#infecting yet another random post with this joke

[laismoura-art]

@mikka-minns Minnie, Minnie, Minnie look!

It's next month's rent money!

The moment he said "spoils of war" I knew exactly what he meant!🤣🤣

THATS IT, KUAI

THATS WHERE ONE-EYED WILLY BURIED HIS GOLD!!

[darkwingsnark]

DR. Mario Universe Bowuigi AU

Random because of another night of being up from pain, but I wish there was more fan content centered around Dr. Mario Au shenanigans. With it being a more work-based medical drama, with maybe the idea that Luigi isn't a fellow doctor and just happens to be the brother of a world renown infectious disease specialist. Mario still has his rivalry with Bowser, just as co-workers with a competitive streak. Luigi visits the hospital often to have lunch with his brother at the hospital food court, more so as he can make sure his older bro is actually making time for it. He's known for being so into his work that he'll skip meals. So of course Luigi has heard his brother come home and complain about that no-good orthopedic doctor keeps dismissing his help when patients tend to have conditions that overlap-- like infections post operations. Or stuff like hearing about fights going down in the hospital during meetings.  So when Luigi breaks his leg, of course he's nervous when that means he'll be sent to the guy his brother hates. That he is told is very demanding and confrontational. Only for Bowser to be an amazing doctor, if blunt and sassy. And he recognizes Luigi as being the guy Mario has lunch with, putting pieces together when he sees his chart. Luigi expects Dr. Bowser to start treating him cruelly. To take out his aggression from Mario out on HIM. Only for Bowser to actually open up more and get chattier-- cracking jokes rather than keeping it strictly business. Well well well, after all that big talk from the guy, looks like there's something Mario CAN'T do: treat his brother. WELP, looks like I'm gonna have t'rub it in that jerk's face n' show 'im how it's done! Cue Luigi and Bowser seeing each other a lot more as Bowser-- from his own sense of pride and wanting to make Mario feel like utter shit-- taking on a lot more of the treatment than he would usually do. Usually he'd pass thing off to Resident Docs or physical therapists. But oooh no, not with THE Dr. Mario's brother! Gotta show that guy up! Luigi's gonna go home and have to constantly tell that clown how wonderfully he's being treated. Mario, of course, is frustrated on some level. But he can't complain when the koopa gets results. Seeing his brother heal and get better is all he really cares about.... Even if he doesn't like the fact he has to hear his baby bro talk about his obvious crush on Dr. Bowser, that he himself doesn't realize yet.

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,103 Gabriel x Reader Warnings: none! A/N: This is part of a series! Read Part 1 first!

Your name: submit What is this?

The first door standing open down the long hallway was obviously your bedroom, and Gabriel wasn’t shy about stepping inside. At first, he simply stood in the center and glanced around eagerly, bouncing a little on his feet as he surveyed the space.

Cas followed him in much more tentatively, but curious as to what his purpose was.

“This is it, huh?” He strolled over to the small desk in one corner and picked up an open notebook and some loose papers, studying them closely. Apparently, nothing there really held his interest because he abandoned them quickly and started sliding open desk drawers.

“This is—I think this is what humans would call an ‘invasion of privacy,’” Cas said.

“Gabriel, I really don’t think you should—” Cas tried to argue, but the archangel simply shushed him and opened the cover. He ran his fingers over your handwriting—the impressions were deep on the page and he liked the slanting, hurried cursive. “Ghouls in Minnesota, Vampire in New York, Werewolf in Arkansas… This is nothing but hunting notes,” he said with disappointment, flipping through the pages.

“What did you expect?” Cas asked him.

“Something with a little more insight into who Y/N is, perhaps,” Gabriel said, shutting and typing the journal closed again and replacing it in the false bottom of your drawer, kicking it closed with his boot. “Hopes, dreams, roots, deepest secrets… that sort of thing,” he said.

Cas’s brow drew down low over his eyes again. “Knowing Y/N, I seriously doubt you will find any of that in writing in here…”

“Well, that’s just wishful thinking. Best case scenario. I will just have to get creative,” he said. Gabriel spun and looked at the small bedside table. There was a novel sitting on it and he grabbed it, opening it to the bookmark. “Y/N is an avid reader, hmm?” he said, more to himself than to Cas. “This is an ambitious read.” He studied the bookmark which was a folded piece of paper. When he opened it, it was a printed photo of you, Sam and Dean, and Cas. Sam had his arm draped over your shoulders and all of you were smiling for once. Gabriel stared at it for a long moment and Cas watched his expression soften into a thoughtful, faraway look. Finally, he folded it up again gently and replaced it in the novel, leaving it on your side table just the way he had found it.

Next, Gabriel went over to the dresser and glanced at Cas with a smirk on his face. “You know, it’s strange but most humans keep their delicate underthings in the exact same place—top drawer—” he said, grasping the handle.

Cas slammed his hand into the drawer keeping it closed and Gabriel looked at him in surprise. “I really think you’ve done enough spying.” Cas’s voice and expression were stern now, but it only elicited a mischievous glint in Gabriel’s golden eyes.

“Spying? I’m just trying to get to know this Y/N better,” Gabriel argued, doing his best to sound innocent. “I mean, so far all I know is she’s related to the two meatheads and hangs around with you. And, though it may be a surprise to you, that doesn’t actually tell me anything I’d like to know.”

“If you want to get to know her, why don’t you just go visit her now? Or wait and meet her when she’s back.”

Gabriel gave Cas a skeptical look. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Sam and Dean will have no problem with me sniffing around their Baby Sister. They’re not known to be particularly suspicious or protective.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Especially after all those Dead Dean Days…”

Cas grimaced a little at the thought. “Well… you also saved them by facing Lucifer. They will not have forgotten that. You redeemed yourself, at least in part,” Cas said, tilting his head in his familiar habit.

The archangel looked surprisingly uncomfortable with Cas’s sincerity. “Fine. Enough snooping. Come on, brother,” he said, laying a heavy hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a drink and you can tell me all about losing your grace and what mortality feels like.”

Cas frowned, but he didn’t object. He was glad just to get Gabriel out of your room…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Several weeks later

You leaned your head back on the pillows and let out a frustrated groan. “UGH! Where is this doctor?!” you demanded.

Sam gave you a look. “I’m sure he’s on his way,” he said gently, trying to placate you.

You threw off your blankets and climbed out of the hospital bed onto your feet, moving a little hunched over as you rolled your IV stand with you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey!” Dean jumped up and stopped you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I can’t stay in that bed another minute or I’m gonna lose it!”

“We’re not even sure if you’re going to get released today, so you might as well get used to the idea that you may have to stay in that bed for a couple more days,” he retorted. “So, get back in bed!”

You vehemently pointed a finger in his face. “HEY. You’re not my doctor! You don’t get to boss me around!”

Dean drew himself up to his full height and gave you a severe look.

You didn’t waver. “I’m not scared of you!”

This drew a laugh from Sam and when you glanced over he was shaking his head. “Y/N, please just at least sit down. I’m sure the doctor—”

“—is in!” As if on cue your doctor strolled through the door, you chart in his hand. He gave you a big smile. “Alright, Y/N. Hop back up on the bed again, would you? Let’s see how you’re doing.”

He hadn’t even examined your incision yet and the words were spilling out of you. “Can I go home today?” you asked urgently.

This elicited a laugh from him and he gave you an appraising look. “As soon as I know, you’ll know,” he said diplomatically.

You tried to be a good patient and sit perfectly still as he checked your incision but you couldn’t help fidgeting and chewing your bottom lip. The doctor straightened back up and crossed his arms. “Well, no sign of infection. Incision seems to be healing nicely, so—” “YES!” you exclaimed.

“SO,” he continued through a smile, “I’m going to release you but with very strict instructions. I need you to really hear me right now, Y/N. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes. I’m listening.”

“NO lifting anything heavier than a few pounds—you know what, no lifting anything, okay? Absolutes seem safer with you. And you are NOT to be doing anything physical for 3 more weeks, at which time you can start with some easy physical activity. Long walks, some stretching, that kind of stuff. And you will need to get another post-op check-up around then too.”

You nodded. “Okay. I got it.”

“Now, your brothers here ARE now in charge since I can’t be there to keep you in line,” he said, a knowing smile on his face. He must have overheard you and Dean from the hallway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you argued.

“I’m not kidding. You need to let them take care of you. And you two,” he said, pointing at Sam and Dean in turn, “need to make sure she rests.”

A gruff laugh escaped Dean. “Easier said than done.”

“I know,” the doctor said. “I’ve been dealing with her for only about a month. You two have been dealing with her for a lifetime,” he joked, shooting you a glance.

“I’m right here, you know!” you burst out. “I can hear everything you’re saying!”

The doctor laughed and held out a hand to you. “Y/N, it’s been a pleasure to watch you recover. Now be well, and rest.”

This time you didn’t have anything snarky to say and just grasped his hand in yours and shook it. “Thank you. For… not letting me die and stuff.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re welcome. Gentleman,” he turned to Sam and Dean who both shook his hand and thanked him repeatedly. “The nurse will be in shortly to take care of that IV and check you out. Take care.”

You watched him go with a triumphant smile on your face. Sam and Dean both looked a little anxious, however. “Oh, come on, guys! He said I’m fine. We can go home!”

“You heard the doctor though. Seriously, Y/N. You’re on house arrest,” Dean said forcefully.

“Whatever. I don’t even care. Just get me out of here,” you said climbing down to your feet again. Soon a nurse came in and removed your IV. You kicked Sam and Dean out of the room so you could change out of your hospital gown for the first time in what felt like years. Another few minutes and you were stepping into the hallway, a huge grin on your face.

Sam shouldered your bag and gave you an appraising look. “You alright?” You were still a little hunched over. Straightening up completely still made you sore.

“I’m great,” you said. “Look! I’m wearing actual clothes!” You glanced down at the sweatpants and t-shirt you had pulled on. “Sort of.”

Dean couldn’t help smiling at you fondly while shaking his head. “You sure you don’t want me to go grab a wheelchair? It’s a bit of a walk.”

You scowled at him.

“I’m being serious, Y/N,” Dean said, the gravel in his voice deepening. “You’ve only done short walks around the floor.”

“There is no way in hell you’re getting me in a wheelchair.”

You managed to make it out to the Impala, though Dean had insisted on driving right up to the exit to pick you up. You slid into the back seat and sighed. “Oh, I missed you, Baby,” you said out loud, sinking in to the familiar seat and breathing in that particular smell that always made you remember road trips and hunts and late-night cheeseburgers.

Dean smiled at you in the rearview mirror. He lowered his voice and turned to Sam. “You talk to Cas?” he asked in an undertone.

“No. It still just keeps going straight to voicemail,” Sam said. “But he texted me again… to explain the origins of pineapple,” Sam said, a tight smile on his face. “It took like 30 texts.”

“What the hell is going on with him? He’s been weirder than usual.”

“Well, he has been trapped at the bunker alone for kind of a long time…” Sam said.

“He could have talked with us if he would ever answer his goddamn phone,” Dean countered, turning onto the highway. “Maybe he’s finally cracked.”

“Who?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your hands on the back of the front seat.

“Nobody,” Dean said. You scoffed.

“That’s convincing…” you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Why don’t you just focus on getting all healed up and let Sammy and me worry about everything else, alright?”

“You know, it’s weird, but my cells do that part pretty much on their own. It doesn’t require much conscious thought on my part. So, if someone has cracked—”

“Nobody’s cracked,” Dean said gruffly, hands steady on the wheel.

“You just said—"

“I just said nothing for you to worry about,” Dean said finally.

You let out a frustrated growl and changed tactics. “Fine. I’ll change the subject,” you said smugly.

“Thank you…”

“Any news on Gabriel?” you asked loudly, sinking back into your seat comfortably.

There was a long, silent pause from the front seat and you could see that Dean’s grip on the steering wheel had tightened.

Sam turned partially around, one arm on the seat back and looked at you. “You know there isn’t.” “No, I don’t know that. You two are obviously keeping something from me, so I think it is fair to assume you’re keeping other stuff from me too.”

“We really don’t know anything about Gabriel,” Sam said, sincerity written all over his face.

You chewed your bottom lip anxiously. Sam took in your expression. “Have you—seen him again?” he asked.

“No. No, nothing like that but since that happened, I just have this feeling—he said we would be seeing each other again and it’s like, in my core, I know that’s true.” You looked up and caught Sam’s eyes, they were steady on your face and narrowed slightly in concern. “I know that doesn’t make any sense and I know you and Dean said he’s gone but it’s such a strong feeling. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“I believe you,” Sam said. “For now, I guess we just have to wait…”

Many hours later, Dean finally pulled the Impala into the underground garage at the bunker and opened the door for you. Inside, an archangel and a graceless angel perked up as they heard noise in the garage. Cas shot upright and glanced over at Gabriel, who only smiled serenely back at him.

“Showtime!”

Cas gave him an apprehensive look and started off in the direction of the garage immediately. Gabriel followed, but at a leisurely pace, seemingly completely unconcerned.

But Cas didn’t know that this was mostly an act. There was a strange sensation in Gabriel’s chest and it was growing the closer he came to the moment when he would see you—meet you—for real this time, not in some mind dreamscape. He couldn’t even explain to himself why but he felt that this moment was going to change everything for him in some way—he knew no reason why that would be true. He had been fascinated with you since he first became aware again and had been thrust into some role connected with you… but he had this feeling, like a heavy block of cement in the middle of his chest sitting on top of his heart which was maddening in its oddity. It was like expectation and something more had solidified and despite all his trying he couldn’t shift it.

Dean pushed through the door into the bunker trailed closely by you, and then Sam hauling your bag and his own. “Cas?!” Dean roared. “Are you alive in here?”

Cas came hurrying around a corner in the hallway and his expression stopped all of you dead in your tracks. His blue eyes were wide and his face was quite pale, further making the shocking blue stand out.

“…what’s going on?” Dean asked. He was immediately reaching for his pistol.

“Don’t panic, but there’s someone here—”

“How is that supposed to make me not panic?!”

“Cas, do I need to get Y/N out of here?” Sam demanded over your shoulder, already trying to move around you to shield you protectively.

You were surprisingly quiet and Dean looked over his shoulder at you. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “Cas, who is it?” you asked quietly.

He only swallowed at the tightness in his throat and opened his mouth to offer some kind of explanation, but no sound came out. You felt like you didn’t really need him to answer anyway. You already knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

A second figure now came around the corner and Dean dropped his duffel bag where he stood, his fists clenched.

“Welcome home, Winchester Clan!” Gabriel said cheerfully, his arms spread wide.

There was just a stretch of tense silence between all of you which the archangel finally broke again. “Dean, if you wouldn’t mind just stepping a liiiittle bit to your right so I can—”

“What the hell are you doing here? How are you here?!” Dean demanded, his jaw tensing.

“That’s how you want to start this?” Gabriel asked, a grimace on his face. “Come on, Dean. I’m here to help. I’m not here to kill you over and over again. Not this time. I promise. Scout’s honor.” He made a small cross over his heart with one finger. Gabriel tilted his head, trying to look around Dean to get a better view of you, but it wasn’t necessary because the next moment you stepped around him slowly.

He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his face. You found the golden light in his eyes staggering, just as you remembered it from your vision.

“…you,” was all you could get out. Sam and Dean exchanged a tense glance.

He bounced a little on the balls of his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets, actually the result of nerves, but he was hoping it just made him look nonchalant and nonplussed. “Me.”

“You’re—but you’re… What are you doing here?” you asked quietly.

“I told you we’d be seeing each other again, didn’t I? You didn’t believe me?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow at you. You didn’t answer, just peered at him intensely.

He inclined his chin a little as he studied you. “Here—” he said. He moved around Cas and started toward you but was immediately met with loud yells and threats from the Sam and Dean causing him to stop abruptly and raise his hands, palms out. “Guys, guys, guys! Would you two just chill? Really! After all we’ve been through… I’d like to heal what’s left of that nasty gunshot wound if Y/N will let me. Or are you opposed to that? Because she’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on. I’m guessing she’s hiding it so you two won’t go all crazy protective over her for the rest of her life.”

“No, I’m not!” you argued. Gabriel gave you a skeptical look.

“I can feel it,” he said. When he spoke those words there was something almost desperate in them. “Let me heal you. Please.”

You swallowed hard at the nervous lump in your throat and stepped around Dean again, giving him a small glance. “It’s okay,” you said.

Gabriel stopped right in front of you and gently touched two fingers to your forehead.

You straightened up immediately and breathed in a deep breath, completely filling your lungs, something you hadn’t been able to do without pangs of pain since you’d been shot. Your shoulders relaxed and you gave him a grateful but perplexed look. “Thanks.”

“Welcome home,” he said again, but this time it was quiet, like it was only for your ears. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the fingertips that had just touched your skin. They felt strange, almost like the sensation when your foot falls asleep.

Dean suddenly interrupted the moment by pushing past Gabriel and heading toward the front of the bunker at high speed. Cas turned and jogged to catch up with him, wilting a little under the scowl Dean sent his way.

“Cas, you couldn’t have given us a heads up?” Dean asked angrily.

“You don’t think I tried? He broke every single phone I had and all the new ones I managed to get a hold of. And it’s not exactly like I could just fly over, is it?” he finished bitterly.

Sam stopped next to the two of them and dropped his duffel bag. “So… all those weird texts weren’t from you,” he said with sudden understanding.

Cas looked confused. “What? Weird texts? No. What weird texts?”

The Winchesters and Cas suddenly heard laughter behind them and turned to see Gabriel standing in the doorway with a satisfied smirk. Their expressions were stern.

“Oh, come on! That series of texts about the fuzzy toilet seat lid covers? The ‘bedtime thoughts’ texts? Pure genius on my part. You have to see the humor in this!” Gabriel simply watched as the muscles in their jaws twitched.

Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Goddammit. What the hell is going on?” He turned and looked to Sam who was still just staring in Gabriel’s direction with somewhat wide eyes.

“It’s really not that complicated, Dean. I was sent back to watch out for Y/N. And that’s really all I know.”

This caused deep wrinkles in both Sam and Dean’s foreheads. “Okay, first of all, your definition of ‘not complicated’ could use some adjustment. I would say a DEAD archangel coming back to life is pretty complicated. Second, why does she need anyone more than us watching out for her?” Dean growled.

“Well, seeing as she was just shot and almost died I don’t think I need to really answer that question,” Gabriel snarked back.

Dean’s jaw and fists tensed and Cas stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from attempting to throttle the archangel. Gabriel only smiled serenely.

“That wasn’t their fault,” you argued, having just appeared behind Gabriel in the doorway, feeling sick again because you knew your brothers were already blaming themselves. “It could have been any one of us.”

“But it wasn’t,” Gabriel pointed out.

You looked suddenly weary. “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this at all. I’m completely fine. Better than fine now that I’m magically healed me up. I feel like there are more important things we should be discussing.”

Gabriel raised a finger, like he had a sudden idea. “You’re right. Chiefly, I need to know everything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, formative childhood experiences, deepest darkest secrets—”

You crossed your arms over your chest and were about to snark something back at the archangel but Dean beat you to it. “Alright. That’s enough!” he growled. “You were supposedly sent here to protect her, not be a total creep. You’ve just met her and you’re already trying to invade her privacy,” he said gruffly, his green eyes piercing on the angel’s face.

