#it was the first of many exhausting days for larries as both had shows

[charcadett]

As an anniversary present Larry’s wife announces she’s taking over as the Medali gym leader so he can have a damn break

Idk if you wanna take this as a request but the idea has been living in my head for days

This was cool to think about! I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but I tried to do this concept while staying accurate to how I read his character. I hope you enjoy! Tbh writing this, Larry did in fact surpass the dog boyfriend label I gave him in my head to what can only be described as “dogguy”.

Anniversary Present Where Larry’s Wife Temporarily Takes Over Medali Gym

- When you first thought of the idea, you were worried about how Geeta would take it. Yes, you are a skilled enough trainer to temporarily take over the Medali Gym, however, given how Larry talks about his boss, you were expecting the worst. Much to your surprise, Geeta is open to the idea. She agrees that Larry needs to take some time off. It’s a bit frustrating how often he shows up to work when he spends half the day pretending to answer emails and the other half actually being helpful. He is, unfortunately, somehow more bullheaded than her. Where she is an unstoppable force, he’s an immovable object. If there’s one person who might be able to get through to him, here’s to hoping it’ll be his wife.

- The hardest part about this is going to be Larry. He’s a workaholic through and through. He’s pretty easy to convince in the beginning. In concept, that would be a very sweet anniversary gift and Gym Matches are exhausting. A day at home wouldn’t hurt. It isn’t until you kiss him on the cheek and head out the door, lovingly telling him to enjoy his day off, that he realizes this may be harder than he thought.

- Larry’s hobbies include eating good food, spending time with you, and feeding the birds. He doesn’t read very often, nor does he particularly like anything on television, though he tries both in an effort to kill time. At one point, he even breaks out a jigsaw puzzle only to give up halfway through. It doesn’t take him long before he’s bored. He’s spent years doing the same routine day in and day out. Go to his office job at the league, battle as Gym Leader, and battle as a member of the Elite Four. He can’t remember the last time he had this much free time. He definitely doesn’t know how to spend it. The final straw is when your favorite show comes on. At first, it reminds him of you and makes him smile. After about fifteen minutes, he’s certain he’s never missed anyone so much before in his life.

- He really doesn’t want to ruin your anniversary gift, but he’s going a bit stir-crazy. One can only stare at the bird feeders for so long before their mind turns to jelly. The thought does cross his mind to go to the office to fill out some paperwork, but he has enough sense to scrap that idea about twenty seconds after it comes. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, Larry will put on some clothes (always his suit, either he’s sitting around in his underwear or he’s wearing that damned suit.) and head to the Treasure Eatery.

- Don’t be mad, he really did try to relax. Relaxing is just incredibly boring. Plus, he misses you, he just wants to check in on you. You don’t have to tell him twice he’s not battling, he doesn’t particularly want to. He will plop down in his regular seat and watch you do his job from afar, continually eating so many fried rice balls you’re surprised he doesn’t get sick. After every match, he’ll offer to buy you a snack, but he never leaves to go back home. Not until you do.

- The best way to get Larry to take a day off is to spend it with him. He’s not one to lay around in bed all day, he likes to keep moving. Like a perpetual motion machine (If you put him on a hamster wheel you could probably generate enough electricity to power all of Paldea) but he likes to cuddle more than that.

[larrylimericks]

11Jun22

Zouis Edition A Zouis exchange left us gassed: A like on Zayn’s high note was cast! And Lou’s mind was blown When Away From Home Sold 17K out mad fast!

Greenbluey Edition Yet more green and blue has us balking. Lou wrapped in green S’s?! We’re squawking. While H made a show Of blue in Glasgow … But maybe that’s just the mold talking.

[songofassandfire]

Kevlly Headcanons

this got a little long so there’s more under the cut

They're both a bit jealous and fairly protective, but Shelly more so than Kevin on both accounts.

Kevin is very aware that Shelly could take down a whole fleet of men if she wanted to, but he still can't help wanting to protect her. He'll often place himself in front of danger out of sheer instinct.

Kevin is typically more emotionally protective of Shelly. He'll dispel nasty rumors or confront people who call her ugly or treat her like a monster. His girlfriend is an angel and if you say otherwise he will get in your face.

Any bullying Kevin experienced at school stopped almost immediately when they started dating out of fear of how Shelly would handle them. One particularly persistent and stupid kid tried it and got his ass beat faster then he could blink.

While Shelly is the more emotional of the two, Kevin is more outwardly affectionate. He loves hugging, holding, and/or kissing her in some way whenever they're together.

It took Shelly a little while to get used to such frequent casual affection, but she loves how special and loved he makes her feel. Even if it's kind of embarrassing when he's so snuggly in public.

A good date for them is just snuggling up together, talking, and sharing music together. Neither of them need to do anything big or exciting to enjoy each other’s company.

One of their favorite places to go together is Whistlin’ Willy’s! Food, drinks, and games are all pretty cheap and there's always fun to be had for them, even if it’s more of a younger kid kinda place.

They get very competitive with each other in multi-player games. Skee ball is an especially deadly game, bystanders are encouraged to stay at least ten feet from them at all times during skee ball.

They usually don't even spend their tickets on anything, just kinda bunch them up in their pockets and forget about them. Kevin may occasionally exchange tickets on cool little plastic toys or candy for his little siblings.

Their relationship was awkward and a bit distant at first. Kevin kept tripping over himself trying to be the textbook "good boyfriend," meanwhile the memory of Larry Feegan's death made Shelly too afraid to let herself get attached to Kevin, which in turn just makes Kevin feel like he simply isn’t trying hard enough. It takes a while, but she does eventually open up to him about it.

Out of the aforementioned desire to be a good boyfriend (and because many, many people have made him feel insecure about his inability to buy stuff for her), Kevin does get little side jobs so he can get her nice things and take her places. (Illegally, since he's too young to work).

This actually continues into adulthood, by his early twenties Kevin is working 65-80 hours a week to support Shelly (and his siblings) while she attends college and works unpaid internships.

Growing up in an environment where his family never had enough, Kevin fears the idea of he and Shelly ever having to worry about money. He experienced first hand how poverty weighs people down, the unrelenting struggle and stress of it all turning people into the worst version of themselves. He doesn’t want that to happen to them.

Kevin will say he wants to show Shelly that he’s good enough for her, but she already believes that. It’s more to prove to himself that he deserves her.

Shelly knows why he’s doing this, and genuinely appreciates all the hard work he does every day. But, she can see how working so much is destroying him physically and mentally. They hardly see each other anymore and whenever they do, Kevin’s always too exhausted to do more than sleep.

This goes on for a few years, and actually drives a bit of a wedge between them. Many arguments were had over this. Eventually this gets resolved and Kevin agrees to stop working himself to death and the two spend more time together and things get better and it’s all happy and shit but honestly idk how I plan on solving that plot thread, so.

The Marshes on Kevin:

Randy is happy that Shelly is happy with somebody (especially after he, to put it lightly, ruined things with her last boyfriend). On the other hand, he fully thinks Kevin is a loser and that Shelly deserves better, a fact that he's not as subtle about as he thinks he is. I’m on the fence on whether he’d actually try to break them up/try to set Shelly up with someone else all out of a misguided attempt to do what he believes is “best” for Shelly, or if he’d just seethe but stay out of it. Depends on what’s funnier to me idk

He warms up to Kevin a little bit after he beats Jimbo in a drinking contest, and warms up to him a lot more when he becomes a part time delivery boy for Tegridy Farms. Once Kevin is a part of the business he starts to see him more as a dependable young man.

Kevin is respectful towards Randy for the most part, though it's mostly because the man kinda freaks him out. He's heard stories about Randy, both from Shelly and simply around town, and Kevin simply doesn't want to push the man too far. As a delivery boy, he thinks Randy’s a pretty fair boss, he lets him keep all of his tips so that’s nice.

Sharon thinks the two of them are just adorable together. She loves how happy he makes Shelly and will always offer to let him stay for dinner or make him a snack or something. She’d be lying if she didn’t also think he’s kind of a loser, though she’s better at hiding that fact than Randy is. She understands Kevin’s situation isn’t the best and tries to keep that in mind as much as possible.

Kevin likes Mrs. Marsh, and thinks she’s really nice, though he still watches his step because he doesn’t want to do/say something disrespectful and make her not like him. Always with the soft “please”s and “yes ma’am”s around her.

Stan has become a bit of a master at staying the fuck out of Shelly’s business, and this isn’t much of an exception. Most of the time he honestly forgets that Kenny even has a brother so it’s pretty easy to just disconnect Shelly’s boyfriend from his own friend. Kevin comes over a considerable amount, and sometimes he’s just hanging out or playing some video game in the living room, he and Stan will make small talk from time to time. Overall the two of them don’t really interact, so Stan’s opinion is more or less “yeah that guy’s alright.”

Insecurity is a big thing with Shelly. She knows how ridiculous it is but there’s this underlying worry in her that if Kevin starts talking to Stan more then he’ll start to prefer her turd brother over her, just like everybody else does. So ordinarily when she sees them talking she’ll kinda drag Kevin away and loudly tell Stan to “stay away from my boyfriend, turd!”

Kevin knows Stan from either Kenny’s occasional stories about his friends or Shelly’s angry rants about her family. This gives him kind of a mixed perception of Stan, but he doesn’t really wanna bother with figuring the kid out for himself. From what he can tell Stan’s an alright kid, and he’s just gonna leave it at that.

The Mccormicks on Shelly:

Stuart’s real proud of his son for getting himself a little girlfriend, even if he doesn’t really interact with her very much. He prefers to give the two of them space whenever Shelly comes over, but from what he can tell the two of them are a good match and that’s good enough for him.

Shelly has heard more than a few angry rants from Kevin about Stuart and Carol and thus has a very negative opinion on the both of them. She knows one of these days she might just up and say so, and she keeps interaction with them limited for that very reason. Luckily, they tend to leave her and Kevin to their own devices when she comes over.

Carol is just so happy that Kevin is dating such a nice girl, and Shelly has been nothing but a positive influence on her baby boy. She and Sharon gush and give each other details all the time

Essentially what I said earlier, although Carol does talk to Shelly every so often. Just small talk, asking about how she’s doing at school and at home. It’s normally pretty brief and Carol let’s the two of them get back to their little date soon enough.

Kenny is very wary about the idea of Shelly dating Kevin at first. He usually tries to stay out of Kevin’s business most of the time but he can’t help but be like “... really? Shelly?” He hears all the horrible shit she’s done to Stan and Kevin’s such a big dumb oaf that Kenny can’t help but feel… the slightest bit worried, so he kinda makes a point to observe whenever Shelly comes over. As time goes on and he sees that their relationship is generally fine, he stops worrying about it. He still doesn’t like Shelly very much, and it’s really weird that she’s dating his brother, but he learns to live with it.

Shelly and Kenny tend to not interact with each other and that is totally fine by her. She’s seen enough of that turd when Stan brings his dumb friends over, she doesn’t need to see any more. Kevin only occasionally brings up Kenny, and it’s generally positive, but Shelly still doesn’t feel the need to build any kind of relationship here. They are both perfectly content avoiding each other entirely.

With a stark lack of older sister figures in her life, Karen is drawn to Shelly pretty much the instant she meets her. If Kevin brings Shelly over, Karen will almost always want to hang out with them. Shelly’s admittedly soft on Karen so she doesn’t really know Shelly as this big rude bully like a lot of other kids do. She just thinks she’s cool and good at video games and helps her with homework every now and then.

Shelly is kind of… uneasy and awkward around Karen. She’s not used to being looked up to or admired in any sense, and she’s never had a sister so she doesn’t know what to do when this little turd sort of adopts her as one. Her only experience in being a sister is towards Stan and that’s, um, not a very suitable attitude toward her boyfriend’s littlest sib. She tries to avoid it, but Karen just latches herself onto the two of them whenever they hang out so that doesn’t work. Eventually being around the little turd gets easier and she grows to really like Karen.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Manta Ray 101 Mitchell's first Corvette creation came in 1959, a rebodied 1957 SS test mule originally built by Duntov. This was the first embodiment of Mitchell's oceanic inspired Corvettes, created for SCCA competition, which Bill dubbed the Sting Ray. The Sting Ray was not only a strong inspiration behind the second generation Corvette, but it was the first in a line of Mitchell's conceptual ideas that would eventually lay the foundation for what would be Mitchell's greatest achievement, the Manta Ray. The Manta Ray concept debuted at the New York International Auto Show in 1965, known then as the Mako Shark I (a non-running model with the outside side pipes rising up into the front fenders).

Mitchell and Duntov disagreed on the on the design at first. Duntov felt cokebottle/narrow waist imposed limitations on the passenger pod. One day at the proving grounds, he was driving the new car when there was a tire failure. Zora held it up against the wall until he ground the fenders off right down to the door line and wheels. By the time it got down this far, the car had stopped. After that, he changed his mind about the utility of the wider fender area. Initial high speed tests revealed that the car was unstable at high speeds. The nose was too low, the front fenders were too high and obstructed the drivers visibility. Rear visibility was next to nothing and the overall 'lift' of the car at speed was unacceptable. Ref. There were two primary versions of the Makos. Mako Shark I, Mako Shark II and the Manta Ray. The three basic versions had many re-paints and minor changes over the years. The were several core design elements common to both Mako's. The basic design included a chopped roof, hinged roof panel, which raised to permit easier entry (flip top), sharp-edged fender lines, highly styled front clip (tilt front end), hood bulge and upswept tail. Gadgets on the cars included prism-type periscope rearview mirror, pop-up brake flaps, James Bond retractable bumpers, and louvered rear window. Features included finned knock-off aluminum wheels, several remote control switches, speakers in the headrests, and a state of the art interior (molded vinyl for wrap-around feel) with a digital readout for the speedometer & fuel gauge (most of the informational gauges were placed on the passenger side of the instrument pod, while only the speedo and tach were placed on the driver's side). In addition to the gauges, there was also a system of warning lights for all major fluid levels and another series of lights to warn of open doors and the like. In Mako Shark I and II, the seats were fixed and the accelerator/brake pedals moved on a one-piece control board. The Mako Shark II, first shown at the Paris Auto Salon in October 1965, was a running model with more conventional rear-exiting exhaust system. The exposed ends of the exhaust were quite highly styled in a boxed and finned arrangement much like the SS Racer. The mako Shark II also featured a retractable rear spoiler, and an extendable rear bumper, whereas the Manta Ray introduced an extended rear "boat-tail" fascia and side pipes which were available for the 1969 Corvettes. The Mako Shark II made use of a 427 Mark IV Big Block mated to a turbohydromatic three-speed automatic transmission.

The Manta Ray (unveiled in 1969), was a slightly redesigned Mako Shark II concept released to tour the show circuit shortly after the launch of the C3 Corvette. The Manta Ray introduced an all-aluminum 430hp ZL-1 V8, which would be an option on the 1969 C3 Corvette.

When the car was converted to Manta Ray, the louvered window concept was dropped in favour of the more conventional sugar-scoop arrangement. The original steering wheel, a small rectangular piece with controls for turn signals and transmission built-in, was changed to a more conventional wheel with the main controls moved to stalks o the steering column (by the Paris show). All Makos utilized the blue to white color scheme inspired by an actual mako shark that was Mitchell's prized catch from an earlier fishing excursion. Just as Mitchell's '59 Sting Ray race car & original '61 Mako Shark concept had a strong influence on the second generation Corvette, the Mako Shark II and Manta Ray concepts left an indelible mark on the third generation Corvette, as well as an influence on the Corvettes of today.

