embry tug the stained tank top he was wearing up over his head and wipe at sweat on his forehead with it before tossing it on the concrete slab next to his open toolbox.

“I asked you a question.” Greg cleared his throat expectantly.

Is it bad that I was so caught up in watching Embry do mechanic things outside that I didn’t even attempt to make an effort to listen to a damn word Greg said? Because this is exactly what happened.

“I wasn’t listening.”

Greg gave an annoyed huff at my honest answer and I rolled my eyes. Grumbling. The crackle of static over the phone line breaking through for a second or two. Whether I asked for him to repeat himself or not didn’t matter at all because Greg went on and asked his question again anyway.

“I said don’t you think you should be planning to return to Seattle soon? You were only supposed to be gone for a few days. It’s been nearly four weeks.” Greg stated. Pausing for a minute to grumble to himself about how this was typical of me, telling him one thing and then doing something entirely different.

And I snapped.

“Does the fact that I nearly died three and a half weeks ago just not mean anything to you at all or..?” I snarled, going quiet for a second or two. Determined to stay calm. But exploding felt so damn satisfying. It was hard to resist. I got the feeling that I spent 90 percent of my time around Greg biting my tongue and that had me wondering why. What did this guy have that kept me with him? The more I wondered about it, the harder it was to come up with any real sort of answer.

“Sorry. I should know better than to ask questions I already know the answer to.” I apologized. In my own petty way, of course.

Greg took my apology as sincerity and he sighed. Disappointed, obviously because I wasn’t there to tend to his every stupid whim. “I’m sorry too, it’s just.. I told you we had plans. You know how important this weekend is to me and the fact that you’re not even trying to come back… I’m just disappointed, sweetheart. That’s all.”

,, well excuse the fuck out of me for grieving. excuse me for loving my mother enough to want to go to her funeral. Excuse me for nearly dying and needing to heal and getting in the way of your precious plans,asshole.” I wanted to say it so badly that I had to bite the insides of my cheeks and ball my hands into fists just to keep it in. I sighed. “Instead of making this harder than it has to be, you could actually be a caring boyfriend and come to make sure I’m okay… I mean.. I am dealing with memory loss and injuries...”

Surprise, surprise. He suddenly had a thousand excuses as to why he couldn’t -and wouldn’t, just do that. And my stomach churned. Did he even give a shit? Why was I still wasting my time? Why had I even bothered answering the phone in the first place this time?

I made up my mind right then. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I was going to block him on all socials. I was going to block his number on my cell phone. And if I saw his name on my grandmother’s caller ID when the phone rang, I was just going to walk out of the room.

“I’ve gotta go.” I muttered. Before Greg could say anything else,  I hung up the phone angrily. Slamming it down on it’s cradle.

From the doorway, Embry cleared his throat and stepped into the living room. “Trouble in paradise?”

“If that’s what paradise is I’d hate to imagine hell.” I flopped back on the couch dramatically. Wincing when yes, it still hurts to move certain ways. Or too much at once. 

Embry sat down in my grandmother’s recliner. Staring intently at the television which was paused on the clubhouse scene from Dirty Dancing.

I grabbed my cell phone from the end table and did exactly what I made up my mind to do. Blocking Greg on every single one of my socials. And out of pettiness, I changed my relationship status on Instagram to single.

He’d never even bothered to change his, if memory serves. Why had I changed mine?

There was still so much I had left to fill in as far as my memory gaps, but it was coming back in leaps and bounds. Something told me that the last thing I needed to have done was return to Seattle. Otherwise, I might not have ever remembered or  even realized to begin with, what kind of man I was involved with because I’m pretty sure that Greg wouldn’t have started to really show his true self.

He’d done a pretty fair job of hiding just how controlling and easily irritated by the slightest inconvenience he really was so far, I mean, I hadn’t dropped his ass.

I smirked in satisfaction as I put down my phone. 

I happened to glance over at Embry to find him staring at me. Like he wanted to say something or he was lost in thought. Before I could help myself, I was staring right back. Getting pulled into the depths of his eyes. Eventually dropping my gaze down. Lingering on his mouth when he licked his lips.

I couldn’t stop staring. This was starting to become habit whenever he was around. Especially if he wasn’t paying attention so I knew I could stare to my hearts content and get away with it.

I stood and cleared my throat. “I’m gonna go get myself some lemonade. Do you want anything?” I asked as I walked over to the doorway leading into the kitchen.

“If there are any more bottled waters?” Embry asked hopefully. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. And as soon as I was in the kitchen, I leaned against the fridge. Fanning myself with one of my grandmother’s magazines that happened to be sitting on the counter.

After I managed to pull myself together just a little bit, I grabbed a bottled water for Embry and I poured myself a glass of lemonade. And when I turned to walk back into the living room, I found myself body to body with Embry as he stepped into the doorway between the two rooms.