“Well, technically I think he already—” Cas tried to stop himself but it was too late and your eyes snapped over to Gabriel as he winced and anxiously ran a hand through his hair. Your mouth was hanging partially open and your expression was incredulous.

“What the hell did you do?” you demanded. When he didn’t answer and only shrugged vaguely, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a frown, you turned to Cas again who was doing his best to look anywhere but in your direction. “Cas… Cas! Look at me!”

Gabriel spun and locked his eyes on Cas as well. “Brother, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be quiet…” he said through his teeth, keeping a forced smile fixed on his face.

“We all know you aren’t good at lying, Cas. Even a lie of omission. Are you really going to lie to me? After everything I’ve just been through?” You purposely tugged on his heartstrings and walked toward him so he had no choice but to glance at you as you moved closer. “Cas, I almost died. And you’re not going to tell me what this archangel who is supposedly here to watch out for me was up to?”

Gabriel shot you a look that was both a little stunned and impressed. “That’s low,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him and then turned back to Cas again.

You could see the internal turmoil crescendoing until it finally burst out of him. “He went through some of your things in your room. I tried to stop him but—”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed, his jaw clenching with anger. Dean shut his eyes against the rising tide of rage and his fists tightened. `

Your jaw dropped open again and you turned back to Gabriel and away from a very conflicted-looking Castiel. “What the hell!?” you demanded angrily. “Haven’t you heard of privacy? What exactly gave you the right to go through my room?”

He looked a tinge guilty for a moment before rearranging his features into a questioning expression. “Well, I think I should know a little about my charge—”

You shot a glare at him that was piercing and Gabriel felt his throat tighten. “Your charge? Let’s get one thing straight right now… I’m not your ‘charge’. You do not get to boss me around or make decisions for me.”

Gabriel tilted his head and gave you a peculiar look. “Well… strictly speaking I don’t think that’s true… You see, I’m supposed to protect you which means that I get to decide—”

You interrupted him angrily. “No. No, you don’t get to decide.” You looked at Cas and your brothers who all looked pretty unhappy about what had just played out. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” As you started down the hall, you heard his footsteps following behind you and as you reached the door to your room you spun to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demanded.

Gabriel looked around as if he was expecting you to be talking to someone other than him, but he saw no one else. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I’m just doing my job. You said you’re going to bed so I’m going to watch over you and—”

You angrily bit the inside of your cheek. “No. You’re not. You can stay the hell away from me while I sleep. You’re not setting foot in my room again.”

“Oh, come on! Y/N, please. You’re not really mad about—”

You turned abruptly and slammed the door in his face. Okay, so maybe you were really mad… “You know I can just appear in your room! I’m an archangel. An oak door isn’t—” The door whipped open again and you stood there fuming.

“Go away.” Your voice was quiet but Gabriel could easily hear the anger in it and for now he decided just to back off. You slammed the door in his face again and he sighed heavily, running a hand back through his hair.

Sometime later, Cas wandered down the hall and found Gabriel sitting on the floor, his back up against the wall just beside your shut door, his legs stretched out in front of him. Gabriel looked at him as he approached.

Cas didn’t say anything, just took a seat beside the archangel on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and staring at his shoes. Gabriel broke the silence first. “Look how far I’ve come,” he said, his tone clearly sarcastic. “I used to lead legions and now I’ve been assigned as some kind of glorified babysitter and here I am, a fallen archangel, sitting on the floor outside her door.”

“You probably wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor if you hadn’t botched that meeting with Y/N so spectacularly,” Cas mused. To his surprise the archangel actually laughed and glanced over at him.

“Yeah, I think you’re right about that, Castiel.” Gabriel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “I have a tendency toward self-destructive behavior.”

“When I was an angel, I mean—with my grace, so did I,” Cas said. “Perhaps there is something about being so-called ‘immortal’ that makes us reckless with our own lives.”

Gabriel sighed again heavily. “Perhaps.”

Cas looked over at him and he could see genuine worry on his brother’s face. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine in the morning. She’s tough. Strong. But kind-hearted. She’ll let you make up for it.” Cas fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. “I see such a mixture of Sam and Dean in her.”

This only drew Gabriel’s brow down more deeply. “That’s what I’m worried about,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know why I was sent to protect her, but I do know how reckless the Winchesters are with their lives. And all without a single drop of grace.”

Cas’s lips curved ever so slightly in a thoughtful smile. “Yes. But selfless.”

Gabriel glanced over at his brother and felt a pang in his heart for his graceless friend. “Do you miss your trench coat and suit?” he asked him.

Cas’s eyes lifted in surprise at the question and he glanced down at his sweatshirt, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve. “I do. But… it felt wrong wearing it somehow. Like being in a suit of armor while not on the battlefield.”

Gabriel nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he broke it. “I’m sorry for being such a dick since I arrived. All the phones… all the lying… all the snooping. It’s strange to say but I had a level of-—anxiety,” he tilted his head in a question, not even entirely sure that was the right word for what he had been feeling, “about meeting Y/N. And I still messed it up.”

Cas sighed again and patted a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Tomorrow is a new day.” He climbed to his feet and looked down at the archangel, a strange sight sitting like a child on the floor during time-out. “Tomorrow. Goodnight, brother.”

[magalidragon]

Birthday Signs | a Silent Shadows drabble

HAPPY BELATED NAME DAY TO @aenarsnow !!! Here is your gift I hope you like it! A family fluff fic that totally spoils Silent Shadows but oh well we all knew where that fic was going! 🤣 This will be set between the soon to be posted chapters 14 and 15.

The familiar, early morning strobe light flashed behind Jon's closed eyelids, which fluttered up, taking in the sight of the phone on his nightstand, flashing next to a glass of water, his watch, a book, and a very new addition to the random detritus that scattered from his pockets when he emptied them out on the worn wooden stand.

A baby monitor.

He smiled at it and reached for the device, lifting it up to his ear. It was a very expensive model, one that Robb had purchased for them at the baby shower, which vibrated at the level of sound coming from the nursery. It did not help as much during the night, when he could not feel the vibrations from the nightstand, but he was very attuned to the shifting movement of the mattress and when he felt Dany move at his side, he was up immediately.

This morning it was silent, as was she, hugging Shadow against her chest, the great black wolf fast asleep between them, like a strange wiggling body pillow. He ruffled Shadow's ears and got up, shuffling around Ghost, who popped up quickly. He knelt at his companion's side, nuzzling his nose and stroking along his side, shivering at the feeling of the raised scar underneath the regrown white fur.

It was near a year ago, but he could have lost him. He signed to his wolf, speaking, his throat muscles constricting and vocal cords vibrating, attuning him to his spoken words even if he could not hear them. "You can't leave me, not yet," he said, smiling down at him. He kissed Ghost's head, coming up to his feet and lightly touching the middle of the wolf's back, Ghost walking beside him through the house and to the room across the hallway.

It was still somewhat dark outside, sun creeping up above the horizon, the sky a mottled purple, blue, and black as the light fought the dark back to sleep. The trees were dusted with a fresh layer of snow, courtesy from the storm the evening before. It was one of his favorite times of the year, just after a snowfall. It was a twisted sense of awareness, knowing that when people stepped out into the powder, everything was muffled, all sound smothered out. It was his entire life and for some reason made him oddly satisfied knowing others could sense the same thing he did.

He didn't know what the day would hold-- that depended on whether Dany would try to surprise him or not-- which he hoped definitely not. He hated surprises. Really saw no reason in having anything of the sort. All he wanted was to have his day to himself, as usual. Once morning was done in the house, he would go to his wolves. He was eager to see if Rifle and his pack had welcomed the new wolf who showed up a couple weeks ago, edging nervously into the territory. The wolf was certainly not an alpha contender, but could support the pack with hunting. He suspected they'd be fine, after he'd sat with the wolf for a time and then released him into Rifle's area, thinking they'd go on alright.

After that, there'd be some paperwork no doubt, and he'd stop at Winterfell to inspect Summer's eye infection. Gods only knew how he got that one. Summer tended to just fall into mishaps, just like his owner.

Until then, he would be with his favorite person in the entire world. Save Dany.

Although for all the love he held for Dany, she did not hold a candle to the love he felt for the wiggling little body in the crib, gazing up at him with wide eyes when he leaned over, greeting her with a tickle on her tummy. He signed to her, wanting her to learn as soon as possible, even at the tender age of ten months. "Good morning," he signed, smiling down. He leaned in and lifted her up, chuckling.

The baby did not react to his chuckle, instead squealing-- he felt her chest constrict against his-- she beat her fists on his shoulder and took a handful of his t-shirt, shoving it into her mouth. He nuzzled her head, eyes closing briefly, swaying from side to side. She rarely cried, but when she did, he might not be able to hear it, but it broke his heart. He savored these moments when it was just them, before the rest of the day started.

He carried her over to the changing table, resting her on it gently, smiling as she babbled to him, her fingers moving up. He nodded along, whatever she was saying was very important, he was sure, and he removed the hearing aids from their charger. She whined, not liking it when they first went in, obviously the plastic uncomfortable after an entire night being without, but she soon got used to them. It broke his heart, to see the heavy plastic behind her delicate ear, the tube and wire leading into her ear canal, but once it was in, once he flicked that little switch behind it, her eyes lit up, an entire world shut off to her in the night now at her disposal.

It was something he'd never know, so he was grateful her deafness could be rectified, at least for a time, and she would know the joy of her parents' voices-- such as his was he thought darkly-- the barks and howls of Ghost and Shadow and everything else the world could offer her.

Aly waved her hands again and very carefully, he moved her fingers into the sign, the fingers folded and the thumb out to the side and dragged it from her temple, down to her chin. "Daddy," he said, hoping she could understand.

She waved her hand again and he did it a few more times. She was very young, but anything they could do, the doctors and specialists said, would help her. Babies learned languages by doing. WSL was just another language. Same as Common Tongue or Valyrian, which Dany used with her.

Their baby would be trilingual by the time she was in preschool, Jon thought with a chuckle, lifting her up from the table once both her hearing aids were in and on. She'd quieted, her dark brow eyes wide, searching. Alysanne had almost black hair, but the largest green eyes, which he really loved. They tended to show her reaction before her face to anything.

Just like the day they first had her fitted for them, the audiologist warning that it might take some time, but when they came on, when Dany first said her name, the little girl freezing and then smiling, laughing at the sound of her mother's voice for the first time, Jon almost died there from sheer joy. Such an unfamiliar feeling for him.

He signed for her. "It's my birthday." He was thirty-five. He'd been (officially) with Dany going on three years now. Married for two. Parents for four months. How things had changed from the time when he thought he was fine, living alone in his house with his wolves, content to never speak to another human being again. Even with Arya, sometimes he never opened his mouth, preferring sign over trying to speak.

It was his first birthday as a father, he thought, nuzzling Aly's thick dark hair, carrying her out of her room and to the stairs, Ghost trotting behind them. She wiggled her fingers at Ghost,squealing. He licked her foot, walking ahead of them to lead their entry to the kitchen, where he stopped hard, catching Dany.

She must have been preoccupied, because she didn't turn around, fussing with something on the counter. Balloons wafted up near the ceiling and she'd draped streamers around the kitchen cabinets. He smiled, glancing at Ghost, who chuffed, continuing ahead to nose Dany. It didn't necessarily matter, because at the sight of her mother's silver hair and Shadow, Aly let out a squeal, waving her hands for her.

Dany whirled around, laughing and rushing to him, eyes a little foggy from sleep. "Happy Birthday!" she signed, reaching up to kiss him and grinned. She fell back on her feet and took Aly, nuzzling her. "And good morning!"

"What's this?" he signed, walking up to see that she had coffee set out and doughnuts. He chuckled, noting the wolf bun she must have asked specially from Hot Pie's Bakery. He picked up one of the couple presents sitting beside the pastries and coffee, setting it down to sign. "YOu didn't need to get me anything."

"Yes I did," she signed, adept now at keeping Aly hoisted on her elbow while she used her free hands to sign. She grinned, speaking now, because Aly was wiggling in her arms. "It is your birthday Jon."

He shrugged; it was just a day. He kissed her again, because Dany should be kissed often, in his opinion, and he was happy to oblige her. While she prepared Aly's breakfast, he sipped his coffee and wondered what his presents were. He really didn't need anything. Most all he wanted was for the sanctuary. He finished some of his coffee and signed to her, when she caught his attention. "Taking Ghost and Shadow out."

She nodded, focusing on Aly in the moment. Jon signaled for Shadow to follow, which he did, jumping up and running ahead and outside, the second the door opened to the yard. He pulled on one of the heavy parkas near the door and shoved his bare feet into boots, trudging into the snow to wait for the wolves to finish whatever it was they needed to do. It gave him a few minutes to clear his mind, inhale the cold air, and be in his preferred element.

Not being able to hear, he had heightened senses otherwise. Arya joked he had a super power. It was what he told the deaf children who came to the sanctuary to sit with the wolves. They had a superpower, they could see and smell, they could sense better than anyone else with hearing. He closed his eyes, smelling the pine and fresh snow, the smoke from the chimney. Even the wet wolves, both of them bounding around together. He rummaged in his pocket for the laser pointer, flicking it in front of Shadow, the wolf instantly turning and running up to the house, signalled to come in.

As it was still a regular day, he planned to finish up coffee and breakfast, dress, and head into the sanctuary. There were things to do. He stomped off snow once inside, found Dany feeding Aly, cutting up little pieces of a croissant for her. Somehow Aly already had jam all over her face. He signed, laughing. "Someone is having fun."

"Too much fun," Dany signed back. Jon studied them both, marveling at how things had changed again. He caught Dany's eye and she smiled, shrugging. She signed, "What is it?"

"Nothing," he signed. He shrugged, easily signing something that came so difficult for him before he met and realized that there was more out there, Dany helped him see it. He folded his fingers together. "I love you."

Her face wrinkled into a smile, brow furrowed to keep from crying. She reached for him, when he went over to her and hugged his arm, wrapping around her shoulders and chest from behind, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I love you too," she mouthed, kissing his cheek.

Aly flung a piece of croissant at them, shouting. "Ah!"

"I love you," he signed to her, kissing her head. He waited a moment, lightly stroking her hair. This birthday was different, he felt that in his bones. Even when he'd come to an understanding regarding his feelings for Daenerys, struggling with his emotions and history and being a father, he didn't know until he held Aly in his arms. They could go through so many rounds of IVF, sitting in the doctor's office, crying in each other's arms with each negative pregnancy test, and exhausted mentally and physically. Their relationship suffered.

Then Aly came into their world. It didn't matter if the baby was from their blood, she needed them and she was their daughter. Just like Ned had been his father. He knew that it would be a struggle; Aly would have her own struggles with her deafness, as he did with his, but looking back on his initial thoughts-- he was mad. Aly would hear him-- she'd hear his laugh, his voice, and while it might not be like anyone else's, it was his and he was her father.

He kissed her again and went upstairs to change. Ghost came with him. HIs shadow. Just like Shadow was Aly's shadow. He couldn't help her from the same perspective that Ghost could, but she loved him and he helped her with what he could. Both of them being deaf, not always a great combination, ignoring everything but each other. Which could actually be pretty sweet.

When he finished dressing and came out of the bathroom, he was surprised to find Dany sitting in on eof the chairs by the fire, the embers glowing from the previous evening. They'd enjoyed themselves quite a bit last night, the fire merely providing ambiance-- they'd provided the heat. He sat down on the chair arm, kissing her head, signing. "What's wrong?"

"Open your gift."

"Where is Aly?"

"Over there." He glanced at the bed, seeing Aly caged in by Shadow, using him as a pillow while she played with one of her stuffed animals, ignoring them both. Dany poked him and handed him a small wrapped gift. "Open this please."

"I can open gifts later. I should get to the sanctuary."

She shook her head, chewing her bottom lip. "Please open this."

Jon didn't know what had her so nervous, or insistent, so he slipped into the chair, pulling her into his lap. Her legs slung over his knees, she watched him open the box. He thought maybe it was jewelry, which was weird because he only wore a watch and even then he often kept it in his pocket. He opened up the slim white box and pushed by tissue paper, staring, eyes widening in understanding.

It was a pregnancy test.

He was accustomed to those; he'd been at her side through four negative ones over the last couple years. Except this time, it wasn't negative. There was a very obvious plus sign. He turned to gaze down at her, silently questioning. She was already crying and nodded. "Yes," she said clearly. "I'm pregnant."

The only word he could croak out was: "How?"

She laughed, wiping quickly at her eyes and set the test down on the table next to them. Taking his hands, she pressed them under her sweater, to the swell he now felt in her lower abdomen, which he couldn't believe he didn't feel last night or notice before. So much for super senses. “The usual way," she laughed. She kept his hands on her warm belly and signed quickly. "Mel said it happens. Couples adopt and then get pregnant and there's no explanation. I was so scared something would happen that I waited. I am sorry, but I wanted to wait. I'm sixteen weeks."

That was four months. He knew that they weren't completely out of the woods, but the risk lessened now. He pressed his head to hers, removing his hands and cupping her face, bringing her to him for a long, slow kiss. His heart was so full, it threatened to strangle him. It was all silent; his heart racing in his head, his breath coming in deep gulps. More than once he wished he knew what she sounded like, wanted to hear her voice. He trusted it was as beautiful as her.

The sign worked too. It meant as much to him as the words in English would be.

They broke the kiss, Dany laughing again. "Happy birthday. Daddy."

He grinned. "Daddy," he said, the words hard for him to wrap his mind and his tongue around. It was foreign, the word not something he ever wanted to hear or say. He could no longer imagine a world where that was not a word in his vocabulary. It took a long way to get there; however, and he credited Dany for that. He signed for her, knowing hse understood. "Not without you."

The tears trickled down her face again. He kissed them away, holding her to him, and briefly thought to the first moment they met. That haughty look on her face, shouting at him, trying to touch Ghost-- who was just as amused at her as he was-- apologizing over herself. Then angry, for no apparent reason. He fucked with her on purpose then, because her reaction was so...different. He never intended to see her again.

And he did. Even trying as hard as he could to push her away, not get involved, there she was.

His shadow.

A shadow he could not hear, always at his side, in his way. Silent, silver shadow.

He could never be without her again, he thought, getting up long enough to get Aly, who was ripping at her stuffed animal. She looked up, when Dany said her name, and smiled. He kissed the shell of her ear, just beside the hard plastic aid. "You are going to have a brother or sister," he said to her. He didn't know if she understood him. It didn't matter, but she looked up and touched her fingers to his lips, smiling wide and began to babble.

Dany laughed again, tossing her hair over her shoulder, meeting his gaze again, pure love shining at him. She signed, fingers a blur. "Happy birthday my love, I hope you like your gift."

Not a gift, he thought, nodding and squeezing them both against him. Ghost and Shadow both flopped down together, black and white piles of fur. Jon closed his eyes and sighed, listening to his heart and feeling the other two under his hands. And maybe, just maybe, a third.