[Ref.: Mako Shark II and Manta Ray: Interview with Larry Shinoda © Wayne Ellwood, 1995]

[bloodsweatandpotato]

Whumpay day 5

Collapse/Keeps getting back up

Fandom: DHMIS

Characters: Robin (Duck guy), Manny (Yellow guy), Harry (Red guy)

Tw: None

Summary: Robbin and Manny have the flu. Harry tried to shield them from the teachers, take care of them, and let them rest, but everyone has a breaking point. I’ve never done a fic like this before so... sorry if I just word vomited garbage at you. This is just self indulgent fluff cause I’ve been a stressed potato. Don’t hate me.

Harry closed his eyes, pinching his forehead in an attempt to soothe his blossoming migraine. He sniffed, before prying his eyes open and moving to grab a mug from the cupboard.

As the clock often reminded him, ‘there’s a time and a place for mucking about.’ This was not one of those times. The whistle of the kettle sliced through his head, taking an ice pick to the left side of his forehead. He had had migraines before, but this was just adding insult to injury.

He lowered his hand from his temple, reaching out to pour the hot water into Robin’s favorite mug. It was brown with little gold and green swirls, and Robin was a bit territorial over it. It was really quite funny watching Robin squawk indignantly whenever Harry or Many made the mistake of being seen with the cup.

Harry splashed some water onto the counter, staring down blearily at his shaking hands. He should really clean that up... it could drip onto the floor and make it slippery. He wouldn’t want Robin or Manny to slip. They already had the flu. Slipping and falling wouldn’t help. Then he would have to bandage them up. And Manny would pick at his bandages. He always did that. He picked at things, and that wouldn’t be good...

Harry opened the cupboard again and riffled around for a tea bag. He finally found one he deemed suitable for Robin (he really was quite picky), and smiled in a tired show of triumph.

Harry grabbed the tea bag, holding it up and staring at it for longer than was probably necessary.

He dropped it on the counter, next to the puddle, before picking up the half full mug of hot water and making his way out of the kitchen.

He stumbled down the hall, before realizing he was faced with the daunting task of scaling the stairs. Harry coughed, jostling the mug just enough that a few more drops of water splashed on the floor.

He looked down at his feet in silent resignation, before sitting down on the floor to contemplate his options. He could either climb the stairs, or just sit down here at the bottom. Laying down at the bottom of the stairs and not moving for the next week sounded like a good option, but then who would take care of Manny and Robin?

Manny was only a little kid, and he couldn’t possibly leave Robin to take care of the house by himself. Robin had the flu. No. Harry was sure of it by now. Scaling the stairs and delivering Robin his tea was the only option.

He wondered if Manny was done with his coloring book yet. Maybe Harry should get him another one from the toy basket, just to be safe. Yes. He wouldn’t want Manny getting bored in bed. Robin said he wasn’t bored, but maybe Harry should bring him a coloring book as well. Or maybe just a book. Robin liked books.

Harry stood up, leaning onto the wall as his vision greyed. He blinked it off, grimacing at the fresh wave of migraine-induced nausea. He took a few steps towards the toy basket, reached down

-he sat up from laying sprawled on the ground, coloring book grasped tightly in his hand. That was odd, he hadn’t remembered laying down. Never mind. He needed to get the coloring book to Manny. Harry stood up, vision once again going fuzzy.

He needed to get Manny his coloring book. And Robin needed a book too. He stumbled over to the bookcase. What book would Robin want?

Robin was smart. He would want a smart book. Harry tried to read the titles, but his vision was blurry and swaying, and he was sure if he tried to read another word his head would explode. Smart books were big, right? Harry grabbed the thickest book he could find.

It was big and blue. Robin would like that book. It was heavy. Harry wasn’t sure if he had read this book before, but he was sure books weren’t supposed to be that heavy.

Never mind that. He needed to get the book to Robin, and the coloring book to Manny, and Robin would want tea as well. He always seemed to want tea when he was reading.

Harry made his way back to the stairs. He stopped to lean against the wall, as one does when carrying a giant, heavy book. He sniffed, blinking slowly before looking down at his feet. A mug sat there next to his feet, still steaming.

Oh. Tea. Tea for Robin. Yes. That was a good thing. He should thank the stairs sometime.

“Thanks stairs” He mumbled. Where the stairs alive? That wouldn’t be the strangest thing that has happened. The notebook was alive, and the clock, and a bunch of other objects he didn’t have enough mental energy to mention. The stairs might be too.

Harry hoped the stairs wouldn’t come alive. He had been taking the brunt of this week’s “lessons”. It was the least he could do with Manny and Robin sick in bed. Clay sculpting with Paige, time management with Tony, he was sure something happened with Larry, but he wasn’t sure. Every day seemed to run together.

He tucked the giant blue book under one arm, along with the coloring book for Manny. He picked up the mug in the other hand, rumpled sleeves splashed with a bit of the liquid as he straightened.

By the time Harry had made it halfway up the stairs, he was ready to sit down and sleep. He was ready to sleep for a very long time and not wake up until Manny and Robin were better.

But he kept climbing. He was the only person in the house who wasn’t sick, and it was his duty as both the oldest and the most firm of health to take care of his friends.

He reached the top of the stairs after what seemed like hours.

Harry glanced around with unfocused eyes, before slumping against the wall and sliding into a siting position. That had been exhausting. Harry wondered how many stairs there were on the staircase. There had to be at least a hundred.

He turned back to look at the staircase, glazed eyes roaming over the steps. He nodded in silent agreement. Definitely a hundred, and all moving. It was a wonder he had even managed to make it up the staircase. He wondered how anybody would build stairways that moved like that. Maybe it was the same way they made elevators.

It would be nice to have an elevator. Then he could just sit down and let it do the work for him.

Speaking of work, he needed to get the tea to Robin.

Harry pushed himself to his feet, discarding the books. He would pick those up later. Manny and Robin would be thrilled to see them.

His bare feet dragged against the floor as he stumbled towards Robin’s bedroom door. He reached out with a shaking hand, the doorknob shifting at the last moment so that his hand hit the door with a dull thud. Harry frowned, before trying again.

It opened this time.

Harry stepped in, tripping over the edge of the rug and landing face first in a heap on the floor, right in front of Robin’s bed.

“Harry!” Robin screeched, blankets twisting as he tried to drag himself out of bed. “Are you alright!? What’s going on!?”

“Hi Robin.” Harry smiled, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I brought you tea.”

“Tea?!” Robin still seemed indignant, but had ceased his flailing.

“Mhm. Here y’ go...” Harry picked up the mug, which (astonishingly), still had some liquid in it. He offered it to Robin, who reached down off the side of the bed to grab it.

Robin looked down at the cup, face twisting into a worried frown the longer he stared.

“This is warm water...”

“Hmm.” Harry hummed in what could be classified as agreement, before pushing himself up again. He coughed.

“Harry?”

“One second. I’mma go get you something.”

Harry turned and made his way to the door, stopping to to grab the doorway for support. His head was really spinny. Odd. He couldn’t be sick. Manny and Robin were sick, not him. Him being sick just wouldn’t make sense.

He grabbed the giant book (which had seemed to have grown even heavier since the last time he held it), and toted it into Robin’s room. Unable to hold it up anymore, Harry pushed it into Robin’s arms, before collapsing against the bed.

Robin frowned deeper, looking confused. “Historical Thesaurus of The Oxford English Dictionary volumes I and II?”

Harry gave a slight nod, before slumping over, eyes rolled back and half lidded.

###

“Harry? Are you awake?” Robin’s voice seemed to originate from all around Harry. Of course he was awake, with Robin practically shouting in his ears like that.

Harry opened his eyes. “Yes.”

Robin seemed relived. “Good. I was getting worried.”

Robin held something in front of Harry’s face. Harry reached out and grabbed it, slightly surprised at how steady his hand was. It was cool and smooth in his hands, a glass of water. Harry lifted the glass of water to his lips and drank it all in one gulp.

“You were asleep for a long time.” Manny’s voice commented. Oh, Manny was there. Harry lowered the glass and looked over at Manny, who was sitting at the foot of the bed. Oh. He was in Robin’s bed. Robin’s bed? That was odd. Robin should be in this bed...

“You were to heavy for me to carry.” Robbin said, seemingly sensing Harry’s confusion. “You had a fever of over 40 degrees!” Robin exclaimed, crossing his arms. “But it’s gone down some now.”

“Oh.” Harry murmured. He paused, before continuing. “Are you two alright?”

Robin’s frown softened. “We’re fine, while you were in and out for two days our fevers broke.”

“Oh.” Harry said again. He closed his eyes.

Manny reached out to poke Harry’s nose. “Are you going to sleep again?”

Harry didn’t say anything, but his silence was answer enough.

Robin gave a small smile. “Come on Manny, let’s go color while Harry sleeps some more.”

[the-labyrinth-of-me]

In 2006, Larry Gelbart wrote fictional interviews in the style of the episode "The Interview" (S3E25) for Trapper, Henry and Flagg. You can find them here: https://www.mash4077tv.com/2009/09/larry-gelbart-lost-the-interview-interviews/

And I find the serious tone of them, for characters who were obviously created in a comedic way, very interesting and insightful, showing us a non-existent or barely shown side of them.

I especially love these two pieces of Henry's interview:

I've thought about this quite a lot. Henry "bumbling dad" Blake, most of the times with a smile on his face (in the first season at least). He never shows how much he actually suffers from the sitch he's been thrown into, from the pressure, the exhaustion, the responsibility, because he's the comic relief. But what if he just forces himself to smile in front of his people in order to keep morale up on some days, because he knows he can't afford to walk around depressed, as their leader? Of course it doesn't work every time. He makes those jokes and forces himself to keep going. Can you imagine him sitting alone in his tent and cracking under the pressure? Under Frank and Margaret trying to remove him from command? Under all of those regular army generals telling him off whenever he wants something? Under being separated from his family? Under patching together kids who are young enough to be his sons? Under trying to do a job he never learnt a single thing about (being a commander in the army)? Because I can. Cheers, Henry. 🥃

Also T H I S !!

I have a hc that he really tried in the beginning, and then had to learn the hard way that the higher-ups simply don't care. You need another batch of hydrocortisone? Your problem, not ours! What, you need another surgeon because the one you got is more a danger to people than helpful? Newsflash, colonel - we don't have any surgeons to send you. Learn how to function with less sleep. Being told how to do your job by people who don't know a thing about your job is the most relatable thing, isn't it? So Henry's just like 🤷🏼 at some point. What the hell, I just send my guys to some black marketeer then. Thanks for nothing, General. Henry's the punching bag for both the higher-ups and his unit who give him shit for things he can't change (not his fault they put him in this position) and tbh I really feel sorry for him regarding this. Ever noticed that he becomes increasingly sarcastic? It's not that he gives up, he simply stops caring at some point. After being repeatedly let down, who wouldn't?

Once I have the time, I'll put up a more detailed analysis bc I have many feelings about seeing Henry in a more serious way

[oneunexpected]

Gregor+friendship headcanon, and Hamnet+sad headcanon 👀😭💕

This got REEEEEALLY long.

Gregor + friendship headcanon:

-He doesn’t know what to do about Larry and Angelina when he gets back to the surface.

-the lie his family settles on is Lyme disease: they say both Gregor and his dad contracted it while camping back when the “miscommunication” between his mom and dad occurred (read: the first time Gregor and Boots fell), and it’s had chronic implications for the both of them.

-it makes it easier to explain why they decide to move in with his uncle in Virginia, too.

-he wants so badly to tell the truth. SO badly. But he’s unwilling, because if they believed him... what then? What do you do when your 12-year-old friend disappears and comes back a war veteran? And even then, what if they got too curious and sought out to find the Underland? Gregor can’t risk it.

-even though he figures it’s for the best, he always regrets it a little.

-after Gregor moves, they play video games together online. It’s a good way to stay in touch. That way, they spend some time together virtually, and any discussion outside of game strategy is relegated to the simple catch-up stuff: what projects they’re up to in school, how their families are doing, wild rumors they’ve heard. It helps everything feel a little more normal for Gregor.

-when he met Larry and Angelina, it was back when he was young enough that kids just made friends with whoever. By the time he gets to Virginia, though, friendships are made a lot more through clubs and mutual interests. There are plenty of random people who reach out to him when he first moves, though, concerned about the new kid, wanting to make sure he felt welcome. They’re all nice. Some of the friendships stick, some don’t. He fits in well enough with the band kids, though band’s inherently clique-y format makes it hard to break in at first. By high school, the scars on his legs are flat enough that he joins the cross country and track teams. Sometimes people question why he always wears long sleeve t-shirts, even in the sweltering heat, but they never push him past his generic excuses. He also joins the school robotics team. Between the three, he has lots of friends across the school.

-he’s not particularly close with many, though. His closest friends are a clarinet player, one of his track relay teammates, and a kid who was always cracking jokes in biology when they were stressed about upcoming tests.

-everyone knows there’s something a little off, but none of his friends mind that much. He’s kind, he’s clever, he’s a great sax player, he’s fast, and once again, he’s really kind—so who cares if he’s mysterious as hell.

-that changes when he loses control of raging and breaks a guy’s nose in the hallway during his 8th grade year. His fairly large circle of somewhat shallow friendships shrinks significantly—but those he’s closest to stay loyal, and they do their part to make sure he’s not ostracized. “Honestly, man, he had it coming,” says his friend from bio.

-it all makes things a little easier for Gregor. There’s still so much he’s healing from. There’s still so much that limits him. There’s still so much he misses, both in New York and the Underland. And it can be so alienating. But when he’s playing in a jazz ensemble, or when he’s at someone’s birthday party, or when he’s crammed into a car with some cross country buddies headed to get some fast food after a particularly exhausting practice—it’s all a little easier.

-sometimes, though, even the good moments hurt when he remembers just how different their lives are from his.

-he visits Larry and Angelina the summer before his senior year, and even though their video game shenanigans are few and far between by then, he’s relieved by how easy it is to be around them. They cover lost ground fast, fueled by their excitement to see one another. Angelina’s working as a stagehand on Broadway for the summer. Larry’s mom just bought him a new drawing tablet and he shows Gregor what he’s been working on. They spend hours just catching up and laughing. They’ve grown apart, sure, but the affection remains.

Hamnet + sad headcanon

Nothing I could headcanon would be sadder than actual canon, so I hope it’s alright if I take an alternate approach here:

-When he disappears, nobody asks Susannah how she’s doing that much.

-Maybe they think she’s removed from it, sequestered away in the Fount. Maybe her physical distance just puts her out of sight, out of mind.

-Maybe they think she’s too immersed in Howard and Stellovet and the twins on their way to really feel it.

-Maybe it’s because Judith and Hamnet were just so close. For Judith, it’s like losing a part of herself. “He was a part of me, too,” she sobs to York one night.

-Maybe, just maybe, it’s because she’s the eldest: she’s supposed to be the strong one, the caretaker, the first to sacrifice.

-Judith knows she has to stay strong. She is a queen. Her weakness is her people’s weakness, and losing their best commander is a vulnerability enough in itself.

-but she’s so angry, angry at her husband and her mother for organizing the attack, angry at her father and herself for not doing anything about it, angry at Hamnet for leaving her, oh, she’s furious at him.

-it doesn’t take long to strip the anger back. When you do, there is only the grief.