My thighs clenched just a little at the way it felt to be pressed against him. Hard muscles against my own softness. For a second, when I opened my mouth to tell him I’d gotten his water like he asked for, the words hung in my throat.

Finally, I managed to get it out. “Your water, sir.” I held out the water bottle to him and after holding it against the back of his neck for a few seconds, he uncapped it, practically swallowing down half the bottle in one gulp.

Eyes locked on me the entire time. I know this because I’ll be damned if I could stop staring at him either. I tried. And failed.

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, right.. You probably wanted to wash your hands…” I stepped out of the doorway, pouting to myself a little because the second physical contact was broken, I missed the feel of his body against mine.

He walked over to the sink. Turning it on. Washing his hands. And I happened to notice he had a few busted knuckles.

“You need those sanitized. C’mere.” I nodded to the stool on the other side of the counter. Embry shrugged. Muttered that it wasn’t a big deal.

“It’s called infection setting in. And it can happen.” I insisted, nodding to the stool again. When he shook his head and took another sip of water and calmly insisted that he was fine, I shook my head and hobbled over. Grabbing hold of the hand that wasn’t injured. Leading him to the stool. “Sit.”

“Okay, alright. You know, you’re a lot bossier than I remember.” Embry muttered, gazing down at me. Even sitting down he was still taller. Bigger.

I stuck out my tongue at him. “If it keeps you from getting a nasty infection in your hand, I’ll take it.” I muttered. My gaze settling on him. Instantly getting sucked right back into those deep brown eyes and lost.

After a second or two of both of us staring at each other yet again, I cleared my throat. “I should go find the first aid kit.”

“It’s under the sink.” Embry answered quietly. I bit my lip. Nodding as I muttered mostly to myself, “Under the sink.” and turned away to get it.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m telling you, it’s fine. I deal with this all the time. Kind of happens when you work at a garage, Merisa…” Embry trailed off as I glanced back at him and stated in a firmer tone, “Let me take care of you, okay?”

I grabbed the bottle of peroxide and a rag. Sitting on the stool adjacent to his. Grabbing hold of his hand and placing it in my lap.

“You have tiny hands.” Embry muttered, almost sounding dazed. I glanced up at him through a curtain of hair as it fell right into my face because I bent my head just a little to see his hand better. I swallowed hard. Trying not to think of how good it felt to have his hand in mine. Or on my body.

When I exhaled, it was shaky.

That had me raising a brow.

If this man had one tenth of a clue just what he stirred up in me, I swear to God…

He jumped as the peroxide made contact with the open wounds, bubbling and fizzing as it cleaned the wounds out. 

A memory came back to me… I was younger. Probably around five. My grandmother sat on the stool Embry currently sat on and I sat on the stool I was currently sitting on. My leg was in her lap and she was dabbing some red liquid on it that burned like the fire of ten thousand hells. I was crying and trying to jerk my leg away, but my grandma just held onto it. And when she finished, she leaned in… Blowing gently on my injured knee. 

As the bubbling started to slow down, I raised Embry’s hand, leaning down. Blowing on the knuckles a little. Glancing up at him and teasing playfully, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I’ve felt worse.” he finally mumbled after we’d been locked in a quiet staredown for what felt like minutes instead of seconds. 

It sank in that I was still holding onto his hand. And he wasn’t making an effort to pull his hand away, either.

My grandmother cleared her throat from the doorway and smirked at the two of us playfully as she came in, sitting groceries on the counter. “Am I interrupting something, Merisa?”

“No, not at all.” I answered. Smiling. Letting go of Embry’s hand as my cheeks burned. I felt like a teenager just walked in on by her parents.

Embry slid off the stool and brushed his hands over his jeans. “I need to get back to it.” he muttered. Hurrying out of the house. As soon as the screen door banged shut behind him, I let out a ragged breath. Fanning myself with the magazine again.

Trying to ignore the look I was getting from my grandmother.

When she couldn’t resist any longer, she spoke up. “He’s single.. If you’re wondering.”

“Grandma!” I laughed out, shaking my head. My gaze lingering on the window. Fixed on him.

My grandmother spoke up again. “It’s been so nice having you here, Mermaid… It’ll be a shame to see you go.”

Before I really stopped to think about it, I replied “ Honestly? I’m tempted to stay.”

My grandmother pulled me into a tight hug. Smiling at me as the hug broke. “I won’t stop you. The decision is yours.”

I nodded. Waiting until she was in the other room with one of her soap operas going full blast before I wandered back over to the window that faced where Embry currently was outside. Staring out at him with my fingertips pressed against the glass.

I thought he’d caught me one time because he stopped what he was doing beneath the hood of the car to glance around the yard. I moved away from the window quickly, shaking my head and laughing at myself about it.

I’ll repeat. If Embry Call had one tenth of a clue the effect he had on me...