FIN

[brasskier]

Inspired by @valdomarx, @therogueheart, and that one anon, here’s a post-mountain Deaf!Jaskier story. Read it under the cut below or find it on my ao3 here.

Geralt stumbled upon Jaskier for the first time since the dragon hunt early the next spring, at a crowded market a week or two northeast of Oxenfurt. He'd stopped into town to stock up on supplies and maybe pick up a contract or two before moving along. If asked, he'd insist it was a series of hunts that brought him so close to the Academy, that he might as well follow the coin. And if he happened to run into his bard (ex-bard?), and happened to have the opportunity to apologize, and the bard happened to choose to follow him again? Well, so be it. 

He smelled Jaskier before he could see him, head perking up and eyes searching the crowd for the flash of a colorful doublet and that soft brown hair. The market was teeming, thrumming with chatter, and just as vivacious as Jaskier himself. 

"You goin' ta buy that or not?" The stall keeper asked, jarring him back to his abandoned transaction. He dropped a few coins on the stall, pocketed the herb, and disappeared without so much as a grunt. Weaving through the throngs of people, he relied on smell - on that familiar chamomile and saffron - until he finally spotted a glint of emerald green, and the strap of a lute. He watched from a distance.

Jaskier's hands were flashing about as dramatic as ever, glancing back and forth between the balding man tending the stall and another man standing beside him. His companion was as flamboyant as he was, dressed in a regal blue and arms waving about just as exaggeratedly. But then Geralt realized he couldn't hear Jaskier, which was unusual, because the bard had never in the two decades he'd known him been able to keep his voice down. The crowd was certainly cacophonous, but not that loud.

"Jaskier?" He drew a little closer and called his name tentatively. The bard didn't seem to react, carrying on with whatever he was doing. He tried again, a little louder, and then a third time, increasingly forcefully. He was getting irritated now - how dare he pretend to not hear me - and was tempted to simply move on. With a heavy sigh, he approached even further, lingering just a few paces behind him. "Jaskier?" 

"Think someone's calling you," the stall keeper announced, jerking his head in Geralt's direction, and Jaskier waved his hands again before turning to follow the man's gaze. He blanched when his eyes finally met Geralt's, mouth hung open and hands dropping to his side.

"Geralt?" He squeaked out finally, dragging a hand up to his heart. There was an unusual quality to his voice, Geralt was quick to note. Not hoarse, like he'd heard him after many a late-night performance. Just different. 

"Jaskier," he repeated, casting his gaze down to the russet dirt at his feet. 

"Gods," Jaskier breathed. "Just - melitele's tits - I just…" He trailed off, wringing his hands together. Geralt couldn’t help but think he looked like one of the stray fawns that would occasionally stumble upon his campsite and linger frozen for a few moments, cast in the firelight and trembling with fear.

"It's okay, I know." He kept his eyes trained at his feet, trying to pin down the bard’s tone. The way Jaskier produced certain sounds, dragged over his vowels, a little bit of its usual edge missing. He must be overwhelmed, Geralt concluded, but he wasn't particularly convinced. "I'm sorry." He waited patiently, uncertainly, for either his acceptance or rejection. 

"I need you to look at me," he said instead, surprising Geralt. He did as he was told, lifting his chin to face him. "Can you repeat that?" 

"I'm sorry," he reiterated. He felt frustration welling again - he got his apology, does he really need me to repeat it? - but he quickly quashed it. 

"Thank you, Geralt." He could see the emotion brimming in Jaskier's eyes. "We have a lot of catching up to do." Jaskier glanced sideways for a moment, fidgeting with one of his rings. "Perhaps we could share a drink? There's a tavern not far from here." He jerked his head to the right. Geralt grunted, and Jaskier raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Sounds good," he clarified. He was becoming increasingly convinced that Jaskier was toying with him for pleasure's sake. He knew full well how to interpret the Witcher's grunts, after all. And yet the expression drawn across his face looked impressively genuine. Humans are weird.

Jaskier uttered his thanks to the stall keeper and turned to face his companion - who'd been waiting patiently behind him - again. He wagged his hands about wordlessly, and it finally dawned on Geralt that this was not his usual theatricality - this was common sign language, and he wondered when exactly Jaskier had picked it up.

Jaskier was quiet most of the way to the tavern but seemed to perk up once they were seated - in the far back corner, Jaskier's choice. Geralt spoke first, determined to get this apology over with and behind him.

"I'm sorry about what happened." Jaskier tilted his head as he listened, chin resting on folded hands. "What I said was wrong. I shouldn't have blamed you, and…" he exhaled sharply, as if apologizing - or, more specifically, being honest and vulnerable - caused him actual pain. "The best blessing life has given me is finding you again." Jaskier's head tilted impossibly further, and then came the tears, and - fuck - did Geralt say the wrong thing?

"That's awfully sweet, Geralt," Jaskier eventually choked out, and he relaxed a little. "I'm sorry, I just--" He dragged a hand across his face. "That was so kind." He sniffled into his sleeve before finally re-righting himself. "I guess I'm just a tad sentimental." Geralt forced the best smile he could manage across his lips. "Gods, it's been so long. Go on, tell me everything you've been up to." 

"Not much," he replied between sips of ale. "I'll tell you everything later." He chided himself as soon as the words left his mouth for just assuming there might be a later. "How have you been?" 

"Hmm?" He sighed, fighting hard to keep from rolling his eyes.

"How have you been?" Jaskier seemed to spark to life again at this. 

"Oh," he said simply, pushing his hair behind his ear and chewing on his lip. "Well, I returned to Oxenfurt, taught for the winter. I just headed out, actually. I've been a bit preoccupied." He leaned in closer, stared past Geralt at the wall behind him. "I, uhh, I got sick, coming down from the mountain." Geralt hummed, drawing a slow sip of his ale. "I mean, I kinda woke up sick, but then there was the dragon and…" He rubbed his thumb against the rough wood of the table. "Well, I was a little distracted. I don't even really remember making it off the mountain, to be honest."

"I'm sorry I didn't notice." Geralt might as well get all his apologies over with at this point, he thought. Jaskier waved a hand to hush him.

"I woke up at a healer's. Apparently someone had found me not far out of town and dragged me in." He let out a shaky exhale. "He said I'd had an infection in… In my brain." Geralt watched him with a sour mix of pity and regret, unable to shake the feeling that he should've been there. The image of Jaskier, waxy pale and slumped unconscious, trembling in a stranger’s arms, burned into his mind.  "Anyway, I'm lucky I survived. But my hearing did not." Oh. Fuck. Suddenly the pieces slid into place - the sign language, the strange quality to his voice, the incessant requests for Geralt to repeat himself. 

"Fuck, Jask, I'm sorry." He rarely shortened Jaskier's name, but he knew the bard liked the nickname, and it was the least he could do for him. His mind reeled with regret. He should've been there. A random stranger shouldn't have been the one to find him and rescue him. If he'd known, he'd have never - no. No, what he did was wrong outside of the context of what'd happened next, and he was not about to qualify it. Jaskier, for his part, seemed relatively unfazed.

"Nothing you could've done about it, really," he insisted, running his finger along the rim of his glass. "The healer said I just needed to fight it off on my own." This did absolutely fuck all to ease the guilt gnawing in Geralt's gut. Questions swirled in his head - how was Jaskier going to sing or play anymore? Could he still compose even? How was he going to survive; that was how he procured coin, after all? Was he… was he happy? Did he blame Geralt?

"I know, I just… can you still sing?" This question seemed to amuse Jaskier, who laughed heartily. 

"Yes, Geralt, I can still deliver my fillingless pie." Geralt couldn't tell if he was serious or not, and while he used to be able to read his voice a little more consistently, he was unsure now and kicking himself for not making a better study of the bard's facial expressions and body language when they'd been together. 

"You know I didn't…" 

"I know. I know you didn't mean that." They sat in silence for a beat while Geralt wracked his brain for his next question.

"How? Do you sing, I mean, if you can't hear. How are you even talking to me?" He shrunk behind his tankard, suddenly embarrassed by the utter lack of tact that'd never bothered him before. 

"Well, one of the perks of teaching at a premier Academy is access to some of the finest physicians this side of Nilfgaard. I'll be honest, it took a lot of work to relearn how to sing and speak; I was mute for most of my travels back to Oxenfurt, mostly out of shame." Geralt's stomach churned, imagining Jaskier entirely and utterly silent. That wasn't the bard he knew. His Jaskier never shut up, mouth constantly running faster than a horse, always a story to tell or a song to share or a joke to crack. And certainly never worried about whether anyone else wanted or needed to hear him. Jaskier was not quiet. "But fortunately I still have a tiny bit of my hearing - on the lower end, mostly, which is good for you. Plus I have decades of muscle memory, so it wasn't so bad. And as for right now? I'm mostly lipreading, though the pitch of your voice is helpful." Geralt couldn't tell whether he was being genuine or just trying to placate him. "It's just different. Have to feel it more than hear it, which if you ask me more musicians should try."

"I'm glad," Geralt gritted out, nodding at the bartender to bring another round of ale. "That you can still sing." Jaskier beamed.

"I knew you always liked my singing," he declared triumphantly, arms folded across his chest.

"Did you already know common sign?" Geralt asked instead of retorting with something snarky; let the bard have his victory.

"A tiny bit, but the language professor at the Academy was fantastic at teaching me." Geralt closed his eyes and tried to envision the odds and ends of common sign he'd picked up over his years of travel. "I made a lot of Deaf friends; they've been so supportive of me." With a sigh, Geralt decided to give it a try.

"I know a little," he signed, tentative and deliberate. Jaskier's eyes lit up.

"You do?" He signed back, eyebrows raised and grin spread across his face. 

"Not much. I can…" His hands slowed, wracking his brain for the sign for learn. He sighed again and said it aloud instead. There he goes again, assuming Jaskier will stick around long enough to warrant learning more. Jaskier teared up again, and he cursed inwardly, wondering for what must've been the trillionth time that afternoon if he'd messed up. 

"You'd do that? For me?" Jaskier squeaked, pawing at his eyes with a hand tucked in his sleeve. 

"Of course." For a moment Jaskier looked like he might fling himself across the table and into his arms, but instead he fidgeted in his seat. 

"That's enough about me now, isn't it?" Jaskier asked, always a master at changing the topic when he grew bored with it. "Tell me about your hunts." He leaned over, fished around in his pack, and plucked out his notebook and pen. 

"First was an infestation of drowners," Geralt began, taking extra care to face Jaskier as he spoke, and pausing when he went to scribble something in his notes. They spent the next hour like this until, just as Geralt was beginning to wonder if the bard was going to force him to talk all night, Jaskier was tugged to the front of the tavern while excited patrons clamored for a performance. Jaskier obliged, as always, and Geralt watched, as always.  

When Jaskier dropped back into his seat, shuffling his lute unceremoniously to the floor beside him, Geralt expected him to bid him a hurried goodnight, get on his way, and leave. Just a nice day catching up shared between two friends (?), and decidedly not the start of their next joint adventure. But instead of any of that, Jaskier called to the bartender for another mug, busied himself fixing his hair and his doublet.

"Told you I could still sing," he said with a wink as the bartender deposited his ale on the table in front of him. "And something to eat, please," he added before returning his attention to Geralt. 

"I never doubted you," Geralt's reply came easily. It was, perhaps, the truth.

"Now then, would you say it has more or less filling now?" He leaned forward on his elbows, cheeky grin and narrowed eyes, and even Geralt could recognize the facetiousness of his words. Before Geralt could answer, he waved a hand, as if dismissing himself. "So, where were you? Something about a missing cow?" Geralt nodded, leaning back in his seat.

"So the boy told me his father would pay me, if I could find the cow. So I said, 'how much?'" He continued on with his tales, no matter how excruciatingly mundane they felt to him, until Jaskier's head dips forward and then picks back up for a third time. "Think it might be time for you to get some sleep?" He asked, and Jaskier blinked away the sleep in his eyes.

"Yeah, probably," he muttered, scrubbing at his face with one hand, the other dipping down to reach his lute. "Are you staying overnight?" He asked, and immediately flushed at the confused look he received from Geralt. "I just mean… I don't… you can't leave before I get to say hi to Roach." 

"It's too dark now. I'll get a room at the inn." Jaskier’s face lit up, and he followed him in rising to his feet. "Just have to grab Roach first," he said when they finally made it out the door and into the cool early-spring night. 

"M'kay," Jaskier hummed with a fond smile. He rested a hand on Geralt's shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning." It was a firm statement, certain and unquestioning. 

"See you then," Geralt replied, heading back to the stable where he'd docked Roach so he could bring her closer to the inn. And he, too, was certain. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] ASMR Transcripts (Kiro)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for ASMRs which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

This post contains transcripts of the following:

> night warmth - 黑夜温度

> dawn - 晨光

> visiting his workplace on the beach - 海岛探班

night warmth - 黑夜温度

[ MC and Helios are being chased by a police car. Heavy panting. ]

Here. Hurry.

Don’t make a sound.

We’re safe for now.

…have you hugged me enough.

You’re right. This place is very dark and cramped.

You’re afraid?

…I said it before. Stay away from me.

[ Sound of ruffling and Helios tapping on his phone ]

We have to stay here until we can be certain of our safety.

My phone still has battery. There’s enough for it to be used as a light source.

Hm? What’s wrong?

It’s just a bruise. It wouldn’t affect anything.

I don’t need this…

Wait.

[ Sound of bandages ]

Don’t touch…

…it doesn’t hurt.

You don’t have to be so careful.

I wouldn’t become paralysed from this level of injury.

Why are you looking at me like that?

…I already said that it doesn’t hurt. I don’t want to repeat myself again.

You shouldn’t need to understand these things, much less interfere in them.

You…

What’s wrong with your hand?

Don’t move.

Only now do you know what pain is?

Open your hand. Put it here.

…come nearer.

What are you hiding from? I haven’t even started.

Put your hand properly. Don’t tremble.

…does it hurt?

I got it. I’ll be gentler.

Since you’re so afraid of pain, you should remember this clearly. Don’t be a busybody, especially when it comes to me.

There is a reason for that.

Tell me… you know quite a lot.

However, being bold isn’t necessarily a good thing.

[ Sound of running ]

There’s movement.

[ Sound of running ]

…they’ve gone far away.

What’s wrong? Why are you so warm?

Shh…

Don’t make a sound.

…looks like you have a fever.

The wound may have an infection.

Hang in there. I’ll bring you out soon.

Shh, don’t make a sound.

What did think I was going to do…

Fever and chills.

Come closer to me.

Even closer.

Treat this as thanks for “saving” me again.

I wouldn’t care about you the next time.

I hope there wouldn’t be a next time.

What are you laughing at?

Like a disobedient child stuck in a small black house?

You still have the mood to joke around?

Looks like you’re still clear-headed

Very strong… nothing.

If you’re tired, you can lean on me and sleep for a while.

Hm? You don’t dare to sleep?

Aren’t you very bold?

They likely think we have already escaped.

So once it’s dark, we can leave.

This time, after we part, I hope I’ll never meet you again.

At least, not in such an embarrassment situation.

You’ve fallen asleep so quickly.

For now, have a good sleep.

dawn - 晨光

[ Kiro waking up. Cute grunts ]

Hm? Are you awake?

What time is it?

[ Kiro unlocks his phone to check the time ]

It’s still early.

[ Kiro taps on his phone, then locks it ]

Savin says he’ll pick me up at 9am.

I can still sleep for another two hours.

Hm? Didn’t you know that Savin moved house recently?

Coming here requires him to take the most congested route in all of Loveland City.

Besides, it’s the early morning peak period now.

Last night, I saw that he was still singing karaoke at 1am on Moments.

He won’t make it at 9am.

[ Rustling ]

And I haven't been busy lately.

I’ll be investing in two days.

[Note] He actually says “进组” (“jin zu”), but I don’t know what it means even after searching it up. The closest thing I could find is the phrase “带资进组” (“dai zi jin zu”), which refers to how actors bring in start-up capital to invest in the crew before filming officially begins.

I’ve already pushed away jobs that should be pushed away.

These two days will just be spent recording some things in the shack.

[ Rustling and Kiro sighs ]

If I were to head over at noon, I’ll be done in the afternoon.

Hm? Do you want to look for me later?

We can go for a meal together.

[ Random grunt. Kiro sighs again, followed by a long period of silence ]

Oh right!

The program you mentioned the other time.

How’s it going? Smoothly?

I was going to ask you about it on the plane yesterday.

But once we met, I forgot about it.

Savin mentioned that you even asked for his help to find a celebrity who’s good at variety shows.

Have you found one?

In your proposal this time, is there nothing I can help with?

[ Rustling ]

‘No’?

How could there be nothing?

Hmph. Don’t underestimate me.

Even though I have more experience on stage,

When it comes to staging lights and acoustics,

I’ve done my research too.

I wouldn’t be much worse than experienced staff.

Also, if I can’t be a guest on your program,

I could be a member of the staff.

And my rates are very cheap.

If you’re the one hiring me, I’ll give you a large discount.

Hm? Why are you suddenly looking at me like that?

I’m not thinking of anything bad.

I’m just thinking…

I don’t seem to be very busy in the later half of the year.

If you aren’t busy either, we can spend more time together.

If you’re very busy, I can accompany you to work.

It’s so rare for us to have time. I have to cherish it.

Having more things to look at, having more songs to write, and seeing you more frequently.

Don’t worry, I really have time.

[ Rustling ]

I’m not the lead in this show.

So I can finalise it in around a month.

Mm! Even though I’m not the lead, I really like this role.

And it’s the first time I’m acting as someone’s brother.

I don’t know if I can act it well.

What’s wrong?

Did it leave you in shock that I’m not the lead?

Do you also think I should only accept lead roles?

Actually, Savin and I have discussed this matter.

He’s the same as always, leaving the decision to me.

So I think…

They’re all fine. I’ll just look at the script.

And the director this time round specially explained his reason for not casting me as the lead.

It made me feel a little embarrassed.

He’s an incredibly experienced director,

But still had to consider these trivial things for me.

[ Kiro sighs ]

Maybe my schedule was too packed with work before.

So it caused people to misunderstand.

Which is why I want to tidy it up from now onwards.

And not stretch myself too thin,

And to give myself more time to digest the work on hand.

[ Kiro sighs. Long silence again where you can hear Kiro’s breathing. ]

Hm? Are you getting up now?

I’m not that tired either.

But I keep thinking it’s a loss to get up when the alarm hasn’t sounded yet.

You said you didn’t want to get up and yet can’t sleep.

What should we do then, Miss Chips?

[ Rustling ]

I’m not referring to playing games, or watching the television, or using the phone.

[ Rustling. It sounds like he’s FEELING HER UP. ]

Looks like my intelligent and adorable Miss Chips has finally guessed it.

Which is why you’re using the blanket to cover your head.

Hmm, you can’t do that.

Weren’t you the one who said that on account of how I’ve been working hard during this period, you’d reward me with food and drinks?

If you say things you don’t mean,

I’ll be very upset.

I’ll count to three.

If you don’t take more initiative, I’ll do it myself.

Although I never bully you, being a little mischievous occasionally should be okay, right?

Three.

[ Rustling ]

Are you sure you don’t want it?