-when the baby is sleeping, when her husband is sleeping, she slips down into the abandoned nursery where she and Hamnet and the others her age were once cared for and wails.

-after a few weeks, she visits Susannah. They cling to each other in Susannah’s drawing room until the early hours of the morning, at first in silence, until Judith finally says, “I think I was too passive.” Susannah wants to laugh—everyone always said she was the passive one of the three.

-after that, it’s like a dam has broken. (Ooh, poor choice of words.) Susannah tells stories of when the twins were really little. There’s the time when Susannah was trying to feed baby Judith mashed sweet potatoes and Judith bit her, which had their mother in stitches of laughter even as she tried to scold Judith, the time four-year-old Hamnet refused to leave Susannah’s side during a festival because he was afraid of the people in costumes roaming about... there are many stories. Judith chimes in with her own. They laugh and cry and laugh and cry.

-the elephant in the room is the injustice of the attack itself. Neither one of them knows how to navigate it, but it fuels their confusion and it fuels their grief.

-Their father doesn’t know how to navigate it, either.

-Vikus knows he is culpable. It’s his job to make sure Regalians stay true to their word. It’s his job to balance out Solovet’s tendencies. It’s his job to look out for his children’s well-being. He’s failed. He’s complicit. And his son is gone.

-he knows, on some level, that the part of him that’s in Hamnet is what drove his son to leave. It’s what drove him insane in the first place, and it’s the reason he tried to save the drowning gnawers that day, too. Vikus doesn’t know how to sit with that knowledge. If his son was more like Solovet, maybe he would have lived.

-it wasn’t an easy birth. Solovet lost way too much blood and the twins were just so small when they were born. Even then, when her mind was clouded by hypovolemic shock, she couldn’t stand to see the doctors whisking them away. When she came to, someone had laid the twins in her arms, where they slept peacefully. Vikus beamed at her from a corner of the room. She was so, so proud.

-she never knew fear quite like she did when Mareth brought Hamnet home and he couldn’t recognize any of them. Couldn’t even speak. She never let on how scared she was, of course, but she felt it nonetheless. She was disappointed, too.

-when they received word Hamnet was missing, Solovet was immediately giving orders. “Check every route out from the city. Locate and interrogate every guard on duty last night. Send word to the Fount and Troy.” Find him.

-she knew they wouldn’t. He was too clever for that. As she goes to sleep that night, there’s a cold weight pressing in on her sternum. He could have been great, she thinks. He was so close.

Thanks for the ask! Headcanon meme found here.

[haxorus-imp]

Human Perspective - Reader LBP fic

Gender neutral Reader - No romance - Little Big Planet - No dialogue 

A human is lost in the imagisphere and is struggling to cope with their new surroundings. AO3 for those that prefer to read it there - > https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741977

You really don’t remember how you arrived here in this strange place. One moment you were resting peacefully, the next thing you know, you were being woken up by a small little humanoid fabric creature.

Once your eyes focused, you had gotten startled upright from the presence of the being, which was obviously understandable. In a hurry, you scoot away from the being and frantically look around. Despite just waking up, it took mere moments for you to realize that something was completely off about the land you were in...let alone how you got there. You were left completely dumbfounded. The small little humanoid seemed a bit worried about you, despite just meeting you.

Flustered, your confusion only grew when you tried to ask the little creature where you were and it simply spoke in sign language. Which you didn’t understand. Seeing your expression of complete loss, the little being thought for a moment before it decided to wave at you in a ‘follow me’ motion as they turned and waddled away. Still lost and confused, you really didn’t have a choice.

You picked yourself up and followed the little being through some garden-like areas before the landscape began to change and buildings made out of wood and cardboard slowly appeared. While on the walk over to who-knows-where, you decided to slightly distract yourself with looking around at your surroundings.

It was strange, as it almost felt like you were back home on Earth. However, this was far from the case. An example of your strange predicament lies in the horizon and around yourself. It was all made of fabric...just like the ground was...with an exception of other things. Like the cardboard buildings and creatures that dwelled nearby, as well as the fabric clouds that floated on by. The only thing that could be deemed ‘normal’ around here, at least to you, was the water that flowed in the rivers under the bridges you two passed by. Everything was strangely made to look like projects of arts and crafts.

Not even the locals were exempted from this rule. As the little creature that was leading you somewhere was made entirely of knitted wool. I just left you puzzled and completely stumped at where you even were.

But hopefully this little biped would be able to provide some answers. Your first set of strange contacts was with a small group that the little sack...thing...person...was leading you towards. Your approach didn’t go unnoticed. Once you and the little creature arrived, the three figures were giving you wary glances. But the little sackperson stepped forward and began to sign to them. It was quite a surprise to learn that these larger beings seemed to be British...despite this place not looking like Earth. A bit of back and forth later and you finally managed to introduce yourself and explain your situation to the three larger beings. In which, they introduced themselves to you as well.

There was Larry Da Vinci, an elderly individual with a paper beard and cardboard 3D glasses, who seemed to be rather forgetful, as it took him a moment to remember his own name before the bun-having blonde next to him spoke up.

Her name was Victoria, who had doll-like features and a steampunk-inspired body. She also seemed to be very polite too. Despite being an older female, her and Da Vinci even seemed to be a thing. If the sweet-based names he kept calling her had anything to say for it.

Then there was a rather depressed-looking individual named Clive, who was a man with an eraser for a body and a cyan desk calendar for a head, which was just to name a few things that caught your eye about him. It was just so strange to see paperclips merely sticking to a body without an anchor. But he was still polite none-the-less, even if he wasn’t as enthusiastic as Larry or Victoria.

As for yourself? Well, you were a human. Made of flesh and blood, unlike the natives of this realm you happened to get lost in. It wasn’t hard to take notice of how the others would look at you strangely from time to time.

Not only just because you showed up out of nowhere, but because your appearance just seemed...as that Ginger-Haired prideful loudmouth ‘Avalon’ would put it - “Highly suspicious-looking”. You didn’t think you looked that bad...or creepy. So, you just played down their doubts by just explaining that you're from very far away and that you were lost. It took a bit of convincing from Sackthing to see if Larry had any leads on what to do.

Many of them acted like they had never seen a human before and it wasn’t hard to see why. I mean, they even thought you looked ill and took you to an apple-headed nurse, who was strangely in a birdcage of all things, named Eve to have a look at you. She apparently tried to find your ‘stitching’, which took you awhile to explain that you weren’t born with ‘stitching’. She seemed completely lost with your explanation on a normal human body and she did some typical tests. Took your temperature, tested your reflexes, and gave you a few psychological tests. All came back okay, showing that you were in fact a perfectly normal human being. Even if she seemed slightly disappointed. The rest of the time was spent visiting the other creators once word got around that a unique stranger was visiting Craftworld from ‘very far away’. Despite meeting a fair chunk of them within the first few hours.

It was most likely Avalon who let the cat out of the bag, the dude probably can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. If your first encounter with him had anything to say about it. Dude even had the nerve to call you a ‘rubbery-looking tall weirdo’.

Thankfully, Larry chewed him out for his rudeness before you could. So one by one, you met the creator curators and visited their homelands with Larry as your guide, since sackthing had other duties to attend to at the time.

It was quite an exhausting trip. Thankfully most of the realms could be accessed by rocketships that were provided by Larry Da Vinci. Yes, rocketships. Made out of cardboard...with a jet attached to them.

You didn’t understand how they worked, so you pretty much just went with it and didn’t ask any questions. Each encounter was as unique as they came as you headed off to the other parts of Craftworld with Larry. Your first encounter was with the lovely baker you met before, Victoria. She was very interesting to say the least, having a lab and bakery hybrid that she called home. She explored the possibilities of pastries and science. A strange combination. She even tried to offer you some of her baked goods, which you sadly discovered you couldn’t eat. At all . You just couldn’t force yourself to eat a literal SPONGE cake, so you had to turn her down gently but gratefully thanked her for the offer anyway. After that was Clive, the same depressed individual from earlier. You eventually discover that  he has lived in a factory for most of his life and just knows the day in and day out of being at work constantly. No wonder the poor sap was so blue. He obviously needed a long vacation. After a typical meet and greet, you toured the factory he called home and had a lot of fun watching how things operated while Clive rambled on and on about work and various activities he would perform around the factory. You even got to meet the cute little sackbots while you were there. Which was a pleasant experience in itself! After that was Eve’s Asylum where she and Professor Higginbottom were located. You met Higginbottom at the Asylum. Which was probably the strangest thing you have ever experienced...aside from being lost in this fabric dimension. He seemed like someone who got into the bong and never came out. Though, listening to him talk was quite entertaining. Even if you didn’t understand anything that came from his mouth. Eve was present there as well. Despite the underwhelming encounter from earlier, Eve was still elated to observe you and see how you were coping.  She apparently ran the asylum that was filled with beautiful flora, magical trees, and crazy people. Which wasn’t a surprise, but you were just happy that they were under the care of someone as loving as Eve. Even if she got a bit frustrated that she couldn’t make heads or tails about your ‘strange biology predicament’. Even with an unnecessary ‘second analysis’. Then finally, there was Avalon. The dude was about as loud and as arrogant as they came.

However, he pushed it to a point where he made it endearing rather than annoying, but your traveling companion could beg to differ. It seemed that Larry and Avalon had a lot of disagreements on who was the leader of “The Alliance”. Whatever that was. Both of them mixed like oil and vinegar, like broccoli and pizza, like boomers and millennials...it was honestly kinda funny to watch them bicker. However, you haven’t forgotten that rude comment he made about you. So you were still on the fence with him. Still, Avalonia was a wonderful place to visit. Looking at all of the strange gadgets that were made, the types of vehicles, and the sheer ethereal aura that the place radiated...Avalon really did have a strong reason to flex after all.

But as fun as it was to visit these Curators, you still needed to find your way home. Plus, you had to keep moving if you were going to be able to find anything to eat.

I mean, you have been offered food on numerous occasions while on your trip, however it wasn’t anything you could actually eat. ‘Sponge’ cakes, icing that was too sweet, jam that was too sticky, crackers that were made of cardboard, cookies made out of paper, fruit made out of fabric or plastic… It was all fake...and you were starting to starve.

Your lack of eating also seemed to worry Larry, but you feigned being fine. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really eaten in days. It was wearing down on you pretty bad at this point. Despite your lie, Larry seemed to still be lost on what to do with you. You honestly couldn’t blame him though. You were quite an enigma. Then, Larry was reminded of something and had explained that he was going to go to a place called Bunkum to attend a session in a place called Popit Academy and graciously offered if you wanted to visit while he was participating. At that time, you really didn’t know that you could explore other planets...but this was a strange new universe with strange new ways. So what could possibly go wrong?

So, from one planet made of patches to one with strange gadgets on it, you arrive at a place called “Needlepoint Peaks”.

Which was filled with crisp mountain air and little floating objects that harassed you at every angle. It was quite frustrating, as they would cling to you and you would have to constantly shake them loose. It seemed to amuse Larry to the point of chuckling as you both headed down the mountain together. While on the way, you even decided to take a bite out of the crackers that were sticking out of the ground. Which turned out to be a big mistake.

The ‘treat’ was about as stale as they come. It was hard to chew and it had the lingering scent of cardboard and dust. You promptly spat it out and coughed violently while Larry looked at you like you had lost your marbles.

Despite everything looking tasty, it was all dried and stale, nothing more than deceptive decorations for your ever growing hunger that gnawed away at you from your insides. You could only sigh helplessly as you passed the deceptive goodies and just focused on following Larry to the next destination. Once down from the mountain, both of you arrived at a place called ‘Stitchem Manor’, which seemed to be occupied by two lightbulbs and a monster. The family greeted Larry and seemed to notice you, despite you attempting to hide your taller figure behind the Elder Curator. The smaller lightbulb seemed to be very eager to meet you, as he strode up and waved and said a rather friendly hello. You timidly come out of hiding and meet up with him too. Returning the greeting politely. The lightbulb seems to happily chitter about as you stare at him. He then graciously introduces you to his father, a clear idol in his eyes, and his mother. Who wasn’t a monster. She just looked scary as hell.

You politely greet them in return and Larry explains your situation to the family. It seemed that Larry had decided to see if you could visit with the Pud family, which was a rather strange name, until he was through with his lessons at the popit academy. Seeing if one of them was available to show you around Bunkum until he came back later. You almost rolled your eyes at the thought of needing a guide or babysitter, but you didn’t know this place. So you really should stick with someone until you understand the ropes. The younger-looking lightbulb, who was named Newton, proudly volunteers to show you around Bunkum. A desire to give his ‘new strange-looking chum the best tour of Bunkum they have ever experienced’. So he says. Apparently, his parents were both worried about his proposal. Not because of you, but apparently Newton had caused a heap of trouble for the natives of Bunkum and was still in too-hot water because of it. Despite making peace with most of the locals and trying to clear his name from the titan incident...whatever that was. It sounds bad just by the name alone.

However, after enough begging, his parents gave in and decided to allow him to show you around Bunkum. Satisfied with the ordeal, Larry had headed off and Newton’s parents headed back inside the large manor.

Once alone, Newton had grabbed your hand before suddenly letting go in surprise. When questioned, he just stared and made a comment about how your ‘knitting’ felt strange against his hands. You just merely shrugged and walked ahead, Newton quickly taking the lead again as he rambled on and on about stuff to do while you were visiting.

The first stop was Manglewood. Which could only be reached by boat. Which just made the ride over much more boring than usual, except when Newton would talk about it and mention all the things to do there. It helped to pass the time until the island in question came into view. By appearance alone, you would’ve thought you both were lost in some bayou in the heart of Louisiana, but that wasn’t far enough from the truth. There were film reels, movie cameras, and set pieces all strewn about the landscape. Making it look like a set that was covered in moss and willows. However, you also took notice of a strange figure sitting at the edge of the landmass. Simply sitting there and watching the boat. Once close enough, you seemed to make out that it appeared to be...dog-like? Like a sock puppet type of dog? It was just waiting there and once you both touched down on land, it sped over to investigate. In which, it happily jumped aboard and sniffed around.

Once it glanced at Newton, it’s face changed to a certain type of disinterest but once it scanned over to you, it began to wag its’...butt...and bark happily. You confusedly look at the animal before waving and greeting the...dog-thing. Having it jump up on you and lick you with a fabric tongue, thankfully it didn’t seem to leave any slobber behind.

Newton explained that it was a creature called Oddsock and it seemed to be protecting Manglewood. He almost seemed a tad bit jealous that Oddsock had taken a liking to you so quickly, even if he didn’t show it openly.

He led you off of the boat and further into Manglewood, the dog sticking close to your side.

There, you both found a man who introduced himself as Marlon Random.

He was quite a character. Looking like a spool of film with a strange hairstyle to go with it, the dancing, the personality, the references to movies and such...he was probably the most enjoyable to be around. He didn’t even seem to mind Newton. Greeting him as if it was any other day, in which Newton had replied half-heartedly and explained your situation. Once Marlon heard of your plight, he stopped and looked at you closer. Taking notice of your strange appearance as well, he nods and laughs lightly. Eager to show Manglewood to you, despite Newtons’ protests. You had decided to visit the space area and discovered that floating in space was incredibly fun. The zero gravity, peaceful music playing in the background, and just the weightlessness of it all...it was truly an experience. After that, he took you over to the old-style diner. You jammed out to some old-style tunes, which strangely came from Earth of all places, and you even tried to take a few bites out of the food laying around. Getting the same result as the one from Needlepoint Peaks. You even tried the milkshakes. Which were SO SWEET. Too sweet even!

It was like everything around here was made out of two dumptruck loads of sugar. Plus, you couldn’t really force past it, as it was strong enough to hurt your teeth anyway. One secret spit out later and you lot had decided to settle in for a bite.

With the exemption of you. So while Newton, Marlon, and even Oddsock enjoyed the food...you found yourself without a meal yet again. Your aching belly rumbling in disdain as you sigh quietly. You just had to endure for a bit longer...you would get home soon...hopefully. Thankfully there was water to drink. So you had that instead. Still, you had a kick watching Newton shove fries and pieces of food into that hole in his neck. Which made sense, as he simply couldn’t shove it past the glass that covered his head. It just made you wish you could enjoy it with them...wait...why were they looking at you...why were they laughing --? A tickling sensation pretty much crawled around you as those bothersome floating objects began to stick to you again, resulting in you crying out in agitation and shaking about in the seat to dislodge them. Your companions seemed to find the situation hilarious as you pluck them off and flick them away from yourself. Huffing a bit at your group as they laugh at your grumpiness. But once it was all said and done, the last places being too ‘dangerous’ for you to explore, you both decided it would be time to head out to the Ziggurat. You would’ve headed to a place called ‘Zom Zom’s’ however Newton explained that he only took a special type of currency called ‘collectabells’, which got a chuckle out of you. Sadly, you didn’t really have any currency at all. So you skipped on going there. He probably wouldn’t have anything in your size anyway. So, both of you cross the bridge and ride the gondola into the distance while Marlon and Oddsock waved you both off. In no time at all, the temperature began to drop and snow began to fall from the sky. The wind from the gondola didn’t help the situation either, your clothes could barely keep out the chill. Newton didn’t seem bothered by it, which wasn’t a surprise to you. That fluffy coat he was wearing looked comfortable.

You would ask to wear it, but it was just too small for you. Plus, Lightbulbs radiate heat, so he was probably all warm and toasty underneath that fabric. Talk about being lucky.

Finally, the gondola came to a hill and along that hill seemed to be a towering figure. It almost looked like a burlap sack...like something you would shove potatoes in. Once closer though, it seemed similar to the last creature you encountered.

If logical reasoning could be fathomed here, that must be this land’s protector as well. Seeing by how they grew alert to the approaching elevator. Once it stopped and you and Newton stepped off, the large figure approached curiously. Similar to before, the creature met Newton with a poker face about as blank as the snow, but he gave you a rather silly smile once he looked in your general direction. What you didn’t expect was a large friendly hug to accompany that smile. You were pretty much scooped up and pressed against the taught cloth-chest of the large figure, gasping for air as it cuddled you. Newton began by explaining that this was the Ziggurat, which also happened to be Toggles’ home. Which was the name of the creature hugging you. He told you about the grand library and the ballets that would be held here every day and that hopefully you would enjoy the shows while you both were here. With a few desperate taps on Toggle, you were released and were finally able to get a full breath of air. You almost felt bad for Toggle’s worried face, but a reassured pat on their arm seemed to make them satisfied that you were okay. You walk along, following Newton as he gives you a brief tour of the entrance. Toggle following close behind you both as you walk towards a large and towering brass-like structure that was the centerpiece of this frozen wasteland.

Then, you met Papal Mache in the temple sanctum. Who gave Newton a rather skeptical glance after your arrival before staring at you for a brief moment. Once again, another remark on your appearance was made.

It almost made you wanna put a bag over your head and hide away from the world.

And what is with everyone asking where your ‘stitching’ was? You’re not made of fabric!

You just let out another sigh as Newton repeated the spill from earlier encounters while you busied yourself by looking at the temple architecture. From the looks of it, it seemed to be the insides of a large pipe organ, with stained glass windows of ballerinas and russian-esque soldiers. Which made sense, as Russia was known for its musical culture and revered classics in the modern world. While you admired the art and such, Papal Mache seemed to understand and decided to escort you both down to the library. Which was being looked after by...a dog...woman...thing.

You simply just shake your head and decide to listen in on her history lessons that were offered to you, which were indubitably interesting and selectively inspiring.

Especially once you began to read some of the pamphlets that Toggle helped save from a flood. Toggle even stayed and sat down to listen to his heroic deeds for a bit. Out of curiosity, you pick up one of the pamphlets. No wonder the lady-dog would’ve been so upset to lose some of this history, it was pretty interesting! However, it was short-lived once Newton grew bored and pulled you away from the library with a rushed goodbye to the friendly dog lady. Nearly leaving Toggle behind. Only then did you realize how cold you were getting from the temperature after sitting still on a cold floor. You begin to shudder as the cold wind brushes against you and you slow down as the cold bites at your flesh.

Curiously, Newton had questioned what was wrong as you trembled helplessly in the frigid gales. Once you explained that humans can get something called hypothermia from excessive cold and die, Newton practically flipped his lid.

A quick grasp of your hand and he took off with you in tow.

He quickly rushed past Papal Mache and through the temple to get you to a large furnace on the other side.

Once close enough, you could feel the warmth of the furnace melting away the freezing ice that had wrapped itself around your body. Replacing it with warmth and comfort. Once at the entrance, you graciously sit down on the warmed metal and let out a blissful sigh of relief. You were pretty much scolded by Newton for not telling him earlier and a worried Papal Mache arrived on scene not much later. A brief questioning later and Papal figured it might be best if you don’t stay here too long. Not that he didn’t enjoy new visitors, but because you just weren’t equipped for such freezing temperatures. Which were even worse when night fell.

You nodded in understanding and let out a sigh of brief disappointment, but the snow was hard to endure at this point. Once you thawed out, you both would be heading to your final destination, Bunkum Lagoon.

The sound of small rapid footsteps grace your ears as a smaller version of the big guy came scuttling onto the scene. A brief slide later and suddenly it was the big guy again! Only then did you realize what ‘Toggle’ meant. It made you almost wanna laugh. Papal Mache decided to speak up to the large silent hero about your incident and Toggle seemed to become saddened by the news, but nodded in understanding anyway. You felt bad for such a rapid departure, but what else could be done? It was best to finish touring Bunkum so you could get back to Stitchem Manor so you could wait for Larry. Once you got warm enough, you stood up from the ground and Newton rejoined you as both of you walked back into the temple and towards the back where a large elevator awaited. Both of you got on and Papal Mache and Toggle waved their farewells as the elevator began to move and drop down. You had no idea how this would get you to a lagoon, but if you weren’t at the risk of getting hypothermia, you may like it a bit more… Newton seemed to be more apprehensive about this place, unlike the last two places you both visited. He began to talk about a wicked queen who probably boils her disrespectful subjects in hot oil and how she would probably tear him limb from limb if she as much as smelled him. You probably broke a sweat listening to his anxious worries about the next destination. Didn’t seem to be as peaceful as the last two places, just from what he was saying alone. You gulped as the air began to become more humid as the elevator slowed to a stop.

Once outside, the first thing your eyes caught was the sunset that was glistening over the very large lake that resided in a city filled with towering spires and buildings. You couldn’t hide a gasp of awe as you stepped out into the residential areas and admired the masquerade theme that the city had going for it. Plus, there were airships and clouds as far as your eyes could see. It was truly breathtaking. Newton slowly slinked out after you, scanning around as if to keep an eye out for danger. You had thrown caution to the wind as you walked out further into the Lagoon, Newton squeaking and following behind you for a change. You pretty much just happily stroll through the town, looking at all of the cardboard, stickers, and crafted creatures fluttering about. A stark contrast to a human like yourself.

Suddenly, a sudden shout came from above. The noise made Newton cry out in fear as he hid behind yourself as a hovering platform came into your view. On top of it was a marionette looking female as she called down to the both of you. From the tone of her voice, you already knew you weren’t gonna like her. Her tone was bratty and easily portrayed the type that she was. That type being a heavily spoilt princess that expected everyone to obey and respect them, despite them not deserving any. She was also being followed by another sack creature, this one resembling a bird. She immediately began to chew out Newton for one reason or another, you weren’t exactly paying attention as she hissed at your companion. It was almost like she was demanding an explanation as to why he was in ‘her’ kingdom. Newton had managed to pluck up enough courage to creep out from behind yourself as he explained your situation once more. About how you were from ‘very far away’ and a friend had asked if someone was willing to show Bunkum to the newcomer. Despite the fact that he tried to pass it off as him trying to make amends by doing this ‘tour’ with you. Despite the fact that he selflessly volunteered for it, no pressuring from his father or anything. Still, you said nothing as the ‘Queen of Bunkum’ introduced herself to you and you to Swoop, who had landed and was staring at you after giving Newton another neutral passing glance. It even almost seemed to flutter happily for a bit. It made you wonder why all of these sack creatures seemed to be happy to see you, but that can be pondered later. Right now, you just wanted to go and explore this last location before the night began to fall.

With courtesy, you bowed a bit and greeted Pinky. Being sure to call her ‘queen’ in a respectful manner. She looked like the type that was prone to suck-ups.

In which you assumed correctly. Almost seemingly flustered with your polite behavior, she cackles a bit before welcoming you to the Lagoon and ‘knowing fully well that you WILL enjoy your stay ’. However she does give you a warning to keep ‘that yellow ninny’ out of trouble, to which you assured her that she had nothing to be concerned for. Satisfied, she calls swoop back to her side and the levitating platform hovers off into the distance. A thankfully short encounter. Newton lets out a relieved sigh as you continue on. A desire to explore in your veins as the sun continues to set. It was kinda sad that you couldn’t hang out with the bird like you could the other two, but it probably has a job protecting the queen. Still, you continued on. Your lightbulb co-conspirator follows you from close behind. Just waiting to see what you decide to do with the rest of your day. And It was a rather eventful rest of the day.

Both you and Newton had attended various events. Such as an air joust festival, a puppet show, and you two even climbed the tallest tower in the district and listened to the bells of the tower ring. You even got to see the ‘legendary creative heart’, which was strangely disturbing. Despite it being just a giant valentine heart with large bird wings, it still pulsed like an actual heart. You honestly didn’t know how the locals could stand being next to it for so long. Even from this distance it was loud enough for you to hear. You just brush it off and try to ignore all of the bothersome floaty things that came from it. Hopefully none of them would stick to you. At the end of your trip, you both stopped on a pier to watch the sunset over the lagoon. The purple and pink clouds just brought out a tranquility in the atmosphere that almost made you forget about your troubles and your lingering sleepless exhaustion. Despite being here for about a few days, you were starving and getting any sleep was rather rare. Mostly since weird things would occur while you were dozing.

You fell asleep in the rocketship once and a large flower garden had grown up around you while you had slept and you only took notice when you woke up. It was hard to explain it to Larry. You even crashed in Clive’s factory and when you awakened, some new robots were by your side. Seemingly not made in the factory at all, as they didn’t even have the same body shape as the Sackbots. Clive was about as stumped as you were when you showed him. It was just...when you fell asleep, weird stuff would happen to you and the things that surrounded where you were sleeping. So now, you just try to stay awake as much as possible. Even if your eyelids felt like cinder blocks and tiredness nipped at your aching muscles. The thing that bothered you the most as your empty stomach.

If you couldn’t sleep nor eat, how would you even make it out of here?

There was no sustenance to keep you going. You’re pretty much running on emergency energy right now. Burning stored calories and trying to stay alive while you were at it. The constant insomnia was also wearing down on you. You just felt like you could fall asleep right here on the pier. But Newton jostles you awake by reminding you that you both had to head back to Stitchem Manor before night fell on Bunkum. You nod slowly in understanding and finally muster the strength to stand up with a long stretch. From there, Newton led the way back to his home. Leading back the way you came. Back up the mountain, back through the Ziggurat, back down the mountain, through the swamp again, and back to the boat. Once you both set sail, you watch the sinking sun with a lazy gaze.

It was quite a trip...but you really wish you were home. It wasn’t like you were miserable here. These strangers were so nice and open to you, despite your off-putting appearance. You just wished you had something to eat right now...and maybe a nap. Or a thousand year sleep, which would be far better. Still, Stitchem Manor came into view at the cliffside and you both began to dock the boat. By the time you both arrived home, the sky had turned to twilight as you slowly walked after Newton.

Who seemed to be rather jovial after todays ‘adventure’. Both Nana Pud and Captain Pud were there to greet you both at the gates of the manor, Larry Da Vinci was there as well. Seemingly having an idle chit chat while you both arrived. Once you two were noticed, you sluggishly came to a stand still next to Larry while Newton griped about being pampered by his doting mother. You and Larry couldn’t help but chuckle as you all said your goodnights and you and Larry headed away from the manor. You manage to look over your shoulder as the younger lightbulb seems to be happily waving to you while he and his parents go inside the manor. You returned the favor, albeit a bit more slowly as exhaustion slowly caught up to you. Once you were out of sight of the manor, Larry had asked how your day went. You pretty much told him everything. About the fun you had in Manglewood, the freezing experience in the Ziggurat, and the jousting shows in Bunkum Lagoon. You spoke of all the people you met and how Newton was informative and made sure to look after you. It seemed to earn Larrys’ approval as he nods as the pod comes into sight. Once you both were aboard and a course was set for Craftworld, you decided to settle in on the pillows on the far side of the pod. Where it was a bit quieter than the control room. Larry decided that he would drive you both back to Craftworld while you took a nap. You didn’t mind and happily accepted the offer. Though, he probably could tell that you weren’t getting enough sleep. You could practically see the darkness lining your eyes.

Now you were wrapped up in soft materials and laying in a nest made from pillows and such. Your mind was so tired and strained from being awake for so long that all you could think about was how many people you met in the last few days. How many potential friends you could make...but it was still a mystery as to how you arrived on Craftworld in the first place. Let alone how to get out of this dimension and safely back to Earth. If you wanted to go back...that is. I mean, you were still hungry. Even more so now. You could only sigh as the feelings of hunger went away some time ago after you tried to not focus on anything. You were still lost. Even if you met some friendly faces along the way. Still... how did you get here? And how do you get back? You merely blink as these questions run through your mind and you just let out a deep exhale and close your eyes tightly. You just needed some sleep for now. Maybe this is all just one big fever dream and you’ll wake up back in your normal bed with normal humans around you. No fabric, no cardboard, so sponges...just flesh and bones. Organic stuff... REAL stuff.

Or...at least the things you HOPE were REAL things. Oh, but it was just another problem to solve for tomorrow.

You let out another final long sigh as your heavy eyes finally close and you drifted off to sleep in record time.

Blissfully unaware of the images and energy seeping from your head while you slept peacefully throughout the whole trip back to Craftworld.

[halequeenjas]

Welcome to Chili’s || Harsh, Nell, & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @nelllraiser @notsoharsh @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Okay, maybe sometimes you do have to perform an impromptu exorcism in a Chili’s. 