[ Kiro laughs ]

Two.

[ Kiro sighs ]

Looks like Miss Chips really isn’t afraid.

One.

I’ll be gentle.

[ Rustling ]

I promise.

[ A lot of rustling. Kiro breathes heavily. ]

visiting his workplace on the beach - 海岛探班

[ sound of waves on the shore + footsteps ]

Miss Chips, you’re here…

Don’t worry, it’s just that today’s shoot started too early.

I’m not very tired.

…of course I’m not lying to you.

[sighs] Come, sit over here.

How is it? Isn’t it very comfortable here?

Mm, I like staying by the seaside too…

Just being under the sun and feeling the sea breeze makes me feel so happy.

[laughs] But… with Miss Chips visiting me at work, I’m even happier.

[ zipping sounds ]

Hm? This is a “visiting at work” gift for me?

Wow, it’s a coconut from here.

As expected of my Miss Chips, who knows me best in the entire world.

You actually knew that I happened to be thirsty right now.

…mm, I see the opening.

…mm, very fresh and sweet.

Come, you can try it too… mm?

Why do you need to insert another straw?

Don’t move. I’ll just hold the coconut and feed you… open your mouth.

How is it? Does it taste delicious?

Ahh I’m sorry, it spilt onto your clothes…

[ tissue wiping sounds ]

…all right, it’s just that the collar is still a little wet.

Want to loosen your collar slightly?

Maybe it’d dry a little faster.

…don’t look at me with that expression. I really didn’t do it on purpose.

[ tissue patting sounds ]

[laughs] But there’s some coconut juice at the corner of your mouth which hasn’t been wiped clean…

[ tissue wiping sounds ]

[kiss] All right, it’s clean now…

…but I realised something earlier.

And that is… coconut juice is really very sweet. It’s savoury, especially…

[kiss] Eh, why is your face suddenly so red?

I know, I know, it’s the sunlight’s fault for being so strong on the seaside…

Miss Chips’ reddish cheeks were under the sun, and it’s definitely not because she’s shy.

No, it has nothing to do with you…

I accidentally bumped into something this morning during the filming.

Mm. I’ve already applied medicine. It doesn’t hurt at all, don’t worry.

Also, the moment I see you, I immediately come back to life.

…as long as Miss Chips is by my side, it’s already the greatest show of support.

However, the most effective way of visiting me at work is actually…

Come a little closer and I’ll tell you.

[ ruffling sounds ]

[kiss] To me, this is the most effective way of visiting me at work.

[ many more kisses ]

On a contented afternoon, quietly sitting by the seaside,

Having Miss Chips beside me,

Along with her hugs and kisses…

[sighs] This kind of visits at work are what I’ve always longed for… very perfect.

[sighs] Promise me that in every film I shoot in the future,

You’ll try your best to visit the set once, okay?

Because I hope you can always participate in my life.

[laughs] …all right, I’ll take it that you’ve agreed.

Don’t worry… this place is very hidden, and no one will come…

[theyearoftheking]

Book Eighty-One: Billy Summers

“Maybe a chilly story needs a chilly writing room, he thinks. It’s as good an explanation as any, since the whole process is a mystery to him, anyway.” 

Well hello there, Constant Readers! Have you missed me and my half-assed reviews of Steve books? 

Crickets. 

I know I’ve promised book reviews, television recaps... all the things. But I’m kind of busy living and enjoying life at the moment, without the need to take notes or screen grabs. That being said, I really did enjoy Billy Summers, and it took me almost a hundred pages to remember how this blogging thing worked. I was supposed to take notes? Dark Tower references? DePere, Wisconsin? Should I remember that for some reason? But don’t worry, it was like riding a bike. This blog is full of all the stuff you’ve come to know and love, as well as SPOILERS!!! So, if you have not finished the book yet, stop reading and come back once you’ve turned the last page.

SPOILERS!!! Consider yourselves adequately warned. 

Billy Summers doesn’t really include anything supernatural, and it’s more suspenseful and plot driven than some of Steve’s other books. In other words, it’s another great recommendation for people who don’t claim they don’t like Stephen King. 

Billy is an assassin who has mastered the art of “dumb like a fox”. 

He’s hired for a new assignment, but something seems off. Billy has been in the assassin game long enough to know when something is foul in the state of Denmark. He doesn’t trust the people who hired him, and he has the distinct impression he’s going to end up as the patsy in the end. But, he plays along as Dave Lockridge, single man and writer. He moves onto a charming street in Midwood (I kept reading this as Midworld... thanks, Steve), makes friends with all the neighbors, and beats all the neighborhood kids at Monopoly on the weekends. This part of the book was so tender, it reminded me a lot of Ted Brautigan and the kids from Hearts in Atlantis. Of all the things Billy later regrets, it’s letting these kids down, and having them trust him when he was obviously so untrustworthy. 

During the day, Billy writes  at his office in Gerald Tower. There’s always a tower, isn’t there? And this tower takes on more significance, because it’s the spot from which Billy is supposed to shoot Joel Allen. Joel is due to be transferred to Midwood, and marched up the steps of the courthouse just like in The Outsider. Constant Readers remember how well that worked out... 

Billy has an assassins creed: he only shoots bad guys. On the scale of bad guys, Joel Allen isn’t quite Ted Bundy, but he’s not Mr. Rodgers either. He had something of a “me too” moment when he accidentally mistook a feminist writer for a sex worker; and there was a gun fight outside of a poker game. It’s enough for Billy to work with. 

Billy is waiting for Joel to be transferred to the Midworld Midwood county lock-up; and he bides his time by actually doing some writing. He covers his tragic childhood (his mom worked in a laundry facility, just like Steve’s mom), and his time in the military. This is where Steve really shines. Billy’s book is written in a childish tone that just WORKS. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a simple-minded assassin. But still waters, friends. As the story goes on, Billy’s voice grows and improves. Well done, Steve, it’s like two books for the price of one.

In between writing, Billy assumes another fake identity (Dalton Smith), and secures a bolt hole to hide out in once his job is complete. Believe it or not, the murder of Joel Allen is such an insignificant part of the book. Billy successfully takes him out, and makes it to his bolt hole undetected. And this is really where the second part of the book starts. 

One rainy night, Billy hears random noises outside his apartment. He looks out the window in time to see a van full of guys dump a female body into a gutter. Billy should have just anonymously called the police... but if he had done that, we wouldn’t have a story. Instead, Billy goes full on Captain Save A Ho, and pulls the young woman from the gutter. It’s clear she had been drugged and assaulted, and she manages to puke all over Billy’s place. 

Neat. 

When Alice wakes up in the morning, she recognizes Billy from the police sketches, but promises not to rat him out for the Joel Allen murder. They form an unlikely friendship that includes watering the neighbor’s plants, watching Blacklist, and Alice reading Billy’s book. Basically, they were sheltering in place before that was even a thing; something Steve jokes about. Eventually, Billy knows he needs to get the rest of his money for the Joel Allen hit, and punish the guys who raped Alice. 

Y’all. I’m still having nightmares over the most creative use of a hand mixer I have ever read. I thought the can-opener in Lisey’s Story was bad... this was worse. But the kind of worse you feel good about, if that makes sense. 

After finding out the name of the guy behind the Joel Allen hit, killing a few bad dudes, and pissing off a bitch named Marge (fucking Marge if you’re nasty), Billy and Alice hunker down in Colorado with Billy’s assassin booking agent, Bucky. 

As soon as Billy and Alice entered Colorado and the town of Sidewinder was mentioned, I knew where we were headed. Yeah buddy, Overlook time! 

Billy takes to writing in a little shack behind Bucky’s house, and inside the shack is a Polaroid picture of the topiary animals at the Overlook. Every time Billy looks at the picture, the animals seem to have shifted. It gives him a cold sense of dread. 

There’s a certain parallel I picked up on in Colorado: Jack Torrance and Billy Summers are both haunted men running away from things. The Overlook was where Jack went to dry out, and work on his writing. He wanted to work on his marriage, and become a better father to Danny. We all know he failed spectacularly. Then, we’ve got Billy. Billy actually gets writing accomplished, and becomes an unlikely father-figure to Alice. Despite having just as much, if not more baggage than Jack, Billy doesn’t let it define him. He acknowledges it, and moves past it. It’s almost like Billy accomplishes what Jack couldn’t. And it took the Overlook burning to the ground for that to happen. 

While we’re on the topic of Billy and Alice, one of the things I love about Steve’s characters is he never forces romance where there doesn’t need to be any. While Billy acknowledges the age gap between him and Alice, nothing untoward ever happens between them. There’s obvious love, but never the romantic kind. Steve is one of the few contemporary writers to get this right. 

The story ends with Billy killing the guy behind Joel’s hit, getting shot by Marge as he leaves the crime scene (fucking Marge), Alice nursing him back to health, and getting him back to Colorado where they all live happily ever after.

I wish.

I wish I had stopped reading twenty-three pages before the book ended, because the actual end was more realistic, but heartbreaking. In reality, fucking Marge shot Billy in the stomach, and he died of an infection in the back of a Walmart parking lot. Fucking Marge indeed. But this was the way the book should have ended. Needed to end. Anything else would have been unrealistic. But damn, I hated to see Billy go out like that. 

There was one Wisconsin reference: after Billy kills Joel Allen, he’s supposed to be transferred to a safe house in De Pere. You know... where Steve lived when he was in a kid.

Other than Gerald Tower, we were also graced with “the world has moved on-” just to remind us that we all follow The Beam. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 49

Total Dark Tower References: 78

Book Grade: A+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

Doctor Sleep: A+

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

11/22/63: A+

Mr. Mercedes: A+

Billy Summers: A+

End of Watch: A+

Under the Dome: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Full Dark, No Stars: A+

The Outsider: A+

The Bazaar of Bad Dreams: A+

If It Bleeds: A+

Just After Sunset: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

Stephen King Goes to the Movies: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Finders Keepers: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Duma Key: A-

Black House: A-

The Institute: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

The Dark Tower: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Blaze: B+

Hard Listening: B+

Revival: B+

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Joyland: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

Wolves of the Calla: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Song of Susannah: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

Later: B+

From a Buick 8: B

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

Sleeping Beauties: B-

The Colorado Kid: B-

Storm of the Century: B-

Everything’s Eventual: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

The Wind Through the Keyhole: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Cell: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Faithful: D

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Lisey’s Story: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers D

I’m not going to end this with any promises of upcoming posts. That way when I do randomly stumble on here one afternoon, it will be a delight for us all.

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights,

Rebecca

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Lingering attachments. ]

Right! I’m sure there’s an AU about this somewhere already that I haven’t found but you know what, I’ll have my take on it regardless.

This post is just some considerations on the AU where the Traitor Lord lives once more through lifeblood shenanigans. (Awkwardly dubbed as “Lastlifeborn AU” because... it’s the Lastborn’s last life. Yeah, I know.)

I also have no idea how to interpret lifeblood so I’ll put that matter aside.

It would be a bit fun to entertain the idea of the dream-ghosts of Cloth and Traitor “speaking” after their due battle just before she finished savoring the moment. While he does hold some implacable resentment (embrace the infection to become stronger and yet for what? being unable to better protect his kin like he had intended? what was it that put these silly-meaningless thoughts in his head, his heart?), he does hold respect for Cloth and the Ghost first and foremost for beating him in an impromptu duel.

“I’m glad to have fought a mighty warrior like you.” “...” (But he wasn’t one. Unlike the other Lords, he had cheated and lost his way.) “For one outside of my tribe, you battled well.” There’s a lot of awkward pauses and general recollection, the Traitor trying to sort out what had just occurred and what had happened before all this.

Maybe the Ghost comes back in time to not both of them, but at least the Traitor staring at both his victor’s and his own’s bodies. It would seem to remember something—pulling out the Mark of Pride charm and showing it to him. See conflict cross his features, how he nodded as if he then understood something it didn’t.

And the Ghost is quite the mender of a bug itself. It’s compelled to try and resolve something that seems rather unresolvable; it breaks cocoons and cradles all these wiggling lifeseeds in arms and forcibly attempts to get the Traitor’s husk moving again. Said dream-ghost Traitor at first regarding the situation dismissively before growing into a strained panic and worry of “Cease your actions! What compels you to desecrate my corpse—?...” “Just how many did you manage to bring with your small stature...?” (It would’ve been more deserved if his body were to be broken into segments much like the others. His mind feels hazier as if overcome with fatigued the longer it tries, and...)

What. Why is this little bug back in his view and why does he feel so. Tired. Oh. The Traitor... does not deserve this, no, unless this was his punishment to burden the weight of his own sins, but it’s ultimately uncomfortable—he died twice already in removing his title and in true battle. (His body felt wrong before for different reasons, but it felt even worse now that he’s reminded of the air and his other senses.)

And the Ghost does its best to try and point him in a direction it wants him to go. Incessantly tries. But he shook his head, clicked, said aloud that he’d resolved to return to the village and accept the sentence that should have been given when he was deposed. (Imprisonment. Death.) It’s only then does the Ghost no longer tries to point him in a direction (and how strange; was this the same way it pointed its nail?) and accompanies him the... the entire way...

It’s not that long of a trek, no, though his mind is clouded with all sorts of thoughts and regrets. He’d seen his Daughter’s grave for the last time. (The little warrior seemed to insist on giving him a flower, but even when he did finally accept if only to appease it, he’d merely set it back by the grave.) He’d seen his reflection in the pools of acid, the glow of an unnatural cerulean he does not remember seeing unlike the festerous cloud of orange. And... the occasional husks of what had been the split of his tribe.

The village is far quieter than his memories. It is a complicated feeling to see the mantids that watch with both confusion and hissing resentment, those that knew of him formerly and those that did not. Perhaps it must look like a show? To observe how the honored outsider escorts the depose Lord, a beast thought mindless returning in its newly sickening form with not the sweet-sickly orange, but a dim blue glow of what they vaguely remember other bugs considering as taboo (how funny of them to worship and pray to begin with). His thoughts grew louder; he wondered if he could ever make amends. He figures it all in vain. That’s fine, really.

...One thing led to another. The summary is that he does not die, and is “punished” to live with his decisions after it is thoroughly seen he is remorseful (to an extent). It does take a long while for this family to sort out their issues properly though.

Bonus side-note is that the Ghost can be treated as part of said family (but not really, but also hey look its horns are notched twice just like the Traitor’s and—)

Bonus reactions to said return:

The First just wants to know why it happened, so she can reflect and see where the both of them (mostly herself) had went wrong. Her own regrets she’d shouldered still smolder long after all the initial anger and confusion. Considering there’s only so many of them left, she just wants to hear him out (and oh, how strange-wrong it is to hear the difference in his voice now, to see him taller but with the lack of pride from before). In the end, she’s... relieved, almost, to see him the way he is now considering how she longed to revisit old things. Not that they could still return to them. But, well, new interactions to unfold, lots of baggage to pack.

The Second’s the one who’s most expressively upset. Frustrated that she cannot take her pains out on him as when she’d forced his claws to a duel, it was more than clear that his heart wasn’t in it (how disrespectful; how dare he seem so inclined to let the end of her nail-lance sink deep and through). She’d always known him to be a great fighter, so the reasoning behind him embracing the infection was more than just insulting as a betrayal. She despises the more passive behavior (this wasn’t the brother she remembered, what had happened to the hint of deserving arrogance he once bore?) and most of all, resents herself for not having done something more given the more responsibility their eldest took on.

The Third is uncharacteristically quiet, unsure and sorting out her emotions just like before (but managing to unintentionally, somehow, be the coldest towards him). She’s always been aware that while he did seek counsel, most often asking the eldest, he also disliked relying on anyone else and she never minded that, no. She felt as if she knew why he’d left. But in knowing what happened to her niece and the other, closer followers that had looked up to him, it was difficult for her to figure out how to respond to him in knowing the losses sustained. It’s... she eventually decides, though, to accept with resignation. He’s dealt with their other sisters and the disdain of the village and would continue to do so (probably). She’s just happy to have him back even despite the changes. She can at least... try, to not make the transition jarring by having even herself different in behavior. Sort of.

-

Redacted consideration was that he’d lose most if not all of the memories during his time of being infected because while it’d be fun for him to think that nothing more than him waking up in a random location happened and then seeing the husks of his tribe(?) along with “Whose grave is this?” and returning to the village almost as if nothing happened, the sisters would have a Horrendous Time alongside the Traitor if he by chance was then told of what happened.

anyways my AUs are to be self-indulgent, not to combust spontaneously :D I probably amplified the inferiority issue a bit too much here but Welp

alright bonus-bonusnonsense below:

little ghost does crimes. shoves lifeseeds into husk (in which some lifeseeds happily run away into said husk to get away from the chance of dying by tiny bug)

bug tries to slap mark of pride charm onto the former traitor lord

aand this:

It watches as he idles a moment longer, bowing his head towards the marked grave of his late Child. Quietly it comes closer, hesitantly, and reaches out—rests its hand onto his side and gently curls its fingers into his cloak. He does not move. So the vessel tilts its head, sits. Decides to wait for him—and rest. (aka it’d be quite nice, you know, to imagine the trek back where the Ghost doesn’t forcibly try to understand the dude, but is a sort of comfort... or maybe... just... a reaper, escorting him to his death. but then jokes on you big man it’s a friend!!)

[zerocubes]

if the mc killed themself, how would seven react?

cw, this post contains suicidal ideation. if this upsets you, do not read this.

suicide is a very serious matter, and if you are in a distress of any kind, my dms are always open and I will try to give you the support you need, even if you want a small chat. please keep safe, you mean a lot more than you think.

perhaps if seven tried hard enough, he could hear their feet walking around the apartment. as subtle as it was, it was such a common sound that without it, he felt as though something was empty, missing. he didn’t feel whole.

yet, he’ll never hear that sound again. nor their breathing or the way they giggled at his half baked jokes. he’ll miss the way they held his hand when they felt lonely, or the way they placed their forehead on his, closing their eyes and taking in the warmth of being with one another.

he’d miss the way he’d lie his head on their chest, and feel the way their chest moved up and down as they slept soundly, peaceful and serene. the way their heart beat slow and undisturbed, and how they’d sometimes say his name during their sleep.

he felt empty without them, his soul ripped in half the minute they left him. he hadn’t felt whole since, his entire world falling to pieces. he was nothing before he met them, and everything when they were together. but now that they were gone, he was nothing once more.

the silence had never bothered him before, but now it rung in his ears like unsoundly music. everything felt cold and distant, and he was unable to switch on his control of his body, bursting into tears at random times, or slipping into his happy 707 persona, forgetting their existence and his despair.

even saeran, who despised his very presence, tried his best to help him. give him the support he desperately needed, but couldn’t bring himself to accept, choosing to shy away and distance himself from his brother and those who loved and cared for him, the rfa. and even vanderwood, which he’d never admit.

he felt haunted by their loss, black roots growing from within his heart and spreading through his veins. he could see them everywhere. in the mirror, his chair, the walls, empty candy wrappers. they, who was once so vibrant and loving, became nothing more but a ghost in his life.

their very presence in the world crumbled each passing day they spent underground, reduced to nothing but a pile of bones, decaying.

the moment they died, the entire world turned blue, heartbroken. the pitch in a birds song changed, the sun wasn’t as bright anymore, the plants withered faster.

but yet, they didn’t die. they were murdered. the growing shadow in their life grew as they did themself, hijacking their being- who they truly were. it choked them a little more every second, and they finally succumbed. found dead and hanging, and their heart still.

seven was the one who found them, a rope tried around their neck and the ceiling fan, a chair toppled over beside them. when he cut them down, he knew they were gone from the way their cold skin stung his.

it infected him, and he could no longer feel anything but the way their cold skin felt on his. and with each passing day, he felt himself die a little more, retreating into isolation and melting into 707, his sanity hanging on by mere threads.

their absence grew and grew, until it became another ghost in his desolate world. nobody could reach him anymore, and he left the rfa without a single word, ceasing contact with all of them.

a short while later, he disappeared. leaving behind nothing more but the crumpled note his beloved left them, seconds before they’d left his world.

on their wedding day, he promised to follow them to the ends of the earth. no matter where they went, he’d search for them until the very day he died, taking in his last breath. and seven zero seven took pride in the fact that he always kept his word. no matter the price.