Normally, Jasmine wouldn’t be quite so inclined to the “cheap” part mentioned in Nell’s text, but hell, she did love margaritas and Chili’s delivered on that front. She’d gone there for plenty of girls’ nights and happy hours in the past, so she’d been inclined to agree to the outing. Especially since she looked forward to some quality time with the youngest Vural. They’d opted to sit at the bar as they were primarily here for the drinks. It was a nice, relaxing evening and she found it easy to just goof around with Nell. She’d always been so free-spirited and funny. Hell, after a few rounds of margaritas, Jasmine found herself going along with Nell’s attempts to troll the bartender instead of nudging her to stop. “She’s really not messing with you, Josh. The cream in Bailey’s only comes from a very specific kind of cow. You’re a bartender, you really should know this!” She took another sip from her margarita and had a devious look in her eyes. She glanced around the bar and saw a familiar face approaching the bar. “Harsh,” she practically yelled in a voice that definitely sounded a little tipsy. She waved enthusiastically and patted the seat next to her. Thankfully, her enchanted red heels kept her from slipping as she lept up to greet her hunter friend. “You know Nell, right? You should join us. I do still owe you that drink,” she said with a small nudge. 

After looking at the amount of medical bills and debt she still owed the hospital, a long day of checking in on the family’s of those killed in the demon-shark attack, and after the weekend Jasmine had gone through, Nell could think of no better idea than getting cheaply and absolutely sloshed at a Chili’s. “It’s true!” she exclaimed a little too loudly, leaning towards the bartender that continued to consider her and the exorcist with careful skepticism. “First you gotta be named Bailey. Then you gotta name the cow Bailey. And then you have to have a- what’s it called, Jasmine? The guys who are in the courtroom with the baton and the ‘All rise for the honorable judge!’ “ Nell’s nose scrunched as she thought, finding her answer a full and long five seconds later. “The Bailiff! He has to be the one to milk it. Then it’s Bailey’s. It’s like champagne coming from that one place in France!” But then Jasmine was yelling a familiar name, and Nell’s head whipped to find the bearer of said name. “Harsh!” Nell yelled in an equally inebriated tone. “Harsh, come here right now! Park your little butt right here,” she said as she too patted the seat. “He knows me! You know Jasmine?” Nell questioned the man before looking back towards her drinking buddy. “You know Harsh?” Another flicker of thought later, Nell squinted her eyes, asking Jasmine in a far too loud whisper, “Are you flirting with him?”

It wasn’t exactly Harsh’s usual haunt, but hey, he had a coupon. Couldn’t let that go to waste. The plan had been to cruise around, maybe pick out an easy meal as they were heading out the door, but that quickly got scrapped when a familiar voice called his name. Easy grin spreading on his face, Harsh sidled his way through the small crowd of irritable customers and exhausted looking wait staff to the bar. “Well, look who it is, my two favorite ladies. Funny running into you here. Is this where all the cool people hang out now? I must’ve missed the memo.” He gave Jasmine a one armed hug and shot Nell a wink before sinking into the seat beside them. Alright new plan. They both already seemed a little sloshed, someone would have to get them home safe. When did he become such a lame ass babysitter? “I’ll take a drink, looks like I’m going to need a few to catch up with you two.” His grin only grew with Nell’s too loud question. “I like to think everyone is always flirting with me, it makes things more fun.”

Maybe Jasmine should have taken pity on the poor bartender, but she was starting to understand why Nell found this to be so fun as she held back drunken giggles as Nell insisted all these ridiculous steps for Bailey’s to be Bailey’s. The description was making her want a Bailey’s and coffee though she didn’t want to be up all night or mix liquors with the… however many margaritas she’d drank at this point. Before they could further mess with the bartender, they were greeting Harsh. She laughed as Nell seemed confused that she and Harsh knew each other. “Yes,” she said with a nod, “He’s helped me out with some properties in the past. Really multi-talented man this one.” She gave Harsh’s arm a clumsy nudge that would have perhaps lined up with Nell’s next question had she been a little more graceful. She rolled her eyes, “Nell, please. I’m thirty, not thirteen. But I’ve probably flirted with him which I’m hardly embarrassed by. We’re all attractive adults here.” She smiled brightly and took her seat back at the bar as Harsh sat with the pair of them. With a wave, she told the bartender to add whatever Harsh was having to her tab. “Have as many drinks as you’d like… we definitely have you beat. And you know what, I like your way of thinking. It is more fun to just believe the attractive people in your life are flirting with you.” At least right now it felt that way. A margarita or two ago she would have likely scoffed at most who tried to flirt with her, but hell, who really cared. 

The poor bartender was spared from more well-meaning torture as Nell’s attention was sufficiently drawn away by Harsh and Jasmine...and the fresh margarita that had appeared in front of her. Leaning forward to take a quick and messy sip, she wiggled a little as the alcohol slipped down her throat, pleased by the tickle it made. “That’s true- he does have lots of talents. Have you asked him about all the dinosaurs he knows?” she asked, wondering if Jasmine knew of the vampire talents that Harsh possessed. Or was she one of the ones he’d tried to trick into thinking he was a hunter? “I didn’t say it was embarrassing!” she defended loudly. “I was just wondering! Is it illegal to ask?” Then she turned back to the bartender who seemed to look her over with a wary glance. “He’ll have two- no three! Three margaritas for him!” she said while jabbing her thumb in Harsh’s direction. The alcohol might not work all that well, but she didn’t actually care at a moment like this. Maybe if he drank twenty of them, then something would happen. 

This could go a couple of ways. There probably wasn’t any way to tell Nell not to drop any little vampire hints without giving himself away. Shit. Harsh really needed to keep better track of who knew what and whether they were any good at keeping secrets. “Aw c’mon, it’s not like I know them personally. But if a dinosaur showed up, I’d definitely introduce myself at least,” he said, with a light laugh. Maybe Nell would get the hint… if he was ever going to be that lucky. Three margaritas probably wouldn’t do much for him, but hell, he wasn’t going to turn them down. He was sipping at the first as he cast an idle glance around the restaurant. Pretty normal. Loud, crowded… except. Huh. He frowned, squinting for a moment. There was this weird little guy just standing there, looking right at Jasmine as people passed him by. He gave Jasmine a slight nudge. “Uh, hey. Is it just me, or is that guy giving you eyes right now?”

Jasmine found herself characteristically shaking her head at Nell. That girl really did say the wildest things. She nudged Nell and chastised, “Be polite, Nellie. You’re not that far behind us. Keep talking like that and I’m getting you a walker and hard candies for your next birthday.” She found herself laughing and added, “You whispered it loudly like it’d be some sort of secret.” Her eyes lit up when the bartender brought over another round of margaritas. It didn’t take her long to get a large gulp in. She got a bit of a chill, but didn’t think much of it. They weren’t too far from the door and Maine in winter was frigid at best. The nudge Harsh gave her made her a little more alert of the familiar feeling. She turned to look where Harsh was directing her and immediately dropped the glass in her hand. The clang of breaking glass was hardly heard over the crowd in Chili’s. Her hand reached for Harsh’s momentarily as she steeled herself to face Larry Bob here and now. Then it hit her, she dropped the hand and looked at him incredulously, “Wait, you can see Larry Bob, too? How- Okay, not the point right now. Nell, I need you to leave. Now.” She clumsily grabbed the salt shaker and fished underneath the bar for her purse. The ghost approached with a satisfied grin on his face. “Come on, Jas, you don’t want your favorite colleague joining you for happy hour?” The wind around them picked up and Jasmine immediately swore under her breath. Calling him a tacky little man probably wouldn’t help the situation right now. There were far too many people here for him to throw a ghostly temper tantrum, but the flying barstool crashing into the shelf of liquor said otherwise. 

Hm. Maybe Jasmine didn’t know about Harsh being a vampire. Or maybe he was just acting coy about the dinosaur thing. Either way, Nell didn’t particularly care all that much when she was as many margaritas deep as she was. “It’d be rude not to introduce yourself,” was the only comment she made on that as she took another sip of the drink in front of her. Her lips parted to answer Jasmine as well, but as soon as the words ‘Larry Bob’ were out of the exorcist’s mouth, Nell was frowning, brows drawn almost comically close together. “Larry Bob? Fuck that middle-aged, suburban wannabe NASCAR barbecue dad name having piece of shit- where is he?” Perhaps being drunk at a chili’s had left Nell wanting when it came to good judgment and the name calling of ghosts. But...then again she’d never been one to mince words. As the wind began to pick up, her fists clenched at her sides, paying no attention to Jasmine’s demands she leave. “Fuck that ghost! Fuck ghosts! I’m tired of ghosts! They had their lives, and now they wanna ruin everyone else’s! Step the fuck up, Larry Bob!” As barstools began to fly, Nell groaned, knowing this was about to get very ugly very quickly. “Alright! Everybody out!” she yelled over the din of the erupting chaos, trying to usher the normies out of the bar. “Move your asses, or I’ll move them for you!” At least she was coherent enough to make sure people didn’t get hurt.

Eyes widening with the breaking of the glass, Harsh looked between Jasmine and the creep. Wait. What did she mean how could he--oh. Oh shit. Fucking ghosts. At least the asshole had the decency to give Harsh a bit more time to think of an explanation. As the barstool went flying, Harsh moved, wedging himself between Jasmine and the remains of the bottles flying from the shelf. Glass caught his back as panic spread. Nell’s calls seemed to get almost as much attention as the destruction Larry Bob or whatever it was Jasmine had called him was. Harsh grabbed Jasmine by the arm, keeping her behind him as the ghost advanced. “I’ll explain later. Jasmine, tell me what to do. Nell, stay close.” Seeing Jasmine grab for a salt shaker, he did the same, ripping the top off to spread a clumsy line before the three of them. It wasn’t much. This wasn’t his area, it wasn’t even his fake area. Ghosts usually didn’t bother him and he did the same. He should’ve tried harder to keep it that way. 

Normally, Jasmine enjoyed Nell’s colorful antics. However, even in her drunken state, she knew tormenting a poltergeist was a dumb idea. There was no time to tell Nell to can it though. At least she shifted her focus to getting people out of here. That left her here realizing she needed to perform an impromptu exorcism in a Chili’s. At least she didn’t need to direct Nell further. “God damn it, Larry,” she grumbled as she raised her arms and closed her eyes to shield herself from the incoming glass. It caught her by surprise when none hit her. She cautiously opened her eyes and realized Harsh had blocked her from the flying glass. “Thanks,” she said, already a little out of breath. He was asking for direction and she pondered it for a moment, keeping the salt in her hand at the ready. “Try to make sure no one gets impaled. I’m going to try and exorcise this bastard right now.” There was a taunting laugh and another gust of wind that ripped the booths out of the wall. “Like hell you are,” Larry Bob cackled maniacally, “You’re the one who should be the ghost. You’ve always taken what should have been mine.” Jasmine scoffed and fished some salt out of her bag, “Oh, please. I was the best in the office because I actually worked, you snivelling little daddy’s boy.” So much for not taunting ghosts, but she was drunk and she was livid. She haphazardly created a circle of salt on the floor and began chanting the familiar Latin phrases, but found she couldn’t feel a pull on him. Everything just kept flying around her and she could barely keep her balance as the wind whipped all around them. 

Why was everyone trying to baby her? Nell squinted defiantly in Harsh’s direction as he mentioned staying close. Honestly, it was as if they didn’t even remember she’d killed more than her fair share of things. Actually, had she mentioned that to Harsh? She couldn’t really recall while there was a poltergeist tearing up a chili’s, and she was multiple margaritas deep. At least the people had mostly vacated the restaurant now, most of them unwilling to be a part of a freak tornado after reading the paper and seeing that the last two had caused deaths. “You tell ‘im, Jasmine! You’re gonna end his whole career! Oh wait! You already did!” The witch egged the woman on, all for trash talk in the heat of a battle- especially after a few shots of tequila. Nell knew she should stay behind the salt line, but she also knew that Larry Bob needed to be stopped despite her being unable to see him, and the metal legs of the table closest to them were looking awfully tempting. With any luck, they’d be made of iron. “Just cover me!” she yelled as her only warning before darting over the salt line, ducking as a barstool went flying past. It was times like these she was grateful for being small, and easily able to get in and out of tight situations. As she neared the table she slurred out a spell, and in the next instant the wood had shattered into pieces, leaving the legs free for the taking. Grabbing one from the floor, she eagerly hefted the trophy in her hands. “Alright! Where is the fucker?!” She directed her question towards Jasmine and Harsh, ready to smack this ghost bastard into oblivion. 

So this is what exorcisms were like. Harsh had seen one or two in his time, but he usually hadn’t been caught in the middle of them. He was going to have to go back to that after this. Being on the human side of things sucked. Cursing he batted away flying bits of bottles and dishes, keeping the debris from Jasmine as much as possible. She could do her thing, all he had to do was make sure she and Nell were--fuck, and there went Nell. Jasmine had the salt circle, so he rushed after Nell, ducking under another flying barstool as he skidded to the table. Iron, right. That was a good idea. He snatched up a hefty iron rod, turning just in time to smack a chair out of the air, sending it clattering across the room. “You can’t see him?” Ghost rules were stupid. He pointed. “There, he’s right in front of that booth. Help Jasmine, I’ll get him.” Harsh charged, swinging the iron right through the shrimpy little asshole’s spectral form. That wouldn’t get rid of him, he knew enough about ghosts to be sure of that, so he turned, frantic, searching for where the bastard might pop up next.

Any other time, Jasmine would have appreciated Nell gassing her up. This was not one of those times and she did her best to ignore it. Her hand was clasped around her necklace to help her find the focus and strength she needed to get through this ritual. Thankfully, the crowd seemed eager to get out of there quickly which just left her, Nell, and Harsh. That was… better. The last thing she needed was some random person to be standing by because some pathetic poltergeist held a grudge against her. Everything kept whipping around her and she kept going with the familiar Latin phrases that were admittedly much more difficult to annunciate after… how many margaritas had she had? Way too many to be performing an exorcism in the middle of a god damn Chili’s of all places. Her fists were clenched at her side and her voice was shouting over the howling wind. The longer she went, the weaker she could feel her body becoming. Her legs felt wobbly as if she was on rough waters and her voice was no longer carrying the same strong tone. Black was beginning to pinch around the edges of her eyes and she knew they had to finish this soon, but despite her efforts, Larry Bob wasn’t even being pulled into the circle. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nell rip a table apart. God, she hoped those table legs were iron. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up.

Nell wasn’t sure how exactly she was meant to help Jasmine as Harsh has asked. After all, she wasn’t an exorcist in any sense of the word. Sure- Jasmine could probably sap some strength from her if needed as both their practices were centered in magic, but wouldn’t the quicker option be to just get rid of the ghost? Nevertheless, she momentarily made her way to Jasmine, recognizing the signs of fatigue taking hold of the woman. Squinting her eyes against the wind, Nell reached out to place a hand on the exorcist’s back, siphoning her power into the woman so that Jasmine might stand taller. “Is it working?” she yelled over the din of the Chili’s unable to gauge where things were when she couldn’t even see Larry Bob. Once she was satisfied that Jasmine wasn’t going to collapse, the witch hefted her table leg once again- simply itching to run through some uppity trust fund ghost. Spotting Harsh, she made her way back towards him, jamming her hand into his so that he might guide her. “Just take me with you, and I’ll swing where you swing!” Why hadn’t she brought along those ghost seeing goggles she’d won in the arts and crafts contest? Hindsight was truly 20/20. But hopefully the combined effort of their iron would be enough to dispel Larry Bob if Jasmine didn’t get there first.

“Got it.” Gripping Nell’s hand tight, Harsh turned in a quick circle, looking for that little asshole. There. He gave Nell a pull forward. “There, in front of the stupid chili painting with the purple hat,” he said, voice low, though it was unlikely the ghost could have even hard him over the rush of wind and smashing of furniture. “Charge on three. I’ll hit him high, you hit him low. One, two, three--” Did it matter where you hit a ghost? Harsh wasn’t sure. But if they could just disrupt the bastard enough, maybe it would give Jasmine a break, or at least drive him out of this stupid restaurant. On his mark, Harsh lunged forward, pulling Nell along with him. He probably could have just carried her, that might have been more coordinated than their awkward rush forward. With a great swing, he brought his iron rod straight through Larry Bob’s smug face.

Even with Nell’s hand on her back, Jasmine couldn’t seem to banish Larry Bob no matter how hard she tried. Was her slurred speech impacting the Latin? There had to be something, but she had to keep going. There was no other option. That was, until she saw Harsh and Nell charging from the corner of her eye. A protective instinct rose in her despite knowing Nell was more than capable, but it seemed to be for not. As their table legs collided with Larry Bob, he dissipated. He was far from gone for good, but she could breathe again. She let herself fall back against the bar as fatigue overcame her. God, exorcisms and margaritas were not a good combination. She weakly looked between the two before taking in the mess around her. “Thanks,” she croaked, “We need…” They needed to leave. Make sure he didn’t come back. But should they check for people? Everyone had shuffled out pretty quickly and the bar took the brunt of the damage. And she was tired. So freaking tired. “Go,” she finally said though she found herself unable to meet either of their eyes. 

Nell had slashed her iron table leg in tandem with Harsh, and judging by his and Jasmine’s reactions— their attack had been successful, momentarily banishing Larry Bob back to wherever it was he went when he dissipated. Dropping her makeshift weapon where she stood, Nell instinctively went over to Jasmine, leaning herself against the exorcist in an attempt to provide some support in the wake of spending so much energy. Funneling her magic towards Jasmine, she tried to lend the woman more of her strength, knowing she still had more to give, and wanting to have Jasmine steady on her feet. “Yes- we should get out of here,” Nell agreed, looking around the wreckage of the Chili’s. With the spoken words of a spell, and a stomp of her foot, Nell magically scanned the rest of the restaurant for any other life signatures, but the only one’s present seemed to be her and Jasmine. And Harsh, of course— though it was notable that he didn’t show up with the spell. Generally, the magic was still able to sense the presence of the undead, and she wondered if it was Harsh’s lack of soul that was making him undetectable. “No one else is here- let’s ditch this popsicle stand. No good fucking ghost,” she mumbled as she tried to herd Jasmine towards the exit, waving Harsh over as well. “You’re both okay, right?”

The asshole was gone, for now. Stupid ghosts. Harsh really needed to learn more about them, maybe Jasmine had books he could borrow… if she wasn’t about to have a whole lot of questions for him. Maybe she would forget the whole bit about how hunters couldn’t see ghosts. Regrouping with her and Nell, Harsh glanced about the restaurant. No heart beats he could hear, there were some panicked ones outside, but most were moving away quickly, and beyond that… sirens. Fuck. “Yeah, we should go, the cops will be here soon and I don’t really want to try to explain an exorcism to them.” He followed along after Nell, a few quick steps bringing him to Jasmine’s other side as he offered his arm. “I’m good, what about you two? That was rough.” His eyes flitted about as they made for the exit, looking for any sign of that smug ghostly piece of shit. “I’m guessing that was a friend of yours, Jasmine?”

Tomorrow was going to be a hangover from hell, that much Jasmine was sure of though she felt steadier on her feet with Nell’s support. Something about it made her feel a little stronger, too. “Yeah, a little shaken up, but nothing some takeout and water can’t fix.” With the confirmation no one was still lingering around, she followed her friends out and quickly realized she was going to need to take care of Larry Bob sooner rather than later. “An old colleague who blames me for the fact he was in an accident like I was supposed to know the deck he was walking on would just collapse.” She had felt bad he died, even if she had never liked him all that much, but he was certainly making it harder and harder to sympathize. She took slow and careful steps towards her car before throwing the keys to Harsh. “You mind driving,” she asked before adding, “I’ll order everyone dinner once we get back to my place.” As she’d also be hitting the books and hitting up every contact she knew in order to get rid of Larry Bob once and for all.

[a-day-in-the-life-of-a-brotha]

4-27-21 The end of a 12 day shift

4:22 a.m. I woke up at 4 a.m. but I stayed laid down thinking about all the things I needed to do. Pack a bag (I’m going to spend the night with Dani...well nights) cut my hair, and, manicure myself. I also have to prepare myself for work. “Shit, what am I packing” I exclaimed to the still air. Sometimes it’s weird when nobody is there ie; my children my mother. Dani sent a text “Good Morning my Love”...Ditto.

5:21 a.m. I leave the house...too late to go to McDonald’s to get 2 round egg and cheese biscuits and a large sweet tea with a little bit of ice. But my addiction to cigarettes does lead me to 7-11 to get a pack, even though I’m running late for work.

Frustration #1 So the cashier that’s normally there, ain’t there, thank goodness, however it’s a new guy...not new but not the normal early shift guy. He’s slow, I’m late, and there are many amigos in line. “Newport 100 box brother”....quick exchange and we are done. So in this instance it’s truly not an outside frustration...it’s me that’s frustrated that I am compelled to go to this job, just to make money, so I can maintain food, shelter and clothing for my loved ones. I’m a slave, all of these things should be free. I’m getting under compensated and overpaying for living....yes...just for living.

5:50 a.m. Work. It’s Tuesday...my Friday. I’m exhausted already, pained to be at this workhouse/plantation, anticipating the days end (I’m going to meet Dani). As I walk up and get settled in my work station, the jones (talking shit) begins..”You on the phone?” says my short bus patron co-worker...I head nod to confirm his thought. He still finds a way to come over to me to draw my energy which sooo many people seem to do as of late. “You be proper as shit when you’re on the phone...then gangsta as shit when you get off”...says the man that just two weeks ago hurled words that would provoke me to smack him with the bricks I call my hands on the street...but we was at work, so it’s a bunch of bullshit he’s spewing. I laughed, “It’s true brother, I am proper on the phone with my lady!” What he doesn’t know is that when I’m relaxed, I’m proper, shit I’ve studied this language so much, I’ve mastered it...so I use it. You can only go as far as your thoughts take you...so if you have a limited vocabulary that’s how far you’re going. I know I know, it’s the white mans language, but I’m from here, and it’s the only language I’m well versed in. Espanol...un pocito!!

7:00 a.m. The arrival of Omar. My friend. We are almost 30 years in as friends. “What’s up big guy” he says...”What’s up O” says me. We are both strong headed men, and about the only two people at this job that are not afraid to lose it. That characteristic trait sets us apart from the sheep at this place that are scared to speak up for themselves, instead for some of them, we will speak up. Do me and O bump heads...hell yeah. But we’ve come to a point where we can gauge each other...and we now know when and how to stay away from each other, with no hard feelings. One time we were arguing at work, a dude came to try to calm us down, we simultaneously shut that nigga down...and retired outside to squash it. Work ensues...

12:00 p.m. After Lunch. I was called in the office. Ok I fudged some numbers on the diesel gas pump for the buses I service...a couple of buses mileage was off. Who cares right? The supervisor does...Dave. He’s an older white guy that is accustomed to talking to black men any way he wants. Not me though...our first run in was our last. “LARRY to the office” on the loud speaker he says. I go... and he starts to raise his voice as if I were a child.

Frustration #2 Although this instance didn’t happen on this day, I’m getting frustrated by merely thinking about it. When Dave gets to yelling (mind you this is the 2nd of two caucasian supervisors I’ve ever had, I’m 45) all I hear is the “Blah Blah Blah...aggression aggression aggression”...I meet aggression with aggression...I don’t fight fire fire with fire...I fight fire with water. “Dave, when you raise your voice at me, I can’t hear you, AND all I get is angry.” He quickly stopped, apologized and let me calmly know what the ailment was. Nonetheless on this day, I got called in the office, informed about the challenge and I said I would fix it. He went on this soliloquy as to how and why it needs to fixed. I’m smarter than him, but I get paid less...I already knew how to solve the problem. It gives me hives, listening to idiots...

2:30 p.m. The Anticipation of Dani. I’m off work...my anxiety is on 100...I’m not having a good day, but I’m going straight to Dani...I miss her, but I’m anxious about sex...we haven’t done that yet. I rush to her, she gets off at 2:45, but she’s 45 mins away in Baltimore, and I don’t want her to be waiting too long. “What’s up babe...how was your day” says she, whilst on the speakerphone in my car. I’m completely honest with her “I’m not having a good day.” Now I don’t want to not have a good day, shit I’m about to see her, my love, my buxom enchantress, but I must be real and honest...it’s the basis of our relationship. I get there.

3:30 p.m. Dani and the food reviewer “Big Schlim.” I arrive, a hug and kiss ensued, we are both exhausted but glad to be in each other’s presence. “How was your day Dani?” “It was ok” she said and then goes in on the length of her time at work and how she was amped to get out of there (anytime you feels this way about employment, it’s definitely slave work). Normally I already have a spot that I want to go review, today I didn’t. Soooo off to MyMammasVegan to get them delicious ass honey ol bay fried cauliflower bites. In the intern I’ll figure out what we will be eating. As we rode, my guard was let down, I don’t have to defend myself with her, she is a part of my solace. We got the bites, we went to the spot, we people watched and joned on folks...laughter and her...got me through. Let’s go home...

I forgot to mention Friends...how many of us have them. Malika...well..here’s the text I sent... Good Day Malika. I truly hope that you are in a harmonious space to receive and wholeheartedly digest this message. I’ll start by saying that I love you, and I am honored to truly call you and think of you as a real friend.

I’m sending this message to set up some boundaries for me, with you. I will no longer accept you yelling at me out of frustration. I will no longer accept you hanging up the phone abruptly out of frustration. As a long time friend I expect support for my endeavors. A like, a share, a comment on the new ventures I have, are simple but effective gestures to show support and cost nothing. I noticed, a while back, that the things I was posting on my IG pages were getting no support from you. That was truly disappointing. Even the IKEA post that you called me about wasn’t liked by you, and if you truly read it, you would’ve known what that “Pink Shit” was. That call you made to me also showed a complete disregard for my schedule. I’ve relayed to you several times that I work the early morning hours...and you seem to “forget” or you just simply don’t care. Also...for the last 4 years I’ve noticed a pattern amongst my “friends”....none of you know my children. Initially I was riddled with guilt behind this, thinking that was on ME to bring them around more often. But wait a minute...you know where I live, I’ve had the same number for years, at ANY time you could’ve called and came by to chill with them...do ANYTHING with them (pre Covid). They’ve received nothing from you...nothing....your occasional presence is free. They are almost 15 and if they see you on the street...they won’t know you...and that’s not on me. I sat back and waited to see what was going to happen...nothing. So Malika, I must set up some healthy boundaries with you, these behaviors for you hurt me, and I will no longer allow that to happen, especially to my children who don’t know you for real. Ian remaining your lifelong friend...period....I ask you to respect me in the aforementioned manner going forward, and this text is not meant for you to rebuttal, it’s for you to know, and for me to release. Thank you for being around for 30.

6:30’ish Home. Dani’s House. We finally arrived. This is where I end. Me and her at home are private...I just know that I’m meant to be with her...my wife.

[pynkhues]

What’s you top 5 unpopular good girls ships?

I am eternally blessed, anon, because all my ships for Good Girls are pretty popular, haha. I’m all about Beth x Rio, Ruby x Stan, Dean x Suffering, Boomer x Grievous Bodily Harm! Even my non-canon ships like Annie x Nancy or Annie x JT are pretty popular! 

So instead, I’m offering you five crack ships and I’ve written the scenarios where I think they could work, because I am a glutton for punishment, haha. One of them I actually want to write, but I’m not going to say which, because I don’t want anyone to peer pressure me into writing it, hahaha. (I have way too many WIPs!)

Below a cut to save your feeds.

1. Krystal x Lucy

Okay, SO, I accidentally wrote them into the pornstar au, and ever since the thought came to me, it’s latched on like a parasite! I love the thought of them both having someone in their corner in the way that we sort of know they don’t? Lucy really needed somebody who could fight for her and was more clued into the world than either herself or Max, and Krystal pretty clearly needs someone who’s kind to her. Plus Krystal would edge out some of Lucy’s cutesyness, while Lucy would ground Krystal, and idk! I just think they’d be cute!

Okay, scenario though – I’m thinking the Hill’s have a Christmas party. Lucy and Max have recently broken up and Beth feels bad for her, so invites her to be her plus-one (or, well, plus seventh after Rio and the kids), and the gesture’s a nice one, but Beth is instantly distracted by helping Ruby get the food out or with Jane and Marcus inevitably causing havoc, and so Lucy ends up wallflowering, watching everyone else just - - know each other, right? 

And maybe Krystal sees her and maybe she’s a few drinks in already, so it’s not like it takes much to grab another cup of spiked eggnog and tumble against the wall beside Lucy. And maybe it’s awkward at first, because Lucy’s sort of weird, but maybe Krystal kind of likes that, and maybe Lucy compliments Krystal’s ugly snowman earrings, and Krystal really does think Lucy’s reindeer sweater is cute, and maybe Lucy falls a little in love when Krystal sings bawdy Christmas songs, her arm slung over Ruby’s shoulder, and Krystal falls a little in love when Lucy is unfairly good at drunk pictionary, and maybe it feels like they’ve known each other a lot longer than a night (and maybe they want to make sure they will). 

2. Mick x Mary Pat. 

Okay, okay, okay. Hear me out. 

So it finally happens. Rio finds out who Mary Pat is, what she’s done – that she’s Beth’s rotten egg – and y’know, Rio isn’t playing around anymore. He wants to send Beth a message, and what better way to do that than to handle the third person she couldn’t after Turner and Boomer? So he sends Mick off with an order.

And so Mick watches for a few days – keeps an eye on her schedule, her routine, carving out a plan to handle her as smoothly as possible (he’s not Rio after all, he doesn’t hand guns to women he’s just kidnapped, y’know?) – and starts to get a sense of her. Sure, maybe he feels a little bad. She has a lot of kids, y’know? And always seems pretty frazzled, at the end of her rope, but sort of sweet. She goes to church, sings in a choir, makes pancakes from a box, sure, but she adds both choc chips and blueberries which is a pretty good combo, and maybe it’s hard to believe she’s swept up in all of this, but then it was hard to believe Mrs Boland and that sweet girl from Paper Porcupine had been too. 

Still, Mick knows what he’s doing, y’know? 

He’s not Rio. He’ll finish the job.

So he steals into her house late at night, moving down to her bedroom, intending to take her outside, handle her away from the kids at least, when suddenly a wild Mary Pat appears! Brandishing a huge knife. 

Mick staggers back! Alarmed, and Mary Pat thrusts it at him, knowing exactly how long he’s been watching her and what does he think she is??? NEW to this??? She worked with the FBI! Okay, not --  not worked with them, but y’know, an agent was on her case for a while, and Mary Pat is not as stupid as her Uncle Larry told her that one time, and okay, Mick thinks, staggering back into his seat, eyes fixed on the knife Mary Pat is waving around at him. 

You wanna talk this out? 

It’s the wrong thing to say, because no, she doesn’t especially, and they just sort of stare at each other for a minute, trying to figure out what happens next when Billy wakes up and trots down the hallway, and he’s had a bad dream about the bad man, and for a minute, Mick thinks he’s talking about him, but then Mary Pat says something about how Boomer won’t ever step foot in this house again, and with the way she’s holding that knife, Mick is inclined to believe her. 