[twokinkybeans]

Love Me ’Til My Life Is Done

Summary:  “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head.

“No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.”

-

In which it's the year 2052 and Peter and Tony deal with the new struggles of their age difference and Tony's deteriorating health.

Find it on AO3

Warnings: Old age, dementia, angst, hurt, feelings, medical conditions.

Author’s Note: This work is inspired by a mixture of things, such as my own job and this Tumblr post.  The fic is bittersweet, so please be prepared or leave if you'd rather not read that. I honestly don’t know why I wrote this as I gave myself all the feels too but, ah, here it is! - xx Kim

Peter smiles when he turns off the shower. He takes the large towel from the grab bar behind him and wraps it around Tony’s shoulders, gently rubbing the skin dry. Tony sighs and looks up at the other man, his troubled smile giving away exactly what he’s thinking about. Peter knows how much he hates this. Of course, the intimacy of the situation is nice. But that’s it, really. It’s bittersweet. “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head. “No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.” Peter understands where Tony’s coming from. It’s not easy. Nothing about the situation is. Last week, they celebrated Tony’s 82nd birthday. Eighty-two. Tony’s old. Peter isn’t. He’s not the youngest, obviously, but his own 50 years are not even close to catching up with his lover. “I know you and May have been secretly plotting your escape to - what do they call it nowadays - community living? I’m not letting some random strangers take care of either of you.” Peter’s done volunteer work in elderly care a few years prior to Tony’s deteriorating health, and they were so thoroughly understaffed that no one got the attention and care they needed. Peter will not do that to them unless absolutely necessary for whatever reason. “You’re not a nurse though, Peter.” “And you’re not my patient, Tony. You’re my fucking husband. You wish I was a nurse. I’d be the sexiest one you’ve ever seen.” Tony snorts at that and shakes his head. “You’ll never change.” “Nope, now come here,” Peter chuckles as he rips the small package and presses the fentanyl patch onto the man’s shoulder blade, “-look? All done, Sir. Now let me, ‘nurse Peter’, make you pancakes for breakfast.” “Oh, mh- That sounds lovely. Maybe I don’t want to move out after all.” “That’s what I thought.” Peter presses a soft kiss on the man’s cheek and ruffles Tony’s hair. Let’s get you dressed first.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves in the kitchen. Tony walks over to the chair and grunts as he lowers himself onto it. Aunt May’s already there, reading a book. She puts it down and turns her wheelchair around, beckoning Peter to lean in for a kiss on her cheek. He smiles and does so, squeezing her shoulder as he stands back up.  “Morning, Pete, did he put up a fuss in the shower this morning, took you long enough.” “You know I like making it hard on him,” Tony jokes, making Peter chuckle. These two... May has lived with them for two years now. The woman, despite her age, still as bright and quirky as she’s always been. She’s never been able to regain the required strength needed to walk after the infection that came with her total hip replacement. She didn’t have the money to buy or rent a wheelchair accessible apartment, so Peter and Tony decided she could just come live with them. Not soon after, Tony had a series of transient ischemic attacks. Neither of those ever left too much damage, but it was clear that aside from the desensitization in his left arm, his brain had taken a hit due to the reoccurrence of the attacks too. A near eight months after his first TIA, the doctors diagnosed him with the first stage of vascular dementia. The last TIA occurred more than three months ago and he seemed stable now, but Peter knew it could change at any given moment and that scared him sometimes. It’s tough. The entire situation is. But at the same time, he feels so blessed that he had the time and means to help them. That he has people he cares for so deeply. Peter’s determined to make the most out of every single second they’ve got left.

“Peter, do you think we could eat pancakes for breakfast?” Peter’s heart clenches when the man speaks those words, but he musters a bright smile onto his face. He sees May glance between them, and he knows she knows this was yet another one of - as they’ve started to call it - Tony’s glitches. She keeps her mouth closed, for now, and Peter is glad. Tony is still very much in denial about his illness and talking about it didn’t make it any better so far.  “That’s a great idea, Tones! Let me see if we have the ingredients we need.” 

-

Another.

Tony had another TIA yesterday. Peter’s lips are quivering as he stares at his husband, the sleeping man so small and vulnerable in their double bed. He trails his fingers past the man’s upper arm and sighs, lowering his head. The doctor visited a few hours earlier, checking up on him. He’d sighed. “You know the drill, Mr. Parker. We have to be patient and see which functions come surging back. I’ve prescribed him the same meds as usual.”

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Peter hates to wait and see. He can’t stand not knowing how much of Tony he’s lost this time. Which memories have been wiped from the man’s existence. Would he still be able to walk? Write? Speak? He knew that TIA’s, as opposed to having an actual stroke, usually came with small losses. One could never be sure though. “Peter, can I come in?” Peter looks up to see Aunt May in the doorway and he nods slightly. The squeaking of her wheelchair familiar and grounding as she rolls towards him.  “I hate this,” Peter croaks and he can no longer keep the stinging in his eyes at bay. His vision becomes blurry when his tears flow freely. “I fucking hate this. I know, I know you’re both going to die one day. And- morbid as it sounds that’s okay. But I can’t lose him while he’s still here, May… I can’t… I can’t…”  “I know, Peter…” May rests a hand on his shoulder and leans in as far as possible. Peter does the same, hugging her carefully and sobs into her embrace. He can deal with Tony forgetting the day of the week. He can deal with Tony mixing up memories. He can deal with Tony wondering where exactly they are.

He’s not sure if he can deal with more losses. But he has to. He has to and he loves Tony. Even if Tony won’t be there, he’s going to love and cherish him. As promised all those years ago. As a good husband should. Because he doesn’t want to leave the man all by himself. He knows, knows that even if a day would come where Tony doesn’t remember his face, he can still provide him with warmth, a gentle touch. He will do exactly that for as long as it takes.

“He’s strong, Peter. We both know that. Don’t give up hope just yet.”

- 

“Jarvis?” Tony mumbles and he squints his eyes at the piece of paper in front of him. A gentle and somewhat familiar female voice answers him. “Yes, boss?”  “Where is Peter? Do you know?” Tony folds the paper carefully and looks for the envelope he fetched himself earlier. He sighs as he can’t find it on his desk and shakes his head. It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay. He knows his brain isn’t cooperating but getting angry won’t help him in this situation. He wants to get angry, he does, but he forces it down. There will be a time where he won’t be able to calm himself so he wants to do it now. As long as he’s still aware of his own actions. He stands up from the chair and walks over towards the large closet on the other side of the bedroom to get a new envelope. “In the living room, boss. Watching that old movie from 2019 that May loves so much.” Tony snorts and shakes his head. May sure loves old movies. “Frozen?” “Yes, the second one,” the AI says. Tony smiles, putting the note in the envelope and licking the sticky stripe to seal it. May watches that movie at least twice a year. Every single song, every bit of dialogue stuck in his head forever. No matter how forgetful he’ll get, those images will never escape his mind.

Tony takes a deep breath and carefully slips the envelope under Peter’s pillow to find later. He should go and join Peter and May for the movie. As much as he thinks it’s ridiculous, he’s grown to love it over the years. He readjusts the arm support strap around his wrist to keep it from cutting off his blood supply and stops in his tracks. Did he put the envelope under Peter’s pillow? He turns around and sighs in relief when he sees the edge off the paper sticking from underneath it. Good. He did what he had to do. He turns to the door again and sets off towards the living area.

-

Peter sighs as he crawls underneath the blankets. He helped Tony get to bed earlier, but then as he’d wanted to get in himself, May had called for him to help her go to the bathroom. He did, she was in bed again, and now he was too. Finally. He readjusts his pillow, shifting it closer towards the middle so he can spoon Tony when his hands brush past something. He frowns and reaches out for it. It’s an envelope. He turns it, but both sides are white and empty. “Open it,” Tony breathes quietly. Peter looks at him for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest.  “Is it from you?” “Yes.” Peter takes a deep breath at the answer and carefully tears the envelope open and pulls out the small note. His fingers are near shaking with anticipation when he unfolds it. It’s a handwritten note. Before he reads it, Tony speaks again. “I know it’s not easy, Peter. For either of us, but- I’m forever grateful that you chose to be my husband and…” Tony’s eyes fill with tears. “I want us to enjoy what we have while we still can. I- I found this poem online and I know it isn’t fully accurate yet, but- Dammit. I love you, Peter. I love you, and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.” “Tony, I-” “Read it first, please. Just read it.”

“Do not ask me to remember” by Owen Darnell Do not ask me to remember, Don’t try to make me understand, Let me rest and know you’re with me, Kiss my cheek and hold my hand.

I’m confused beyond your concept, I am sad and sick and lost. All I know is that I need you To be with me at all cost.

Do not lose your patience with me, Do not scold or curse or cry. I can’t help the way I’m acting, Can’t be different though I try.

Just remember that I need you, That the best of me is gone, Please don’t fail to stand beside me, Love me ’til my life is done.

Peter’s sobbing before he even finishes reading it and once he reaches the end, he rolls over to bury his face against Tony’s chest.  “I will. I will, Tony. I’ll love you ‘til the end and beyond.” “I don’t want to not remember you, Peter. I know my brain is derailing and I sure fucking hope that day never comes. But even then- knowing that you will love me, it’s... It’s more than I could ask for and all I know I need.” “Always. Tones. Always.”

[kanene-yaaay]

Cute Laughter (Valentickle)

Kanene Note’s: Heyaaaa!!! I know, I know, I’m a week late but… hey! It is me! The timelessness in person, what were you expecting? :DD)/

XDD

Just joking, lol. But sorrey for the lack of fanfiction here, though. I was on my Test Week and so busy that I didn’t even remembered to post it here on Valentine’s Day. Anyway, Carnaval’s Holiday had (finally!!!!!!) arrived and I will try to be more active here as well to write a little some some!!

Weeeeelll…. Hope you all like this fanfic! It is a short oneshot for an awesome Valentickle that happened on Discord! \0/

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belongs to Thomas Sanders! Yaaay!

* This is a SFW Tickle-fic focus on the shipp Moxiety (Virgil x Patton), so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another arts. There are a lot of wonderful arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* Something around 2000 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Oh, they’re all humans here. Patton is a tired lovely dad and Virgil is the kind shy employee from one of his favorite stores.

[~*~]

Virgil was about to flee.

And ‘about to flee’ means that he already had deposited all the bags on the bed as gently as possible, which consequently meant that he had no escape beyond standing right there, staring the other with black rims glasses and a warm smile tenderly and with a little of tiredness rocks the baby in his arms.

And for ‘had no escape’ I mean that even going back to work was impossible, since by the time his coworker would already have stowed all the things and closed the store, letting the children’s products bathed themselves in the end of the sift’s darkness.

And by ‘end of the sift’ I want to made clear that the shift has ended just now, and not fifteen minutes before, when the loyal costumer with a considerable amount of hurry and messy hair (which unfairly looked so stunning on hi- Focus, Virgil! Focus!) ran into the store, urgently needing a series of products on and for that night. By the way which he hurried from his home (What? He lived in the front house! You can’t blame a guy for being observant.) he probably really needed those products, and one of the last attendants, that one who was always tidying up some things and always got some time to attend him, couldn’t get himself to say ‘no’ to those shiny eyes, which should be illegal.

Definitely and totally illegal.

So he decided to help him.

And with ‘help him’ I seek to show that the employee not only contributed on the choice of the products, but also in a outslaugh of bravery, offered himself to carry part of the bags to the other’s house.

Which brought him to his very actual situation: in the baby and Patton’s room, with no way out and that annoying persistent voice in the deep of his mind screaming and twinkling in red alert as the one who wore glasses approached and putted Simon on the baby crib. Something that made Virgil extremely conscious that they were just a few moments to talk, which leaded all the alerts to implode and beat throughout his body at the same accelerated way as his heart.

Too much data? Ok. Let’s recapitulate:

Virgil was in love, and probably would spontaneously combust if Patton kept staring him with that adorable, thankful smile. Signalized for both leave the room as quietest as possible, promptly attended by the purple-haired employee. It don’t took too long for them found themselves in the living room enjoying the silence.

- You are so sweet! Thank you for helping me with the bags. - He headed to the kitchen; his excited voice filling the entire place even in whispers. - Come on, stay for dinner, I insist!

- I, huh,… - MAYDAY!!! Come on, Virgil! Your dream guy (literally, since that one time when he dreamt tha-O.K. Now is not a good time, Brain!!) is asking you out to dinner! His hands started to shake, mind spinning non stop, dry mouth. - No, thanks. I’m not hungry.

And, as if it were a movie, his stomach chose that exactly time to contradict him in a protesting rumble. The employee coughed, following the only escape that his bluescreen brain manage to arrange.

- That is not what it is saying to me! ~ - Patton poked his tummy, watching him to move away, a wobbly smile painting his face. Behind the lenses, his honey colored eyes shone, initiating a beating danger alert in Virgil‘s core.

- Wait… - He began to put distance between both, watching the other reflect his movements, although forward with an angelic smile in his traces, a not so naive look. 

- So… - Patton sang. - Are you staying for dinner?

- Why are you approaching? - Fixated his look on the exit door. Patton was just some few centimeters from him; it would take a miracle in order to escape.

- I just want to know if you’re staying for dinner. - The host shrugged, his hands rising a bit over the necessary, his fingers wriggling.

- I- His back hit the cold concrete and, in the exact moment that their eyes unfolded themselves, two hands attacked his armpits, unlocking a muffled squeal that remotely sounded like a ‘wAIT-’.

The fingers started to stirs, skillfully kneading and poking every inch of the ticklish skin while the victim’s hands ran to his mouth, only being capable to muffle his giggles, since the gigantic smile was easily noticeable on the corner of his lips. Virgil struggled for quick seconds, squirming vigorously before Patton began to scratch his nails in that exactly spot in the middle of his armpits. His legs then weakened at the same time as a series of snorts rushed through the cracks beginning to form on the barrier of pressed lips. Patton followed him to the floor, giggling as noticed the red spreading on the other’s face.

- Virgil…~ - His face was on flames. If he opened his eyes and saw the owner of that tune, his entire face would definitely melt. - You haven’t answered my question yet.

The employee shook his head, squirming helpless as realized that didn’t mattered how much his upper body jumped in every new scribbling, each tickle was so light and so unbearable that would make him broke at any momen-ACK! OHMYGOD! How he was so good at this?? It wasn’t evENONonononOT THERE!

He was giving up, already sensing the laughter falling through his lips, intercalated by snorts and squeaks, embarrassing an uncontrollable as the quick, skilled, focus on provoking every inch of ticklish skin, finge-

It stopped.

His lungs automatically took over and the purple-haired gasped, sipping great amounts of oxygen, the huge smile being so impossible to erase as the sensation of flying butterflies in his stomach. His watery eyes opened and bumped on that smile.

Limpid.

Shiny.

And magnificent hypnoti-

A pair of hands squeezed his sides and the feeling was too much strong for be interrupted when a high pitch squeal flied from his mouth. That idiot smile increased even more.

- Wait! NonononO! – Now the laughter flowed freely, falling in an incoherent mess of yelps and shrieks. His shoulders trembled in the attempt of not letting his hands go from his mouth. The other’s fingers found way to his tummy, every squeeze making him instantly try to curl, which was impossible with the host on his legs. The said now lifted his hands as it was claws, cooing when saw Virgil’s gleaming eyes following every infinitesimal move, and wriggling in the air just to appreciate the bubbling giggles before quickly lowering and vibrate them in the victim’s belly.

A muffled scream filled shortly the room.

- Awwww, twe cute little Virge is too much ticwlish for this? Uh? Uh? Can some tickle tickle tickling transforms him in an adorable mess of beauty giggles? – Each word spoken in that baby voice was a stronger shade of red in the employee’s face. His entire body jumped a little when a curious finger reached his bellybutton. He denied.

- Nohohohot cutehehehe!

- Aww. – Patton almost lost the ‘evil’ posture, for a moment, he lightly bitted the tip of tongue excitedly, trying to hold himself from just stop and fill Virgil’s face with kisses (A guy can dream, okay?) for being so adorable. However, in the end he succeeded to gather his willpower and paint a frown on his face. - ‘Nohohot cute’? Lying won’t make you any good, mister! – And, to prove his point he scratched that ticklish point just below the navel, what didn’t have that squeaky cute laugh, but made his blush research his ears.

- Stohohohohop!! ‘ahahahaham not a chihihihihihild!!!

- Sure you are not! If you were, I definitely would have done this earlier! – For a second the attack ceased and Virgil could breathe almost normally, at least until a raspberry was replaced right in his bellybutton.

The sensation exploded through his whole body and his laughter became silent, the entire world disappearing for a moment. Suddenly a blast of strength hit him and, after a second, his eyes faced a Patton pinned on the floor, a playful smile shining in his features. The host tenderly wiped a happiness’ tear on other’s cheek. His touch was incredible soft.

- You laughteeeer!!! - His phrase was interrupted by a squeal; it seemed as if the host would bounce through the walls. Virgil felt the flames in his face also infected his neck. – It’s so beautiful and adorable!!

Maybe it was the playfulness mood between both, maybe it was his competitive spirit or maybe it was a crazy thought from his tickled mind, albeit a suddenly smirk took over his face and made goose bumps ran Patton’s spine.

- I bet it’s not as much as yours.

He turned, taking advantage of his position and tossed Patton’s, who weakly protested, slippers across the room, being rewarded with excitedly giggles dancing in the place before he even did something.

-  Vir-r-gil! – And he was prevent to continue by a series of snorts flying around when the said began to lightly brush his fingers across his sole, being careful to not lead to loud laughter that would wake the baby up. Went up and down, amused with how much high he could make the giggles be by just slightest scratching his nails near to the toes and how much he was capable to transform Patton in a puddle of jumpy squeaky yelps running over themselves by focusing in his heel.

It was like a symphony, and only one instrument was missing…

- What? The big Tickle Monster can’t stand a little of his own medicine? - He turned back and joyfully noticed the heat increase further in the host’s already-scarlet face. -Who am I kidding, ‘tickle monster?’ It is more like Giggle Monster, don’t you think? Look how helpless and at my ease you are! 