And then, well, Billy asks for pancakes. 

So that’s how Mick ends up eating pancakes with Mary Pat and three of her four kids at 2 in the morning, and y’know, he’s not a total asshole. He’s going to stay and help her clean up afterwards, and maybe it’s sort of nice, now that she’s put the knife down (although it is still in reaching distance, and honestly, he respects that), now that his gun’s back in his pants. 

And well, he can’t exactly kill a woman who just made him pancakes, so he figures next time, only next time, Mary Pat’s already cooking, and then the time after that, she’s already set him a plate, and maybe the time after that, she kisses him, and maybe the time after that, he kisses her first, and at least when Rio asks, Mick can just give him a look, because it isn’t like he doesn’t have his own batshit crazy mother of four he can’t kill. 

3. Rhea x Phoebe. 

So, y’know. Phoebe’s good at her job. 

Phoebe knows how to do a stakeout, to keep tabs, to collect intel. She revels in every part of the chase, every part of the puzzle, every part of the game of it all, because she knows that what she’s doing is right, she’s cleaning up the streets! Making the world a better place! But - - okay, she’ll be the first to admit that she already finds her marks exhausting.

Not so much Hill and Marks. They’re sort of fun to keep tabs on (and lowkey, Phoebe really does maybe daydream sometimes about what it might be like to sit on the couch and watch bad reality shows with them, drinking cheap wine and creamy, herb crusted cheeses). Even Boland is kind of awesome when she’s not with him. 

Because the thing is, as soon as Boland and the Big Kahuna are together, everything just gets a little - - hm. What’s the word for it? 

(”Nothing like watching a crime lord pull pigtails,” Henry had said on one stakeout, headphones on as they’d watched from afar as Big Kahuna had swung in close to Boland, said something that made her flush red and try to stamp on his foot. “Can’t wait until they graduate to passing notes. At least then there might be something we can use.”) 

And, well. It’s not like he’s wrong.

So maybe she starts to get bored of watching the highschool antics of them (as has everyone else, she thinks, if the looks on their faces is anything to go by - including the hitman clearly trying to take one, or both of them out [and please, a little part of Phoebe thinks, watching as Big Kahuna drags a finger across the back of Boland’s knuckles, and Boland wait until he’s gone to order the most expensive liquor in the bar to Big Kahuna’s tab]). Maybe that makes her dig a little deeper. 

Maybe that’s how she finds herself watching an under-9′s soccer game in a fold-out chair beside Big Kahuna’s baby mama. (She tells her she’s researching, so it’s not technically a lie, even if the cover of starting to coach a team of her own in the fall is a thin one).

And okay, maybe they hit it off. Which is kind of cool, Phoebe thinks, because it turns out Rhea is kind of cool (how she put up with Big Kahuna is a total mystery to her), and y’know, she’s actually pretty? LIke, pretty pretty. And nice, and totally normal, and maybe they get a coffee after the game, and catch a movie on the weekend, and maybe sometimes Phoebe forgets to fish about Big Kahuna at all, but that’s an easy mistake to make, and maybe Henry gives her a Look when he hears about it, but it’s nothing, Phoebe thinks.

She’s just doing her due diligence. 

Being thorough, y’know? 

I mean, who even knows when information could come out, and Phoebe’s just laying the groundwork anyway, she thinks, watching the line of Rhea’s neck, the purse of her lips, blinking rapidly when Rhea leans across the table, the curve of her breast visible beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, and says: “I know you’re a fed.” 

And Phoebe splutters as Rhea keeps leaning forwards. 

“I’m not going to tell you anything about him.” 

And what can Phoebe say except okay, something in her chest tightening at - - at what, Phoebe has no idea. Just knows that Rhea’s so close she can feel the other woman’s breath on her cheek.  

“I just want to be clear about that,” she tells her. “If we’re going to do this.” 

And Phoebe blinks, owlish at Rhea, pulse rapid and mouth dry as she asks: “Do what?” 

And well, it turns out Phoebe likes Rhea even more when she’s kissing her.

4. Greg x Dr. Josh.

Okay, so maybe two things happen. 

Maybe it’s a party of something when Annie finally turns around and tells Greg about kissing her therapist, and honestly, Greg shouldn’t be surprised. This is what Annie does, after all, and telling her off never really gets him anywhere, so he pours them both another drink, and - - sure, maybe another. 

Then maybe a few more. 

Because it’s just like they’re in this loop, y’know? Him and her. Like she fucks up and it’s not like she expects him to clean up after her (he’s not Beth), but it’s like there’s something in Annie where she needs him to know about it, and that just really gets to him sometimes, because like, Annie’s not his responsibility just because they have a kid together. Besides, he has Nancy now, so it’s not like he needs Annie, and even thinking about Nancy sort of makes him want to go and find her, so then he’s drunkenly stumbling around this party, looking for that cape of perfect blonde hair, and okay, maybe that’s when the second thing happens.

Annie. Nancy. Closet. Necking. Maybe a shirt’s off? There’s a lot of like - - like mouths and hand stuff and Greg slams the door shut and maybe goes and lies on the grass outside for a while. 

And okay, maybe it’s not a surprise either. Maybe this is also what Annie does too, but still, he stews on it, and then stews on it some more, and so what if he interrogates Ben for this therapist’s address, because like - - hadn’t Annie been going to him for months? How could this guy make everything worse. 

And sure, maybe storming into the guy’s office, drunk on anger this time instead of beer, isn’t the best idea, but he’s just - - pissed, y’know? And maybe he yells at the guy about where he gets off, kissing patients. Making his patients kiss his wife, and okay, the guy’s pale at first, but then is sort of nice, and they sit on the beanbags and talk for a bit about Hurricane Annie, and actually, he’s finished work for the day, so maybe they should go get a beer or whatever? 

And maybe later, when Josh drops a nervous hand to his knee and awkwardly closes the distance between them, when Greg’s kissing back, he does sort of wonder if he and Annie won’t always be pulling from the same pool. 

5. Turner x Noah. 

Come on. We all saw s2. There’s no way Turner didn’t offer a, ahem, hand to help Noah get over Annie. 

[owl-noire]

Say Your Prayers: A Reservoir Dogs Fic (1/3)

Fandom: Reservoir Dogs Pairing: None? But like, some. Honestly, this fic isn’t about romance. Summary: It's a few days after their latest heist, and Freddy never showed at the rendezvous. Larry doesn't think much of it--delays happen--until somebody leaves a photograph at the hotel room door. The kid's in trouble. And in their line of work, "trouble" can lead to "dead" very, very fast.

Ao3

They made a narrow escape, but all escapes are narrow when bullets start flying, and considering none of them found their mark, Larry decides it might have been a good day after all. Whatever made Joe decide ripping off a drug lord was worthwhile, he'll never know. Must've been some bad blood between them. And if the blood is sour enough to piss off Joe Cabot, then it's sour enough to piss off the rest of the boys. But hey: job's done, nobody died, and now Larry, Mr. Brown, and Mr. Pink are safely at the rendezvous.

It's an old hotel. Mr. Brown was--and still is--ecstatic about the old-timey elevator with the cage and crank. There's an operator, too. Larry doesn't like thinking about the margin of human error, about how it would take one easy mistake for the cage to plummet, but he pushes it aside. He's calm. Has to be. Next to him, Mr. Pink is a nervous wreck.

"Fuck man," Pink says. "I fuckin' hate elevators. Couldn't we have just taken the stairs?"

Larry gives him a look. "We're on the tenth floor."

"Your point?"

"Hey," Mr. Brown points out. "Look down. You can't even see the floor anymore."

Pink groans and shuts his eyes. "I'm gonna die."

"No you're not," Larry tells him, a little exasperated. Still, the words remind him of a similar time, a while ago now, but with Mr. Orange--Freddy. Larry tries not to think about that day too often. Kid nearly bled to death in his arms, and that sort of thing messes with the head.

The elevator finally pulls up to the tenth floor. Mr. Pink is the first one out as soon as the gate opens, followed by Brown, then Larry. He tips the operator and lingers back a second.

"We're waiting on one more," he says. "He's a scrawny little shit and probably wearing a jacket that's way too big for him." Larry hands the operator another five. "Can't miss him. Make sure he knows where we are."

The operator, some guy in his thirties who looks like he hates his job, nods. "Sure thing."

Larry starts after Mr. Pink and Mr. Brown. He never bothered learning their real names, and they never bothered telling him. They know his, but that's mostly because Larry hates that anonymous crap. But he played along for Joe and they all walked away happy. Better than things usually go.

"I can't believe I have to share a room," Mr. Pink is muttering to himself. He sees Larry walking down the hall and gestures at him. "How come you get one to yourself and I'm stuck with this sack of shit?"

"Oh excuse me, are you the one paying the bill?" Larry shoves past Pink toward his door. "No? Alright then. Quit complaining."

He's already into the room when he hears Pink mumble something under his breath. Larry doesn't really care what he says. He shuts the door behind him and sits on the bed with a groan. He's absolutely exhausted, now that the adrenaline from the job's worn off. And, to make things worse, there's a small knot forming in his stomach. Call it instinct, but he only gets it when something isn't right. Joe would call him paranoid. Freddy, too. But considering neither one of them are here, Larry's left to his own thoughts.

Freddy hadn't shown at the rendezvous. Mr. Brown and Mr. Pink had, both within five minutes of each other. Larry hopes the kid is just late. After all, it was the first job he'd pulled since... well, since the diamonds.

Talk about shock. Larry could still remember how his goddamn heart nearly stopped when Freddy told him the truth, that he was a cop and was supposed to tip off others to the heist, but hadn't. And then he'd taken a bullet meant for Larry, shot by some good samaritan trying to play cowboy.

Larry would be lying if he said he hadn't considered leaving Freddy behind. He'd betrayed him--and that stung. But hell, the kid had saved his life and was bleeding out and goddammit, Larry couldn't. He just couldn't.

But that was months ago. Water under the bridge, though convincing Joe of that had taken every ounce of persuasion Larry could summon. But he had. Somehow, he had, and here they all are. Safe. Happy. Alive.

He sighs and leans back on the bed. He'll give Freddy another couple hours, then see if Joe heard anything. Any luck, the kid's already on his way.

.

.

.

Wherever he is, it's dark. Dark, wet, and cold. All the worst things anybody can imagine after they've just been hit.

Freddy groans and tries to shift into a more comfortable position. He can't see anything, but he can feel. Oh God, he can feel... and it's like somebody's dragged him through a meat grinder. He can hear something dripping. Dimly, he hopes it's water and not blood from... from... well, wherever it is he's bleeding. Because he's definitely bleeding; he just can't figure out why.

It takes him a moment, but he eventually realizes he's sitting. Okay, that's a bit of a nicer statement than reality. Reality is, he's tied to a chair. Ropes dig into his wrists and ankles, and he can already feel the beginnings of burns. He tries to flex his fingers, but the moment he moves them, pain flares and he cries out. The sound is muffled by the gag stuffed in his mouth, but it's there nonetheless. Something's broken. He doesn't know if it's his fingers, hands, or all of the above, but whatever it is, it hurts like a bitch.

"You're awake."

He hears the voice, deep and slow and way too close to his ear. Without much thought, he shies away from it--and only then does he realize he's been blindfolded. His chest constricts.

Blind. Can't move. Can't talk. This isn't good.

"I was wondering when that'd happen," the voice continues. "Thought maybe my boys roughed you up a little too much."

Freddy takes a deep breath, in and out. He needs to stay calm. Staying calm will help him. Staying calm will keep him alive. Staying calm is what Larry would do.

"Me and Joe Cabot go back a long time." The voice is circling him now, vulture-like. "Never thought he'd have the guts to make a move on me. After all..."

Something nudges Freddy's injured hands, and he can't help his scream as white hot agony flares beneath his skin.

"... I always move back."

Once the pain fades, Freddy tries to think. This must be the drug lord he and the guys had ripped off. This must be Big Frank Muller.

Panic threatens to overwhelm him for a moment. He'd heard about Big Frank from his time in the force--and the guy's nothing if not ruthless. Twisted. Tortures and kills for pleasure. Nobody's caught him because none of his victims survive long enough to get an ID. And Freddy's absolutely powerless, completely at his mercy... or lack thereof.

"Let's get down to business," Big Frank says casually, and Freddy's head snaps sideways as a big, meaty fist slams into his jaw. "Gotta make you look pretty for the camera."

Camera? Freddy thinks dizzily, then feels the skin on his cheek split with another punch. What the hell is this guy going on about?

When he can focus again, having lost count of how many hits he took, his face is throbbing and undoubtedly swollen. He hears the click, then winding of a disposable camera, and has maybe two seconds to breathe before Big Frank starts talking.

"Cabot's going to love this," he murmurs. There's a pause, during which Freddy can feel his heart racing, and then: "Dimmick, too."

Freddy's blood goes cold for a split second before he starts struggling. Now? Now he understands. He shouts against the gag, choice words and insults that would make his mother roll over in her grave. But they're useless. The next thing he knows, something hits the back of his head and he begins to lose consciousness again.

Larry, he thinks before he goes under. Stay safe. Please stay safe.

.

.

.

It's roughly around eight pm when Larry wakes up to a knock on his door. He groans and wipes the sleep from his eyes, then checks the phone. There aren't any messages. He frowns and sits up, the knot in his stomach coming back with a vengeance. The front desk is supposed to call him when Freddy shows--and they haven't yet. He doesn't know what that means, if it means anything at all, but he can't help but think something's wrong.

"Goddammit, White, open up!" Mr. Pink's voice sounds muffled through the door as he pounds on it again. There's also something lacing his tone that Larry doesn't like. It sounds too much like raw panic.

That's enough for Larry to fumble into motion. He stands and makes his way over to the door, undoing the deadbolt and wrenching it open in time for Pink to walk through uninvited. His shoulders are bunched with worry, and he's followed quickly by Mr. Brown.

"What the hell's going on?" Larry demands as he shuts the door and refastens the lock.

"Did you hear anybody out in the hall?" Pink asks, nervously wringing his hands together. "Because we didn't, but somebody was definitely there, man. Somebody was definitely fucking there and they left that fucking picture and shit shit shit!"

Larry holds his hands up and grabs Pink's arm to stop him from pacing. "Slow down. What in fuck's name are you talking about?"

Mr. Pink gives him a look that Larry doesn't like, but says nothing. Instead, it's Mr. Brown who speaks as he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a photograph.

"He's talking about this," Brown says distantly.

He hands Larry the picture--slow, as if Larry will chop his hand off if he's not careful. At first, Larry isn't sure what he's seeing--it's dark and his mind doesn't want to believe anything anymore. But then the clouds clear, and his breath hitches painfully.

Freddy. Tied to a chair. Beaten and bloody. Blindfolded and gagged. And the look on his face... the pain on his face...

His hands move on their own accord, and Larry flips the photo over. Scrawled on the back, written in cheap ink and even cheaper handwriting, is today's date, followed by a crude drawing of a clock. It doesn't take him long to get the message, and he feels himself going cold all over.

"This is fucked up, man," Mr. Pink hisses as he starts pacing again. "This is so fucked up." He turns to Mr. Brown. "It's fucked up."

Brown nods in silent agreement. Then he turns toward Larry, who's flipped the picture over again. He can't stop looking at it. He feels Brown's eyes on him, followed by Pink's, and the scrutiny and quiet fear threaten to overwhelm him.