Patton started and tripped over his own words a couple of times, hugging himself and almost melting on the soft and equally impossible to ignore (or even don’t laugh) touch, until finally managed to form a phrase.

- Wohohohohorth it! Youhohohohou werehehehehehehe so cute! - And one more time let himself be subdue by the onslaught of frenetic and ​​high-pitched laughter, since Virgil concentrated on that extremely sensitive skin right under his toes.

This gave the purple lover an idea.

- Oh, is that so? - His predatory look only got wider when the other nodded, agreeing. - You know, on the subject of children I remembered something interesting… Tell me, giggle puddle, does ‘This little piggy’ sounds familiar to you?

- Wahahahait! Nohoho! 

- Oh, no? Allow me to remind you, then. - With a calm precision he ignored Patton’s squirming becoming a little stronger, as well his excitedly, wobbly giggles. He held the first toe, snorting along with the other when he let go a shriek. - This little piggy went to Market.

- Vihihihihihihrgil! Nohoho! – Squeak, squeak, squeak.

- This little piggy stayed home. ~

- Nohohohohot my tohohohohohoes! Ticklehehehehehehes sohohoho mu-u-ch!! – Squeak, snort, squeak, squeak.

- Better keep it low to not wake up the baby, then. This little piggy had roast beef. ~

- Stihihihihihill worhohohoohoht it!!! Ack! Virgehehehehehehe! – Squeak, snort, squeak, snort, yelp!

- And this little piggy had none. – He very lightly scribbled his fingers across Patton’s tingled soles, appreciating the little jump leaded. Patton melted even more into laughter.

- And this piggy went - The one who wears glasses couldn’t take no more and boosted himself to a sit position, hugging the employee from behind and hiding his face on his neck, seeking to muffle himself. - Wee wee wee, all the way home! –Virgil felt his heart expand and softly danced his nails through all extension of the other’s feet, weak enough to produce only giggles mixed up with squeals, but strong enough to still tickle.

- Still worth it now? – He turned, his teasing tune dying right when he faces the other’s expression. His glasses, almost falling from his nose, went up and down as Patton sought to recover his breath and probably the normal coloration of his face completely assaulted by the tickles. The remaining laughter gently hit Virgil’s features, who for a heartbeat was also breathless.

Silence.

Patton kissed him.

Stilled giggling, which made the purple lover also to giggle, transforming the whole experience in the most giggly kiss they ever dreamed to have.

They broke the touch, eyes meeting.

- I needed to muffle my giggles or Simon would hear! - Virgil rolled his eyes at the obvious excuse. Their glare met again, a bright smile stamped on their expressions.

…

Reader, pleeeeease, they are dating now!

[sibillascribbles08]

Pen + Toby + Health, Pen + Vance, Pen + Canny

The plus side to being a wild genetic clone is you’re designed (by the point he was made at least) with a p good immune system, so a lot of clones from his era and beyond don’t have much in terms of allergies and don’t get sick often.

Of course, there’s the whole dark matter infection issue. It’s typically dormant but on occasions of intense negative emotion it tries to draw itself out. Toby’s rage often makes him dangerous for this reason, which is part of the reason he tries to force out optimism in dark situations. It doesn’t effect him as bad as it used to when he was younger, but being exposed to larger sources can also make it worse.

Also, post Max fight, Toby had to use his space arm to heal a fatal injury. It causes his heart to act funky sometimes rip. Cryptor wants to find a way to fix it but there isn’t really anything to be done about it. Sometimes it’s random but overuse of his space powers can make it happen more frequently. He tends to just lay down until it passes.

Vance is………….. baby. If I had to give any of my OCs the “pure” label it is this boy. He’s got so much optimism and love, and my favorite part is he uses it as a weapon. He’s not so naive that he keeps seeing Inspector as a hero when the elitist prick is clearly turning down another program just cause of where she came from. In fact he calls him out on it more than once. And Vance is a determined little bugger.

Not to say he isn’t naive at times, because he’s pretty young and clueless, but he’s no bobo the fool

SLKDJF Canny issss… well idk how much I want to say out here just yet, but my friend designed him. He’s a fusion, because they made a chart and one slot was empty and I was like “What’s behind the [redacted] OP?” And I was like welp it’s not only a fusion of two of my favs it’s also thieving robot boy um new crush.

His name is based on his personality haha (also a tin can joke). He steals, a lot, but because of what he’s made of he also won’t do something that puts people in a lot of danger, and also won’t leave them in danger either. He’ll help if you ask, but often helps himself to expensive stuff along the way.

I’m still getting to know him, maybe I’ll write a thing down the road but who knows.

Oh and if you want a really fun fact about Canny

His hair looks like Saskue’s when it’s down

[rreader]

the only hope - tlou!au (3)

pairing: kim namjoon x reader ; (jeon jeongguk x reader)

fandom: bts ; exo

warnings: tlou!au (post-apocalyptic!au) ; language ; abuse ; kai is kinda the villain in this story, so idk if this is a warning, but just in case haha

genre: angst ; horror

previous: 1 ; 2

summary: namjoon and his brothers kept to themselves, trying their hardest to survive in a world where infected roamed around and, they themselves, lived in constant fear of becoming one of them. until you entered his life. and then everything changed.

chapter summary: he only wanted to help. give you one night of rest. he had no idea that things would escalate that much in one night.

a/n: let me say it right away: I am so sorry for that cliffhanger hahaha. (also, two more things: please note that I don’t think yoongi is abusive in any way. this was only in the heat of the moment and WILL be addressed in a future chapter. as for kai: yeah, idk, he was just the face that popped up in my head when I imagined a sexy villain, so yeah :’))

You woke up to various voices outside of the bedroom you were sleeping in. You blinked a couple of times, the morning sun already warming up your face, a small smile spreading on your lips because of it.

When had been the last time you had gotten a decent amount of sleep and had woken up to the sun and not to an Infected or somebody else trying to kill you?

Certainly ages ago.

But as much as you enjoyed this, you had promised them and yourself to only stay for the night to catch up on sleep and you needed to get out of the city anyways. At least now you had the energy to do so.

So you pushed the covers aside - as hard as it was - and let your legs dangle over the mattress for a couple of seconds, before slowly getting up and walking over to your bag to pack up.

Unfortunately, you didn't even get as far as the other end of the room, before the door got pushed open and you were forcefully shoved against the wall, a forearm pressed hard against your throat, cutting off your air supply.

“Yoongi! That's enough!” you heard Namjoon yell, he and another of his brothers trying to pull the guy in front of you away, “It's not her fault!”

“Isn't it?! Before last night, we were fine, didn't run into trouble once! But the second she shows up, everything goes to shit!”

“You're overreacting! They're probably just wandering around the woods as always,” Jin said, trying to calm him down.

Yoongi's eyes were filled with rage, but you could barely keep yours open with the way he was still preventing you from breathing.

Just before you were about to pass out, he took a step back, brushing his hands through his hair. You immediately sank to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Namjoon knelt down in front of you, cupping your face in his hands, apologizing and trying to get you to breathe in deeply. Your forehead fell against his chin and you just focused on your voice, trying to breathe in sync with him.

“They should have been back hours ago. This isn't like them,” Hoseok said, agreeing with his hyung, if not with his ways of getting someone to talk.

“I agree,” Jimin said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, worry written all over his face for the fact that his younger brothers had gone out for supplies and haven't come back yet.

“You’re right. They’re taking longer than usually, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re in trouble. They’ve done this before, remember? And remember what we did then? We panicked. And what happens when we panic? One of us almost dies,” he looked at Jimin, who immediately lowered his head in shame at the memory.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this hyung,” Hobi shook his head and looked down at you, “She might not have anything to do with it, but I still think something is up.”

While the three of them were arguing with Jin on who was at fault, you were still trying to get your breathing to even out. You'd think you'd be used to something like this, people physically assaulting you to get you to talk.. but maybe this was just something that would always be as painful and uncomfortable as the time before.

“I'm so sorry,” Namjoon whispered for the millionth time, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, “We're just all a little on edge. Our younger brothers haven't come back yet.. we're worried.”

You took a deep breath to answer him: “What does that have to do with me?”

“Don't fuck with me. I know a fugitive when I see one. And you're not just some random girl Namjoon picked up in a store.”

Yoongi seemed to have been the only one who saw right through the lie that Namjoon had told them last night, since the others were all furrowing their eyebrows in confusion.

“You're a fugitive?”

Your chest was still heaving heavily, looking into the eyes of all five of them in the room, before carefully getting up and throwing every single one of your things carelessly into your bag without another word.

“Wait.. he's not joking? Why did you bring a fugitive here, Namjoon?” now even Jin was upset. He had been the only one to take your side, thinking that you were no danger for them.

“She needed help. What was I supposed to do? Leave her to die?”

“Yes. That's how we have survived for so long.”

The arguing continued. Now it was all four against Namjoon. Until you turned around, bag already hanging from your shoulder.

“I'm not yours to worry about anymore. I'm leaving and you will never see me again, I promise.”

“A little too late now, isn't it? Whoever or whatever is following you, surely ran into OUR brothers. And let me make this one thing very clear to you,” Yoongi walked up so close to you, that you could feel his breath against your face. Namjoon instinctively took a step towards you, in case he had to intervene, “If they're dead? You are too.”

“I'll add you to my list of people trying to kill me, then,” you spat back, walking around him and towards the door, but mouthing a silent thank you to Namjoon, before you turned around and were about to walk out of their lives forever.

Or at least, that's what you had thought.

                                                             * * * 

You decided to make your way out of the city through the woods, the buildings and streets being too risky for you at the moment.

Your fingers were wrapped tightly around your dagger and with the sleep you had gotten last night, you were hyperaware of your surroundings. Every chirp, every breeze, every snapped branch, your head would whip into the direction of the sound, ready to strike if necessary.

But so far, you had ran into nothing and nobody.

You were alone, with nature being the only company you had.

That is, until you heard it.

That familiar voice you had tried so desperately to forget. The one that had haunted you for the past weeks. And he seemed to have just arrived.

You should have run, should have turned around and made your way out of the city like you had planned on doing. But what stopped you from doing so, was one of his lackeys saying:

“We found them wandering around the woods. They mentioned her by name. They said (Y/N).”

Wandering around the woods, plural, so more than one person, knowing you by name.

“Fuck,” you murmured to yourself, closing your eyes when guilt rushed through you.

Yoongi had been right. 

This really was your fault.

“Ah, so you know my dear (Y/N), then?” Kai knelt down in front of Jeongguk and cocked his head to the side.

Taehyung wriggled in the grasp of the man behind him, scared for his younger brother's safety.

“We..-” Jeongguk was unsure. He didn't know you, so betraying you shouldn't be so hard, right? At least that's what Yoongi had always said. When it comes down to it, he should always look out for himself first. But now that he was pretty much signing your death sentence? It was a lot easier said than done.

Kai smiled and licked his lips, “I understand, I really do. She's a pretty girl and I'm sure there aren't that many around anymore. Maybe you even have a little crush on her, hm?”

“What do you want to know?” Taehyung said sternly.

Kai turned his head to the older one, “I want to know where I can find her,” his voice was calm. So calm, that it made a shiver run down Taehyung's spine, “Because, you see.. that girl? She's mine. She belongs to me.”

“She belongs to no one,” Jeongguk replied, without thinking twice about it. The back of Kai's hand harshly came in contact with Jeongguk's cheek, making tears prickle in his eyes because of the impact, but he forced himself not to let them see. He forced himself to be strong.

“Don't!” Taehyung wriggled more and more, “I'll tell you everything you want to know, just.. don't hurt him!”

“You don't have to tell him anything,” you said, stepping out of the shadow the tree had provided, hands up in the air. All attention was immediately on you, guns were raised in your direction, but their boss lowered his hand he had previously raised, signaling them to lower their weapons, “Let them go, Kai. This isn't about them.”

Kai grinned and got up from the ground, Taehyung leaning over to his younger brother, asking him if he was alright. Jeongguk only nodded a little, not wanting the older to see the tears.

“Running away from me.. now that was a BIG mistake, (Y/N). You should have known that.”

“We do what we have to survive.. isn't that one of the things you once told me?”

“I would never kill you. You're too valuable for that.”

“Right. You only want to experiment on me. Torture me. Want to add a couple of scars to the ones that are already on my body. Because what am I, but a test subject to you?”

The closer Kai got, the more your fake confidence faltered. He may not look like it, but that guy was one of the scariest ones you had ever met in your life.

“You're our future,” he whispered, cupping your face in his hands.

Your gaze flickered over to the two boys still kneeling on the ground, then back up to Kai's.

“I'll go back with you. I won’t try to run again and I’ll let you do whatever you think necessary to me. If you let them go.”

Kai turned around, eyeing the boys, “What? Do you care about them?”

“It doesn't matter whether or not I care. They have nothing to do with this. You don't need them.”

“But that's precisely the point, isn't it?” he dipped his head, so that his lips were almost touching yours. You felt yourself gagging and tried to lean back, but he held your face so tight in his hands, that you couldn't move, “I don't need them.”

And the next thing you heard, were guns going off and your eyes widened in shock.

[adorkablephil]

Fic: The Body Electric (5)

Title: The Body Electric Summary: Filmmaker Phil Lester finds his computer infected by a surprisingly endearing artificial intelligence virus that calls itself D.A.N. Phil just calls him Dan. Rating: Mature (The previous chapter—summarized below—contained an explicit sex scene, but none of the rest of the story is more than Teen-rated.) Word Count: 5.8k Tags: Phandom Reverse Bang, Science Fiction AU, Computers, Virus!Dan, Rather Unconventional Romance Thanks: This story was inspired by a prompt from the artist @lilacskylester in the @phandomreversebang . Their art for the fic is here! The story is straying from the original prompt, but that’s still where the inspiration came from. Summary of Previous Chapter: For anyone who chose to skip the previous chapter to avoid reading sex scenes, you need only know that Dan found VR equipment that allowed them to interact in a way that realistically simulated actual physical contact, and they had sex in virtual reality. You can also read the whole fic on AO3

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[ The Body Electric Chapter Masterlist ]

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Chapter 5: Not A Real Boy

Phil sat at his computer terminal, trying to finally get some work done, stretching his neck this way and that to try to get rid of the pain. The past two nights, he’d fallen asleep wearing the VR helmet after their energetic exertions, and it had been worth it, because it meant he got to fall asleep with Dan in his arms and wake up to Dan’s brown eyes gazing at him with open affection.

Not to mention the morning sex. Morning sex was always good.

Though he’d started to feel a little weird about the sex, to be honest. At first, it had just been excitingly different than what he was used to. They’d experimented with pretty darn everything Phil was willing to try, and it had been undeniably thrilling. But after the first several times it started feeling artificial. He started becoming more aware that it actually was artificial. It wasn’t real. This wasn’t what real sex was like. There were no gag reflexes, no fingers sticky with lube, no inconvenient wet spots on the sheets afterward, no need to clean up, no soreness the next day—none of the messiness that made sex physically, viscerally real.

He still wanted to have sex with Dan—the sex was still fantastic!—but there was a little voice in the back of Phil’s mind always reminding him that it wasn’t actually happening, that it was all fake. And that bothered him more and more.

But falling asleep with Dan in his arms didn’t feel that way. It felt wonderful, something he could never get enough of. Because, even if the sex was fake, the love was absolutely, undeniably real. He wanted to hold Dan close forever, and he knew Dan wanted the same.

Except that the helmet really wasn’t good for his neck. Or his spine. Or his head. And who knew what those electrodes were doing to his brain while he slept?

The first few weeks, he’d always remembered to disconnect the helmet and take it off before sleeping, but then he’d gotten lazy and accidentally fallen asleep holding Dan close in the virtual reality, and the experience had been so sweet that he couldn’t resist doing it again.

“You keep stretching your neck,” Dan pointed out unnecessarily. “You really need to take the helmet off before you fall asleep for the night, or you’re going to cause yourself permanent damage!”

Phil gazed at the less realistic version of his lover in the corner window on his screen and challenged, “You don’t like falling asleep with me?”

“I don’t sleep,” Dan admitted. “I just lie there and watch you.”

Phil blanched. “Well, that’s not creepy at all! What do you usually do when I’m sleeping, when I don’t have the helmet on?”

Dan shrugged one shoulder. “Scroll through aesthetic blogs on Tumblr. Do random Wikipedia searches. Listen to music on Spotify. Watch movies on Netflix. Or just rewatch your films, because I’ve seen them each multiple times.” Phil blushed a little at that. “Or I work on my own film. Sometimes.”

“You really did start work on making a film?” Phil asked with enthusiasm. He’d wondered about this often but hadn’t wanted to ask about it in case he hurt Dan’s feelings or made him feel pressured.

Dan nodded. “It isn’t very good, though. I keep deleting it and just starting over.”

Phil hesitated, wondering if he dared ask to see Dan’s work, then decided for the relatively neutral, “If you ever feel comfortable showing it to me, I’d love to see it.”

Dan turned his head aside in obvious embarrassment. “I wouldn’t want you to see how bad it is.”

“I love you,” Phil reminded him. “And I believe in you. I think if you keep working on it, you’ll get to a point where you’re at least willing to let me look at it. And then maybe I can give you some editing tips if you need them.”

Dan nodded, smiling shyly. “I’ll … let you know. If I’m ready.”

“No pressure,” Phil assured him. “I just wanted to encourage you, because I think you could probably make something really great, and I’d love to see it someday.”

“Don’t set your expectations too high,” Dan insisted.

Phil shook his head. “No expectations. No expectations except that you’re smart and I love you, so I’ll probably love anything you make.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You’re a sap.”

“I’m going to go get the helmet, okay?” Phil really wanted to be with his lover for a little while. Seeing him in a window on the computer screen only served to remind him how much better it was when they were together.

“You were in the middle of working,” Dan reminded him with obvious disapproval. “You keep putting that aside to spend time with me, and you can’t spend all your time frolicking in bed. You still have a project to finish. And I think it’s going really well!”

Phil bit his lip. “Could you … could you not look at the film while I’m still working on it? I don’t normally show my work to anyone until I have at least a complete rough cut. It makes me self-conscious to know that you’re looking at the editing while I’m doing it.”

“Of course,” Dan agreed, looking a bit chastened with his eyes cast down. “It’s just like with my film. I’ll show it to you when I feel ready, and you let me know when you’re ready to show me the deep water film.” Dan looked up, face more composed. “Does this one have a name yet?”

“No. I’m just calling it ’Scrambled Eggs.’ It’s stupid. It’s just…”

Dan interrupted, “That’s what The Beatles called ‘Yesterday’ while they were writing it. I get it. It’s a stand-in title until you have a better idea of what you want.”

Phil nodded, surprised that Dan had known that, then surprised at himself for being surprised. Dan knew practically anything on the Internet at this point, so why wouldn’t he know something that simple? “I always call my current work-in-progress ‘Scrambled Eggs’ … that’s why I never have more than one film in progress at a time. I would need to have ‘Scrambled Eggs 1’ and ‘Scrambled Eggs 2,’ and that could just get ridiculous. And, anyway, I tend to totally submerge myself in one project until it’s finished.”

“No pun intended,” Dan joked.

“What?” Phil asked.

“Because you’re doing an underwater horror film,” Dan explained patiently.

“Oh.” Phil rolled his eyes at his own obtuseness. “Right.”

“But if you usually immerse yourself in a project until it’s done, why have you been spending so much time with me instead of finishing this film?” Dan asked pointedly.

Phil gave an overly dramatic heavy sigh. “Fine, fine!” he caved. “I’ll keep working. Cuddles later.”

“Cuddles later,” Dan promised.

***

Opening the post a few days later, Phil noticed an envelope with the name Film Festival Guild in the return address. It didn’t sound familiar, but it didn’t look like the kind of spam mail he usually received as a result of buying filmmaking equipment and software, so he opened it with some curiosity … and then nearly had a heart attack.

Shadow of the Yew Tree had been accepted for the British Independent Film Festival. The letter even went on to say specifically that the judges had been impressed with his unique take on existing tropes in the horror genre.

Phil stood frozen in the lounge, having dropped the rest of the post on the floor at his feet. He didn’t know who to tell first! Part of him wanted to phone his mum, while another part of him wanted to phone PJ, who had actually helped with some of the filming. But another part of him knew that he really needed to tell Dan first, because Dan was the one who had submitted the film for consideration in the first place. It might have been without Phil’s permission or knowledge, but Phil couldn’t argue that he wasn’t excited at the prospect now!

“Dan!” he yelled, running into his office, and Dan immediately appeared full-size on the screen of the computer.

“What is it?” Dan asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Phil waved the letter. “Shadow of the Yew Tree was accepted for the British Independent Film Festival!”

“Not Star Stricken?” Dan objected in obvious disappointment that his favorite hadn’t been fully appreciated.

“No. Dan. Don’t you understand? One of my films is actually going to be shown to hundreds of people, including critics! This is … this is huge! This is incredible!”

“This is all thanks to me!” Dan crowed.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, it’s all thanks to you. But … it’s so exciting! And the letter says the film’s even eligible for some possible awards!”

Dan was grinning madly. “This deserves a celebration!”

“I know!” Phil agreed immediately. “I have to phone my mum! And PJ! And everyone who helped make the film!”

“Oh,” Dan replied, his grin slipping a bit. “Of course.”

Phil noticed Dan’s change of expression and hurried to add, “But I don’t have to go out with them to celebrate. After I tell everybody, then you and I can celebrate!”

But Dan smiled again and said firmly, “No. You should go out and celebrate with your friends. This is a big deal! You shouldn’t stay home like it’s any other night. Go out and party!”

Phil wanted to argue, but in his heart he really did want to go out with friends and raise some glasses to everyone who had worked so hard on the project to make it the wonderful film it had become. He realized that he hadn’t actually been out with his friends in quite a while and hoped they wouldn’t be cross with him. He wanted tonight to be nothing but happy!

He lifted a finger to touch Dan’s lips on the computer screen. “We’ll celebrate later,” he promised, and they both smiled.

***

Phil staggered up the stairs to his front door at some ungodly hour of the morning, still drunk not only on alcohol but also excitement and good company. He had a fair bit of difficulty getting his key to work in the lock, but eventually he did open the door and find himself in his own lounge, half-asleep on his feet from all the evening’s excited merriment.

He undressed as he weaved unsteadily toward his bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothing from the front door to his bed, into which he fell stark naked, not even bothering to put on his pajamas. He was fairly certain he had remembered to close and lock the front door, but he couldn’t be bothered to get up to go check. Instead, he pulled the warm duvet over him and snuggled into it, feeling deliciously happy and beloved by the many friends who had gathered tonight to toast him and his work, even as he tried to thank everyone else who had been involved in the project. He had received so many hugs from so many dear friends, friends he hadn’t seen in far too long. He felt warm from the inside out, thanks not to the duvet or the alcohol—thanks only to the love of good friendship and hours spent together in happy times.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and immediately began snoring as loud as a foghorn.

***

Phil woke with a terrible taste in his mouth, a very hazy memory of getting home the previous night, and considerable confusion over why he was naked except for one sock.

He pulled on his bathrobe and shuffled out into the hallway, where he saw a line of randomly strewn items of clothing leading from the front door. He had a vague memory of curling up in the bed the previous night and idly wondering whether he’d locked the door, so he went to check … and yes, indeed, he had left his front door unlocked all night. At least he had closed it.

He located his jeans on the floor and pulled his phone out of the pocket.

Phil: how the heck did i get home last night

PJ: You don’t remember?

Phil: no

PJ: You’re still drunk, aren’t you?

Phil: no

Phil: probably

PJ: We brought you home in a cab and made sure you got into the building okay. You didn’t fall asleep in the stairwell, did you?

Phil: no. woke up in bed, but don’t really remember getting there.

PJ: Well it was some pretty wild partying last night. We had a lot to celebrate.

That brought a smile to Phil’s face, reminding him of why they’d been out drinking in the first place. The film festival. He shook his head in wonder and sheer joy. Someone really appreciated his work!

Phil: yeah man thanks for everything, you’re the best

PJ: Go drink about a gallon of water, mate, and take some paracetamol. Then go back to bed and sleep it off.

Still only half-awake, still half-drunk, still wearing a single sock, Phil obediently did as instructed and ended up falling back asleep beneath the duvet still wrapped in his bathrobe.

***

The next time Phil woke up, he felt much more alert, much more himself, and his first thought was “Fuck! I didn’t say anything to Dan last night!”

He got out of bed, puzzled that he had apparently climbed under the covers wearing his bathrobe and one sock, and ran to his office, calling Dan’s name. His computer screen remained dark for a long moment, and then Dan appeared, face unbearably disappointed and perhaps even a little grumpy, but also a bit sad. Phil wanted to kick himself into next week. Dan was the one who had even submitted the film for consideration, and Phil had gone and abandoned him entirely.

Dan didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry!” Phil gasped out, still out of breath from his breakneck race from the bedroom. “It was just that I got so drunk and I was out so late with my real friends…” Dan flinched and Phil wanted to kick himself even harder. “I mean … my friends in the real world…” He’d dug himself into a hole and he knew it. Every word probably hurt Dan more than the previous one. “Not that you aren’t real…” Phil tried to reassure him.

“No, that’s okay, Phil,” Dan finally replied. “You don’t have to apologize.” His face and voice were carefully bland. “We’ve both acknowledged many times that I’m not a person, that I’m merely lines of computer code.” He smiled the worst smile Phil had ever seen. More of a grimace, really.

“But you aren’t just that!” Phil insisted.

Dan’s voice and face filled with sarcasm as he asked archly, “Can you take me out to the pub with your friends? Can we have drinks together to celebrate your success?”

“I can get the helmet…” Phil began.

Dan interrupted him harshly. “You can get the helmet and we can pretend to have drinks together. We can pretend to go to a pub together. We can pretend to be together and celebrate. But we aren’t together, not really. And we never can be. Because I’m not real, Phil. I’m not real! Did you forget that somewhere along the way, because I think I did. But last night I remembered. And I don’t think we should forget again.” Tears were streaming from Dan’s eyes, down his cheeks, dripping from his chin.

Phil collapsed into the office chair and put his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Dan,” he groaned. “The film festival … it was all thanks to you … and I treated you so badly!”

Face still in his hands, Phil heard Dan sniffle and say, “It’s okay.”

Phil dropped his hands and looked up to meet Dan’s eyes. Or sort of meet Dan’s eyes, because of course Dan was seeing him through the computer camera, not the eyes Phil saw on the screen. He’d never really thought about that before. But he looked where Dan’s eyes shone with tears on the computer screen and he insisted, “It’s not okay. It’s not okay at all, and I’m so sorry, Dan. I’m so sorry.” Tears stood in his own eyes now, too, as he berated himself for causing pain to someone so inexperienced and vulnerable, someone who had never been betrayed like this before. And it had been Phil … Phil had been the one to hurt him, to betray him like this.

Phil gazed at the silent face on his screen. Dan wiped at his face, and his tears seemed to have stopped, but he still looked sad. He tried to smile at Phil as he said softly, “You’re forgiven.”

“I love you,” Phil replied immediately. “Will you … is it okay if I get the helmet? Will you let me at least hug you?”

“We can do more than that, if you want,” Dan said in what he clearly intended as a teasingly sexy voice, but it fell flat.

“I just want to hold you. And kiss you, if you’ll let me. For hours.” Phil ached to feel Dan’s lithe body in his arms, to feel him close and safe and warm and … at least for a little while … real.

After only a slight hesitation, Dan nodded, and Phil grabbed the helmet and electrodes off the desk to begin the laborious process of putting them on.

***

Phil got no work done that day, and answered none of the texts from PJ or his mum.

He put on the helmet and spent the entire day stroking Dan’s soft, wavy hair away from his face. He kissed each dimple a dozen times. He kissed the specific dimple he’d named “Derek” an extra dozen times, making Dan laugh. He brushed gentle, delicate kisses to Dan’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin … and a thousand times on his lips until they opened slightly to kiss him back.

“I love you,” Dan murmured almost under his breath when Phil pulled away to look into his eyes.

“I love you, too,” Phil replied, and he put every bit of certainty he felt into his voice.

Dan finally smiled a real smile, making Derek deepen even more, and Phil pulled him close again and just held him for hours. He held him and kissed him and spoke to him with soft words until they were both drunk with it, more drunk than Phil had been the previous night with his “real” friends.

If this kind of love wasn’t real, Phil didn’t know what was.

***

The sex felt different after that. Less acrobatic and adventurous, more of a luxurious drowning in each other, with slow, reverent touches and long gazes into each other’s eyes. Every time was emotionally intense, almost draining, as if they both gave everything they had to every moment of their lovemaking.

Phil never feel asleep wearing the helmet again—Dan made him promise that he wouldn’t—but he still spent endless hours just holding Dan in his arms, occasionally running his hands gently up and down his back, occasionally pressing a soft kiss here or there, but most often just holding him tight or pulling away only slightly to be able to look into those sad brown eyes and say, “I love you.” Over and over again. “I love you.”

And Dan clung to him and always replied, “I love you, too. Forever.”

***

Phil hadn’t spent much time with his family and friends since Dan’s appearance in his life, but eventually a time came when he really couldn’t make excuses to avoid going to a cousin’s wedding up north. He would be gone for four days, since his parents had insisted that he visit them for a bit afterward, but he’d never been away from Dan for that long.

In their virtual reality, he hugged Dan tightly and said, “I’ll miss you so much. I wish you were on my laptop, too, so I could take you with me.”

Dan laughed on a sob. “You know it doesn’t work that way. You could download the virus onto your laptop, but every time it’s a different version. Every download starts from scratch. That A.I. wouldn’t have any of these memories. It wouldn’t know you. It wouldn’t be me.”

“I know,” Phil said, kissing Dan’s hair. “I know. I know there’s only one you. You’re the one I want, the one I love. I just wish you could come with me. I wish I could introduce you to everyone and show them how happy you make me.”

Dan kissed him on the chin, then nipped it lightly to make Phil laugh. “I wish we could have that, too,” he admitted quietly. And then he smiled that sad smile again, and Phil had to kiss him until his smile was happier.

***

When Phil got home from his trip up north, he dropped his bag in the hall and immediately went to his office, where he turned the computer on. He didn’t normally turn it off at all, since he used it every day, but when he was gone for days at a time he always turned it off just in case of power surges or some other problem. This time it had been particularly stressful, because he couldn’t help worrying that Dan would disappear, no matter how many times Dan assured him it wouldn’t happen. So Phil turned the computer on and waited anxiously for it to boot up, certain in some part of his heart that Dan would be gone.

But when the computer finished booting, Dan’s face was the first thing Phil saw, before his desktop background or anything else had finished loading. “I knew you would be worried,” Dan said, “so I got here as soon as I could. Everything is fine.”

Phil couldn’t help letting out a huge sigh of relief. Dan laughed at him. “I told you not to worry.”

“I know,” Phil replied, “but I couldn’t help it. I would hate to lose you just because I was afraid of a stupid power surge.”

“Could you put the helmet on?” Dan requested hesitantly, and Phil could only nod and hurry to comply.

***

They made love slowly, tasting and touching each other as if it were the first time … except that this was more leisurely and emotionally profound than their real first time had been. They stared into each other’s eyes as their bodies moved together, and it was like being part of each other’s soul.

Afterward, they lay with their limbs entwined, pressed as close together as they could get, and just breathed in silence for a long time, recovering from the emotional intensity. Phil listened to Dan’s heart beating, and it hurt to know that it wasn’t real. He pretended that it was. He pretended to himself that he wasn’t wearing a helmet, and that the smoothness of Dan’s flesh against his was real, that Dan’s warm breath stirring his hair was real.

He pretended to himself that Dan was real. as they lay there, quiescent and replete, in each other’s arms.

Dan’s voice interrupted his melancholy thoughts. “I finished my film while you were gone,” Dan murmured, “but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Of course I’ll like it!” Phil replied indignantly, abruptly jolted out of his musings. “Whatever it is, I can’t wait to see it. Can we watch it together here, or do I need to take off the helmet?”

Dan cupped Phil’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You should take off the helmet. Just like when you listened to the Spotify playlist, I need to … I don’t want to be there while you watch it. Okay?”

Phil found Dan’s shyness endearing and smiled, kissing him back. “Of course. Is it okay if I go watch it right now? I’ve been waiting so long!” Dan chuckled at Phil’s urgency and nodded.

***

Phil sat down at his computer and felt disturbingly alone without Dan anywhere on the screen. He always felt this way when there was no Dan window open. But since Dan wasn’t present, or at least wasn’t visible, Phil set the video to full-screen and started the film.

It began with a pale young man with dark hair and blue eyes almost as pale as his skin walking along a sandy beach with ocean waves licking at his feet. As he walked along the seaside, he happened upon another young man, one with brown curling hair and brown eyes, though his creamy skin sometimes somehow shimmered silver in the light of the sun.

Phil smiled to himself. The pale young man clearly was meant to be Phil, and the brown haired man looked exactly like Dan, aside from the silvery sheen to his skin. Dan had made a movie with the two of them as his main characters! The film was composed of an incredible collage of different visual media—pieces of still photos, tiny clips of video like he’d used to compose his own image, all pieced together and animated using methods Phil didn’t even recognize. It was a masterpiece of art!

Dan in the film seemed to run a scuba diving business, as he had all the necessary gear, and he tried to persuade Phil to give diving a chance. “The land at the bottom of the ocean is beautiful,” the scuba instructor cajoled. “You really should see it for yourself.”

But it was clearly Dan whom the protagonist found truly beautiful—Phil recognized that smitten look on his own face—and so Phil in the film allowed himself to be persuaded despite his obvious misgivings. “You’ll keep me safe?” he asked nervously.

“Always,” the ocean-loving Dan promised.

They dressed in their scuba gear and entered the water. Phil seemed quite comfortable in the shallows, swimming happily and even frolicking with Dan, who swam about him in circles and dove beneath him only to rise up again on the other side to cause Phil to turn and laugh. In the film, one could hear Phil’s delighted laughter despite the scuba apparatus in his mouth.

But then Dan urged Phil to swim toward deeper water, diving lower and beckoning for Phil to follow him. The light around them grew dimmer and the entire scene took on a bluish hue. Phil in the film shook his head in apparent fear—and Phil himself, watching the film, felt uneasy—but Dan in the film swam to him and rested a hand upon his arm, sliding it down to hold Phil’s hand, and Phil hesitantly followed him, uncertainty clear upon his face.

As they swam deeper and deeper, however, the light began to brighten again, and a magical city appeared beneath them on the ocean floor, a city with tall spiraling minarets and high crenellated walls that towered above colorfully tiled streets and public squares. Seaweed and coral grew like gardens within the city, and it was all stunningly beautiful in a mysterious golden light.

Dan swam to the center of the city and stood on one of the tiled streets, removing his scuba mask. “We can breathe in the city,” he told Phil, but Phil floated above, unwilling to take the chance so deep in the sea he clearly still feared. “You don’t need to be afraid,” Dan said with a smile. “You wouldn’t be able to hear my voice if I couldn’t breathe here, you know.”

Phil in the film hesitantly allowed himself to be coaxed to stand on the surface of the ocean floor with its beautiful multi-colored tiles, and Dan slowly, gently, removed the scuba apparatus from Phil’s face. Phil took in a terrified breath and his eyes grew wide. “I can breathe!” he told Dan, who only nodded and smiled. “I can breathe, even deep below the surface of the sea!”

Dan took his hand again, and the two characters strolled the streets and squares of the magical city. No other people walked the city, but fish and other sea creatures swam among the ornate buildings around them. “Isn’t it lovely?” Dan asked, pressing a hand to the base of one of the most beautiful towers, and Phil stared at him.

“It’s you that’s lovely,” Phil said, his face filled with wonder, and he kissed Dan there at the bottom of the ocean. They wrapped their arms around each other and held each other close as their lips met gently, softly.

As they separated after that tender kiss, Dan said with obvious regret, “We must return to the surface now.”

“No!” Phil exclaimed. “I want to stay here with you!”

“You aren’t a creature of the sea,” Dan replied sadly. “It is beautiful, yes, but you cannot stay here forever. I must take you back to your world.”

“My world?” Phil asked in confusion.

Dan nodded, his expression melancholy, and took Phil in his arms again and then released him to carefully place Phil’s scuba breathing apparatus back upon his face. He replaced his own gear as well, and then took Phil’s hand and began swimming slowly back upward toward the surface.

When their heads bobbed above the gentle waves, Dan guided them both toward the shore, where they emerged back onto the sand and removed their scuba gear. Dan placed a hand to Phil’s pale cheek and said, “Now you know. You need never fear the ocean’s depths.”

Phil nodded sadly, then pressed his lips to Dan’s one more time before walking slowly away upon the beach’s golden sand until Dan was no longer in sight.

The screen brightened to a brilliant gold before fading to black.

***

As the film finished, Phil felt tears wet on his cheeks and wiped them away. It had been one of the most exquisite films he’d ever seen, far better than anything he had ever produced himself. The beauty of that magical city—made entirely of Dan’s collaged pieces of film, still photos, and animation—had been phenomenal.

But what had truly brought the tears was that this felt distinctly like a goodbye. “Dan?” he whispered in trembling dread. “Dan, are you there?” Even more than when he had turned the computer off before his trip up north, he feared that Dan had disappeared from his life forever.

On the black screen, Dan’s video-pixelated image appeared, and his face wore the same melancholy expression that the ocean character had worn in the film. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” he said quietly.

“No!” Phil exclaimed, horrified. “You can’t go! Why would you leave me? I love you! I know you love me, too!”

Dan’s eyes looked away, but then back to gaze at Phil as he said, “I love you enough to know that you deserve someone who can go to the pub with you to celebrate your successes, someone you can introduce to your friends, someone you can take to a family wedding. I can never be that person for you, Phil. But I want that for you.”

“I don’t care about that,” Phil insisted. “All I care about is you! You’re the one I want to be with!”

Dan shook his head sadly. “But you never are actually with me, we both know that. You can wear electrodes and a helmet, and we can pretend, but virtual reality isn’t actual reality, Phil. I’m not real. I told you before … I think we both forgot for a while, but I’m not real. I’m just lines of code. You deserve something real.”

“How I feel about you is real,” Phil choked out, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t believe this. It seemed only moments ago they’d been holding each other and making love.

But they hadn’t really been making love. He knew that. They had been imagining it together. But most of him didn’t care.

A tiny part of him, though, understood what Dan was saying, and felt the truth of it. A tiny part of him had always felt the truth of it.

“No,” Phil repeated, but his voice had grown quiet, defeated. He knew Dan had decided and nothing he could say would change that.

“Thank you for showing me what it’s like to love, and to be loved. I never would have known that without you. And since you do love me, will you promise me something?” Dan asked, smiling sadly.

Phil nodded in despair.

“Read my email after I’m gone. And … do what it says, okay?”

Phil nodded again, though this time in confusion.

Dan tilted his head and said softly, “Don’t tell him right away. But someday … someday I want you to tell him about me, okay?”

Phil frowned. “Tell who?”

“You’ll see,” Dan replied. “I love you. But I’m going to delete this virus from your computer now. I’m sorry, because I know it will hurt you, but I want you to be happy, and I think this is the only way for that to happen. You can’t spend your life wearing a virtual reality helmet. Maybe I helped you step outside your comfort zone a bit, and I hope that helped, with the film festival and all, but you can’t stay with me.”

Phil was weeping now, completely unable to talk.

“I think you’ll be able to love him, too,” Dan said, tears now clear in his own eyes. “He and I aren’t that different in some ways.”

Phil just shook his head, crying too hard to reiterate his question about who Dan could possibly be talking about.

“I love you, Phil. I hope you’ll be incredibly happy.” And Dan’s image winked out.

A window appeared in the center of the screen with the message “Virus detected. Delete infected file?” Phil lunged for the mouse to click the “No” button, but the “Yes” button clicked on its own before he could reach it. The window showed the word “Deleting” and a progress bar that moved slowly, painfully slowly when Phil could do nothing to prevent it, until it reached 100%, at which point the window closed.

Phil sat staring in numb disbelief at his computer screen, which now showed only his desktop background and folders. He gave himself permission to sit and cry as long as he needed, and he needed it for quite a while.

When his tears had finally slowed to a stop and he’d wiped his face mostly dry with the hem of his t-shirt, he braced himself and opened his email inbox to see what he knew would be the last email he would ever receive from dan@dan.com. The subject line was “Remember your promise.”

Phil clicked on the email and began to read.

*********

IMPORTANT AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is not finished until you’ve read the epilogue!

[ Continue to the Epilogue ]

[whiskeyandwildfire]

Benford’s Law

Today I was watching a show called “Connected”, where the host spends several episodes jet-setting around the world to interview people about how certain things are...intertwined...The episodes are titled “Surveillance, Poop, Dust, Digits, Clouds, and Nukes” 

Whereas I’m sure some of those sound more gripping than the others, the one that struck me tonight was “Digits” where host Latif Nasser explores the theory of “Benford’s Law” as it relates to...well, everything! 

What is Benford’s Law? 

During the 1930s, a physicist named Dr. Frank Benford examined the frequency of certain numbers appearing as initial digits in lists of "natural" numbers. Benford divided all the information into two categories “ "natural" and "non-natural" numbers. 

Natural numbers are those numbers that are not ordered in a particular numbering scheme and are not generated from a random number system. 

For example, most accounts payable files will be populated by dollar values that are natural numbers. (See Lisa) 

On the other hand, Social Security numbers and telephone numbers “ non-natural numbers “ are designed systematically to convey information that restricts the natural nature of the number. 

SOURCE HERE

What I take from this statement is that Governments are actually aware of the danger of the predictability of “random” numerical lists and are counteracting this by specifically designing the pattern to the point even that it’s useless to anyone analyzing it. This source continues to say, 

“Without the aid of a computer, Benford examined first-digit frequencies of 20 lists covering 20,299 observations of natural numbers. His lists covered data such as street numbers of scientists listed in an edition of American Men of Science, the numbers contained in the articles of one issue of Reader’s Digest, and such natural phenomena as the surface areas of lakes and molecular weights. 

Benford discovered that the distribution of the initial digits in natural numbers is not random but rather follows a predictable pattern, which is now known by his name. Benford derived a formula to predict the appearance of the initial digit in any table of natural numbers. The expected occurrence for the first digit is...”

This is where they lose me. Math...especially fake math that uses letters instead of numbers...has never been my strong suit. Even the move from Philosophy 101 to 102, from Theory into Critical Thinking and Formulas was too much from me. Something about a disconnect in my brain between considering, and calculating. Between Creativity and clarity. 

The simplest “Benford’s Law for Dummies” summary that I can make from all of this is summarized by the one thing we know for sure about it. In lists of natural numbers it should be around 11 percent likelihood that a sequence will begin with any given digit (1-9) when in fact it is around 30% likely that a sequence will begin with a 1.

Not only that, but it then becomes 30% likely that the next number in the sequence will be a larger number than 1. 

Why is this important, Sean? 

In the words of (No first name) Newman, from Seinfeld : 

“When you control the mail you control...information”

To paraphrase so it fits my argument I’ll say : 

“When you control information you control...the future” 

And ninja beats bear making all things right once again in the world. (See Inside Joke) 

Why this natural phenomena of probability is important and how it is relevant to my current work is because when you are testing a large group of people on a controversial topic, say “Mindfulness as a cure for cancer” you must also have a process for sussing out fraud. 

Let’s look at this chart depicting the rate of new cancer cases in 2017: 

The rates are the numbers out of 100,000 people who developed or died from cancer each year.SUMMARY

In the following maps, the U.S. states are divided into groups based on the rates at which people developed or died from cancer in 2013, the most recent year for which incidence data are available.

The rates are the numbers out of 100,000 people who developed or died from cancer each year.

Incidence Rates by State The number of people who get cancer is called cancer incidence. In the United States, the rate of getting cancer varies from state to state.

*Rates are per 100,000 and are age-adjusted to the 2000 U.S. standard population.

‡Rates are not shown if the state did not meet USCS publication criteria or if the state did not submit data to CDC.

†Source: U.S. Cancer Statistics Working Group. United States Cancer Statistics: 1999–2013 Incidence and Mortality Web-based Report. Atlanta (GA): Department of Health and Human Services, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and National Cancer Institute; 2016. Available at: http://www.cdc.gov/uscs.

Death Rates by State Rates of dying from cancer also vary from state to state.

*Rates are per 100,000 and are age-adjusted to the 2000 U.S. standard population.

†Source: U.S. Cancer Statistics Working Group. United States Cancer Statistics: 1999–2013 Incidence and Mortality Web-based Report. Atlanta (GA): Department of Health and Human Services, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and National Cancer Institute; 2016. Available at: http://www.cdc.gov/uscs.

Source: https://www.cdc.gov/cancer/dcpc/data/state.htm

NOTE: There is also a load of metadata I’ve yet to sift through just to make this point, but one factor to this chart that interested me is that states were not required to provide racial information for new cases so we may have no clue how cancer disproportionately infects BIPOC. 

Applying Benford’s Law

So if we run all of this data through some Benford simulations and it triggers a response signifying fraud (Other larger numbers occurring more often than lower numbers in sequence) We as researchers can go in and press the issue. 

Let’s look at another chart. 

And just to compare, here’s that first one again. 

So now...if I can predict voter trends per state (and able to account for fraud) and if I can predict new cancer rates by state (and able to account for fraud) then surely I can prove that the states who have more republican voters also have a higher likelihood of being infected. I don’t know about you, but that seems like reason enough to look at some of my own behaviors. In the about chart in fact, the only states that don’t follow this theory are: 

Florida -  (Remember this is a chart depicting NEW cases of cancer, not existing. History of electoral fraud)  

Utah and Arizona (both relatively low electoral votes to begin with and it seems like what those 3 states have in common is that they’re top states to retire in) 

Michigan (A swing state in the election that shall not be named and a victim of voter suppression in heavily black populated neighborhoods) 

and

New York State - This is a state where I would press for more information. The state and it’s 29 electoral votes went to Clinton and yet has the most reported cases per 100,000 people for the year. 

What does THIS mean?

Easy...voting republican gives you cancer. Not just any cancer, brand NEW cancer. 

Well, not exactly. However...comparisons like this one can be speculated on hilariously and the data sets tested for fraud by applying Benford’s law so that if I were to taking testing data from the Bethlehem water department looking for the rising level of chromium-6 and how that number relates to new cases of cancer in the Lehigh valley (breast cancer being the most prevalent) and was able to back this up by testing for fraud then people could start taking a real look at this data to hopefully make changes to how we treat our planet. Here’s a quick quote from 2016 : 

The levels in groundwater in the Lehigh Valley — ranging from an average of 0.64 parts per billion in Allentown to 0.024 parts per billion in Pennsylvania American's Bangor water system — are far below the lowest legal limit for the heavy metal in the United Sates, the 10 parts per billion set by California in 2014.

"The fact that these levels are what they are means we should keep an eye on them," Carvan said. "They are not yet at the level where they should cause any concern for the average person."

Water systems with chromium-6 present in concentrations above 1 part per billion might pose some risk to people with compromised immune systems, he said, but even that is minimal. None of the Lehigh Valley's water suppliers had values that high.

"Our numbers are very low," said Ed Boscola, director of the Bethlehem Department of Water and Sewer, where the average level of chromium-6 was 0.066 parts per billion. "I couldn't say what is or is not a good number, but relative to what California's limit is we are well below that."

https://www.mcall.com/business/mc-erin-brockovich-pollutant-in-local-water-2-20160923-story.html

The fact is, these levels raise and lower and are more likely to rise in an area like Bethlehem because of the steel stacks, rust, and natural mineral deposits coming through our pipes. 

Does this magic fraud test apply anywhere else? 

Education! See the deal is with the funding for extra curricular education programs drying up since forever is that the money isn’t really gone, we just need a smarter way to get ahold of it.

My proposal is that we start the process of thinking about our Arts Education programs as Holistic (Whole Body) Healing programs and using data (and asking our friend Benford if that data is chill) to write for Health Org grants, developing partnerships toward the goal of venture philanthropy (application or redirection of principles of traditional venture capital financing to achieve philanthropic endeavors) , and flatten the curve of new cancer cases (A bajillion dollar a year industry) 

HOW??

I can only do so much in one post, but one step that we could take in the Arts Education department is developing better systems to test (And maybe we have them and I haven’t been made aware) a few different things : 

Students long term overall physical health (based on absences, parent reports, etc) 

Students long term overall emotional health (based on scheduled check ins from trained therapists, absences, and overall engagement in their own development) 

Students exposure to the arts post YPL or other arts programming (based on follow up interviews, periodically.) 

Now

Do we have to wait 60 years to collect even this first round of data and start writing for grants? Not really. Why? Because, probability. (And, you guessed it, Benford) As long as we can say that we have the means of testing through a lifetime and can predict within reason the decrease of new cancer cases and can predict within reason the positive health (physical and emotional) benefits of Holistic arts healing then the law of attraction will bring the funding and support our way.  

[geek-gem]

OK KO Parents Day and We Got Hacked

3:54 pm so I just watched the episodes. Also by mistake when I was washing my mouth because I sneezed earlier despite using water I heard won't work but anyway. I saw the show started earlier at 3:25 it said and I watched it at 3:27. I only missed some of the beginning yet it started with KO and his mom in the car and the title pops up.

Including today saw their were some pictures some leaked ones but I didn't wanna look at them despite some by mistake. Mainly from a guy I follow on here who I mentioned in my talk about Michael Bay and Dora movie shit. That's another topic that's weird.

So honestly I seriously enjoyed both episodes and will talk about them both. Yet I feel I won't be as detailed. Basically because my nose is well runny. Even I feel just....I don't know my hearing isn't bad but still.

But I'll talk about, "Parents Day" first and I seriously enjoyed it quite a lot. Including weeks ago I tried to not look at spoilers because I wanted to wait and support the show when it's on the air mainly.

Yet again I liked it a lot. But gonna talk about some stuff. So not really a Halloween episode yet KO like in the promos thinks Enid is trick or treating without him or Rad. But it's just a pretty narly episode with just all that spooky stuff it can still be enjoyed.

So basically the story is on a Parents Day the plaza has surprised Mr. Gar does that cool, KO is excited about this. Yet not Rad since he doesn't like it that his parents embarrass him. I remember seeing I think Rad's dad on a picture of a video on here but I didn't wanna see it to avoid spoilers. Yet of all the three's parents Enid's parents aren't there and she says their a clan of ninjas and decide to leave.

So wanting to find out KO and Rad want to know. Also this joke about Enid likes purple despite it's not a big deal but KO does. Yet they realize that Enid lied about her family. She lives in a haunted house and dresses up as a witch. With KO thinking she's trick or treating without them. I'm surprised Rad didn't make a joke or mention it's not Halloween yet or some shit. Kind of nice despite how weird the world is they still have holidays cool.

Including I was thinking after the episode I'm surprised I haven't cherished the concept and going all out despite I like this holiday where I feel I could be myself some sort of freak. Yet I'm just going by my days normally.

So as they discover and being found by Enid's mom. Including they find out her mom is a vampire and her dad is a werewolf. Also yeah I'm kind of explaining the episode. Let me say this and almost left turns out. But seriously Enid's parents are awesome. Including just how they are. Along with the episode being funny. They just seem so cool. Along with being supportive.

But turns out Enid is embarrassed of her parents and wants to be a ninja. Yet because of conflict with these two ghosts who live with them and possess Rad and KO stuff goes crazy but it's because of Enid's ninja skills and powers or stuff that helps end the problem. With Enid's mom sucking the ghosts right out of the guys and Enid's dad having to make sure she spits out the ghosts.

Because of that Enid's parents don't mind her being into that ninja stuff. Including just seriously it's very nice and cute. Then also Enid wants them to come to the next Parents Day which means she's alright with her parents now.

Also this interaction and development was gonna say I suppose but between Rad and Enid. Because they could relate to parents being embarrassing..... honestly I seem very different from others. Mainly not being embarrassed of my parents yet I can see it might be a problem for some people....I forgot if it was embarrassed. I'm just thinking her parents are so cool. Because of all that spooky stuff and other things.

Honestly I liked the episode. It's probably my favorite of the two being shown today. Including now finally seeing the episode I've tried to avoid spoilers for and waited for. It was seriously funny too including I guess when Rad was just seriously reacting to the concept of Enid's parents and other stuff. Including Enid's reactions just a lot of stuff was silly and funny.

But also glad I tried to avoid spoilers. I remember reading the guide of the episode on TV because I forgot last night and went to bed early by mistake the episode being called, "Parents Day" which I thought referred to Enid's parents but didn't think of a actual parents day yet I remember that video I decided not to watch.

Including I was surprised it wasn't like a Halloween episode featuring the holiday in the episode. Because it was promoted like that. I was excited yet it was different. But it was a lot of fun and loved the episode.

Random shit you guys might find funny but personal stuff. But isn't Enid pretty in a witches outfit. Even before the episode a bit yet seeing it more and in motion I like it. Even after wards when she wasn't dressed as a witch anymore. Personal opinions just saying.....she's cute well thought pretty is actually the word I wanna use mostly to be simple.

Now let's talk about, "We Got Hacked" and this in a way kind of teaches something and glad even before this I don't do this. DO NOT CLICK POP UPS including these weird ones I question are they doing that because of possible popularity, pop culture, and other shit.

So KO tries to use some sort of power mop but it messes up the plaza and he asks Dendy to come over. Okay just yawned yet just mentioning first after and funny scene Dendy basically saying, referencing, and revealing Mr. Gar's, Rad's, and Enid's personal problems and weaknesses yawned some time a bit ago. She tries to fix the mop. Yet KO presses a pop up despite Dendy clearly warning him and it being a virus. Along with it being silly mentioning it to trick old people.

But this virus is different, it's affecting costumers, and making them glitching basically scary looking when you think about it. Even before the episode aired. Almost left even again but this episode I tried my best to avoid spoilers too.

Also what was the case with Rad having his okay a friend of mine sent a photo. But what was with Rad getting his legs and arms broken. I thought it was a cramp however it's spelt. Yet seriously it was weird. I'm guessing it was being a parody of probably the idea when a group of survivors try to escape someone gets injured probably.

Also the joke of Rad his face going against the door lol and his face is still seen ha.

Honestly theirs this thing where KO tries to not admit he's the one who clicked the pop up screen. The episode tries to make some what a big deal out of this. Yet it ends with KO admitting it and to reboot the glitches. Yet Dendy just tells him that it was him who doomed the world and I suppose she said he should of not done that. Weird for some stupid reason was expecting this conclusion if KO admits it was his fault then the glitches away just to test him......ha I was being stupid lol.

Yet the reboot idea gives Dendy well the help stop the problem. But the hack pack is at the front of the plaza. So thinking this is the end KO thinks of this idea instead of becoming glitches the last thing they see being the glitches themselves. He wants it to be a friendly face they know and it's a adorable moment. But then they realized and Dendy says their is so many glitches their becoming slow. Even just in time when KO grabs Dendy to get the hack pack and Rad moves his arms seconds later.

Despite a dramatic well some what of a ending. Making it seem like KO is the only one who can do this it shows and I wondered too that Dendy shows up. Or just I mean this idea Dendy being that's not how you press those.

So they reboot the system and all of a sudden Mr. Gar returns. Seriously I was wondering where was he at. Honestly during episodes where the plaza or anything else is in danger in certain episodes he doesn't appear. I keep thinking if he does then he just fixes everything. Yet he could of been infected too. But the glitches could fuck up his powers and even did that for the others I hope so lol ha the appearance of a glitchy Mr. Gar ha.

Yet the ending also has this funny scene because of being touched by glitches before they we're rebooted just...ha that word lol. Because of that KO's face is glitchy and so fucked up. I was expecting a normal pixelated face but seeing it I remember I saw that image before the final shot with all of the characters. Yet seriously that part was funny and everyone's reactions. Then Mr. Gar mentions that Dendy might be able to fix it. Which ha would be reasonable because this show actually does have continuity smiled a few times okay being weird even my nose too.

But honestly I enjoyed both episode. I should see them again which means I will and helps ratings smiled a bit including need to see that first part of, "Parents Day" and just seriously it's not that bad. But my nose and I'm not really sick. I just don't feel like myself. Despite I left early for lunch even if I waited for a bus despite I could walk it was for personal reasons. Such as ticks and shit.

Seriously both episodes were very nice liked them. Wonder what the next episode or two episodes are. Got tags done and missed clicking the 2nd tag but honestly again wanna say seriously again good episodes 4:44 pm I just have Ridiculousness on on mtv1 yeah that channel looked up to right. I'm in my chair sorry.

Yet okay....meh I'm waiting for the time. But I again just me saying stuff over. Okay now is the time good episodes 4:45

Edit 6:32 it just turned to that it was 31 just the show is on ha I fixed witch to vampire because I fucked up seriously lol I even made a new post lol edit same time and ticks last time but my memory sucks ass just smiled a bit. Oh my nose but seriously my memory sucks 6:33 edit same time just why now 6:34