But he regains control. And when he speaks, he's suddenly not Larry Dimmick anymore. He's Mr. White--and his boy's just been stolen.

"Get Joe on the phone. Now."

Listen: I have no self-control. 

[adrenaline-roulette]

I am flesh and I am bone

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Reader (Female) Word count: 4k+ Warnings: Bit of teen angst, underage drinking, drunk, vomiting, partying.  (Nothing major, no one gets hurt.)

Read chapter one here

Chapter Two: Do you walk in the shadow of men

(Before you say anything about the Gif choice, it actually works for this chapter! Like not until way down the bottom, but it’s actually really fitting!!!)

“So, are you coming on Saturday or not?” Amber sighed, sitting atop the desk you had settled yourself at in the school library. Your pen gliding across your page easily, as you worked on your history essay. It wasn’t due for another week and a half, but after you had received an email reply from Uncle Larry last night, you found yourself desperate to get the paper written. The essay was to be written on a famous woman from any time in history of your choosing. At first you worried that it would be considered cheating, but after a while, you realised that it really wasn’t and that it was just doing research in a different way. With all the resources at your disposal, you had decided to write your essay on Sacajawea. After exhausting the knowledge you already had of her from the many conversations over the years, you turned to the horse’s mouth instead, along with Rebecca. Two days ago, you had emailed Larry with a list of detailed questions you hoped Sacajawea could answer for you, with a few others aimed at Rebecca, asking her what she thought so far of what you had written. You had printed the reply the moment you saw it, folding it up and slipping it into your work book, so to read it thoroughly later.

Looking up at Amber, you almost consider changing your plans for the weekend, but you just can’t bring yourself to do so. If she knew the truth as to why you spent so much time at the museum, she would understand your love for the place, but she didn’t, and never would. So, to her, it was just a building, full of inanimate objects. “I can’t Ambs, if it was any other weekend then you know I’d go with you. But I just can’t this time.”

Your friend rolls her eyes, pouting down at you, before closing the textbook you had open on the desk. “You do realise how big a deal this is yeah? Like, were middle schoolers who’ve been invited to high school party! This will likely never happen again…”

You close your eyes tightly, keeping them shut as you count to five slowly in your mind. Of course you knew what you were turning down, an offer like this only came around once, and as Amber had said the day you had been invited, you’re only fourteen once! But as you had told her on the day, the party was being held on a weekend when you would be staying with Uncle Larry. You were torn, a part of you desperately desired to go to the party, to hang out with high schoolers, pretend to be cool for a night, and maybe, just maybe you actually would be cool. That way, high school would be entirely different to how things were for you now. The other part of you though, she wanted to do well in school, to get high grades, to get through high school and then go to college, and to do so you had to study hard. “I know Ambs, but I can’t go. You have a good time though, yeah?”

Amber sighs heavily, nodding her head slowly as she pulls her way off your desk, trudging back through the library and out to the courtyard. She would play at being disappointed with you for a day or two, but it wouldn’t last, it never did. Amber knew how much your weekends at the museum meant to you, and although she never quite understood why you enjoyed your time there so much, she did respect your choices. With a final flourish of your pen, you packed up your books, shoving them into your bag, before hoisting it over your shoulder, and heading to the bus.

<<ooo>>

It was the second Saturday of the month, which meant your first night at the museum, Ahk had awoken as the final magic tendrils of his tablet ebbed away for the next twelve hours. He stretched and dressed fully as always, though he was surprised when he did not see you waiting for him as usual. The Anubis statues stood stoic by his tomb, showing no signs of having moved, other than when they had first awoken, clearly there was no threat, otherwise they would be at arms, ready to defend their King. Slowly, he made his way out of the tomb and down the corridor, passing the miniatures who appeared to be plotting something together. Were he not in the process of finding you, then he would pause to assess the plan the group had come up with, but as he was doing something else, he left this as a problem for Larry to solve when the time came.

Ahk wasn’t angry when he found you sitting with Sacajawea, Teddy standing close by, smiling at the stories his lady love told you. You had a notebook open on your lap, your pen scribbling notes down at lightning speed. No, not angry, perhaps disappointed? The two of you had never explicitly stated that on the days you came to the museum, that you would be there when he woke up, in fact, from what Ahk could recall, it was never something you had discussed at all. It just happened to be the routine you had both fallen into. He stood by the exhibit entrance, watching as you absorbed the words your interviewee spoke, like a sponge. No detail was too little, you always wanted to know everything. A presence by his side caused Ahk to turn, coming face to face with Nicky, the man who stood where a young boy once had. Time truly was a mystery to him, and an ache appeared in his chest as a thought struck him. Nicky would likely be headed off for larger scale adventures soon, leaving the city to find himself as young men often did. Larry, well even he was beginning to tire of working nights, the dark circles beneath his eyes often more prominent than they used to be. Rebecca spent less time at the Museum during the nights now, she had other work to focus on, work which she found difficult to complete during the hustle and bustle of the museum. Then there was you, no longer the young one he had rescued years prior, you were now fourteen, Ahk had taken care to keep tracks of the dates more carefully after your tenth birthday, ensuring that he was the first in the museum to wish you a happy birthday when you turned eleven the following year. From what he recalled of Nicky at that age, then you would likely be wanting to spend more time with your friends, living your young adult years fully, before moving on to new schools, to become the woman you were destined to be. It would then be back to square one, not only for him, but for the other museum exhibits too. There would be a new night guard, who would bring along new family and friends, only for the cycle to come full circle again, and again. That right there, that was the true power of his Tablet, it was not a gift as the other exhibits believed, no it truly was a curse. Forcing him to watch those he grew to care about, leave.

Nicky clears his throat, and Ahk blinks rapidly, clearing his head of the gloomy thoughts which were plaguing his mind. “I’d be careful around Y/N tonight if I were you. She’s been in a right mood since she arrived this morning.

Ahk cast his gaze to you once more, noticing the lack of animation in your features when you spoke, something which he had not picked up on when first finding you here. “Do you know what has happened?”

Nicky shrugged his broad shoulders, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I heard her talking to Rebecca over lunch. Sounds like girl drama. Something about a high school party that she was invited to, but she decided not to go so she could spend the weekend here, doing assignments, and spending time with everyone.”

A dark cloud falls over Ahkmenrah’s crystalline eyes, his features falling into thinly veiled anger. “She is giving up her youth to be here with us?” The words came out in a harsh whisper, and it took Nicky by surprise, in all the years the two had known each other, not once had he heard such a voice come from the usually soft-spoken King. “You live but once, why waste her time with those who will live to see eternity?”

Nicky sighs, yet another shrug forming on his shoulders. “She’s doing it for her future, she wants to go places, put all that history knowledge she has to good use. I think there’s been mention of becoming a Docent, like Rebecca. She’s trying to focus on her studies. I think she’s worried that if she lets herself take a break for longer than five minutes, then all the information stored in her brain, it’ll all just vanish.” Nicky mimes an explosion around his head with his hands, chuckling quietly to himself.

“That is preposterous, Y/N is one the most, if not the most intelligent people I have met. She is still so young, she must find a way to enjoy her life that does not revolve around the dead.” Ahk breathes out, watching you intently once more. “This party she declined to attend, was it for a special occasion?”

“I doubt it. It was a high school party, I’d say she’s just bummed out that she won’t get to try her first cigarette or shot of vodka until she’s older.”

“Vodka, that is the Russian alcohol, correct? Nicky nods, smiling lopsidedly as he rests his back against the wall behind them. He could be wrong, but he knew that’s what his first high school party had been like, and he doubted much had changed in the few years since then. “Would you be able to procure a bottle of this beverage?” Ahk asks quietly.

“Hm? Oh sure, Larry and Rebecca have a bottle in their drink’s cabinets. It’s been in there for years, they won’t notice if it’s missing.”

“In that case, would you care to join me in the staff room tomorrow at dusk, along with Y/N?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll make sure we’re both there when you wake up.” Nicky grins, as the two men continue watching you interact with Sacajawea.

<<ooo>>

Nicky gripped your wrist tightly as he dragged you through the museum, Ahk’s tablet had not yet awoke the exhibits, so it was just the two of you and Larry currently walking the halls. “Will you hurry up please?” He groans, as he pulls you along further behind him.

“No I won’t. Not until you tell me what’s going on?” You grumble, dropping as much weight into your feet, so Nicky struggled further with pulling you along.

“I already did! We’re going to the staff room!”

“You answered part of my question, I wanted to know where we are going, and why.”

“There’s just something we have to do in there alright. Now will you please walk just a little bit faster?”

There was no use in pressing Nicky into answering you further, it was like talking to a brick wall at times. Reluctantly, you picked up your pace, matching Nicky’s long strides down the corridor. “Fine, but this had better not take too long. I’ve still got heaps left to do on my report, and I promised I’d meet up with Sacagawea again tonight.”

You both pause just outside of the staff room, the door closed and only accessible by those who knew the pin code. As Nicky punched in the four-digit code, you leant against the wall, arms folded across your chest. “You don’t have heaps to do for the report. I heard you talking to Rebecca about it this morning. You’re practically finished with it.”

You frown across at Nicky, poking your tongue out at him in retaliation. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

The door swings open, and Nicky enters first, with you following close behind. “Stop complaining for five minutes and sit down. Ahk’s coming soon too, and then we both have a surprise for you.”

You frown slightly at Ahk’s name, your heart beating more erratically. When had you started feeling like this at just the mere mention of his name? You had often thought of the Pharaoh as attractive, however he was always viewed in the same light as a celebrity, pretty to look at from afar, but never yours to have. “Nicky, I’ve never liked your surprises. The last one you gave me, was an impromptu water pistol fight, where I was unarmed.”

Nicky laughs at this, shaking his head fondly at the memory. “No, it’s nothing like that, I promise! This is to help you get over your bad mood.”

“What bad mood? I’m not in a bad mood!”

The door swings open, and gentle footsteps pad into the staff room. “You definitely seemed to be yesterday. I didn’t see you at all.” Ahkmenrah observed, and you felt the life drain from your body.

Had you intentionally avoided Ahk yesterday? Yes. And were you avoiding him for stupid reasons? Also, yes. Amber had gone into details with you over what she was expecting the party to be like this weekend, she was gushing over how excited she was to finally snog one of the cute football players from the high school. While she talked, you couldn’t help your mind but wander, of course you agreed, some of the football team were very attractive, and if you happened to land on one of them while playing spin the bottle, then you wouldn’t complain. However, you couldn’t help but imagine a certain ancient Egyptian pharaoh, sitting cross legged on the floor, in a circle with your friends, and when it came time for you to spin the bottle, it would land on him. You could almost imagine how it would feel to kiss Ahkmenrah, his calloused hands cupping your face, warm fingers gentle against your cheeks….

“Hello, Earth to Y/N? You still with us?” Nicky grins, snapping his fingers in front of your clouded gaze.

“Fuck, sorry just kinda tired. Sorry Ahk, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just needed to get my project finished.” You shrug, trying desperately to ignore the blush which was slowly creeping up your neck.

“There is no need to apologise, your studies are important to you, I understand this.” Ahk smiles, moving through the staff room, to settle himself on one of the seats, while Nicky does the same to a separate chair.

You gaze between the two men, both grinning at each other. “So, what’s the plan here then? Because if it’s just to sit around all night, then I’m gonna head….”

Nicky leaps from his chair, racing to the kitchenette, opening one of the lower cabinets that seemed to only house spare napkins and cups for the water cooler. As he turns to face you both again, he presents a rather large unopened bottle of vodka, and multicoloured plastic shot glasses. “It’s time to party my dudes!”

Ahk is grinning, his eyes sparkling as he turns to look at you, drinking in your surprised yet grinning face. “What? I don’t…. Why are we having a party?” You stammer out, unable to form a full sentence.

“It was brought to my attention, that you are missing out on a rather crucial moment of your young life. Nicky mentioned that you are missing a party so to spend your time with us. Is that correct?”

Ahk’s eyes are locked with yours, and you can feel yourself grow dizzy. ‘Just answer him dammit! Stop staring, stop imagining him kissing you. Not only is he technically five years older than you, he is also thousands of years older than you! Snap out of it!’ Your internal monologue is cut off by your own voice. “Just a stupid high school party. It really isn’t that important. I’m sure there’ll be other parties.” You shrug.

“That is beside the point! As Nicky explained to me, tonight should’ve been about you having new experiences, by meeting new people, and trying new things.”

“Trying alcohol for example!” Nicky chimes in, before plonking himself back down on his seat, unscrewing the cap on the vodka bottle.

“Christ! Ahk, Nicky! I’m fourteen, I’m not allowed to drink! What if Larry walks in on us and see’s this? I‘ll never be allowed to come back here!” Pointing an accusatory finger at Nicky, “Larry will literally murder you!” Turning a hard glare to the shocked Ahk, “And you! Well, I’m not sure what Larry’ll do to you, but I’m sure he’ll find a way to punish you too!” At this point in your protesting, you had stood up, hands fisted at your sides, and a glare piercing your eyes.

“Calm down Y/N. I promise you, Larry will never find out! We’ll have a couple of shots, put the bottle back, then continue in with our night as usual.” Nicky offers, holding his hands out, palms facing your way in a show of surrender.

“I did not mean to offend you young one, I thought perhaps this was something you had wanted. If it is not, please forgive me. It was my idea, do not take your anger out on Nicky.” Ahk sighs, looking up at you through his thick lashes.

You want to be annoyed at both men, want to tell them off for trying to pull something this stupid off. But with Ahk looking at you the way he was, you felt all the fight leave your body. “It’s fine. It’s nice that you thought about me and planned this.”

Ahk smiles, leaning forward and collecting the plastic wrapped shot glasses. He pierces the plastic with his nail, and tears the remainder of the wrapping away, slipping three glasses free. “Would you join me, and enjoy a drink?”

Nicky eagerly pours himself and Ahk a shot, before watching you expectantly. “Alright. But just one.”

<<ooo>>

Hours passed, and you were only vaguely aware of how dramatically the once full bottle of vodka had dropped in contents. Your warning of one shot had quickly vanished after you realised the alcohol was caramel flavoured, shot after shot went down far too easily, not only for yourself, but for Ahk and Nicky too! Nicky himself seemed to be faring reasonably well, he was after all quite a bit older than you, and was legally old enough to drink, so he clearly had a higher tolerance than you. Ahk on the other hand, he was nearly as bad as you were.

Ahk had made a declaration at the beginning of the evening, explaining how he would remain the most sober out of all of you. He was a king once, he knew how to tolerate his alcohol, when he was alive, he drank delicious wines all the time. Clearly, alcohol had changed since Ancient Egyptian times, and had become more potent.  Or at least, that was what you assumed had happened. How else were you supposed to explain the once Pharaoh dancing to the spice girls in his tomb, while you and Nicky sat back and watched in glee. “Dance with me young one!” Ahk grinned, spinning over to you, where you were curled up on the ground watching him intently. He reached a hand out to you, which you obligingly took.

Your stomach was doing flips, but it was hard to tell if that was from the vodka, or from holding Ahk’s hand. You hadn’t touched him since the very first day you met. Touching always felt like something you weren’t allowed to do, and a part of you worried that if you did reach out to him, that he would crumble away, leaving you with the memory of a vivid dream where the museum had come alive…. “I’m no good at dancing.” You slur, as he pulls you further into his tomb, where he begins dancing with his entire body. Whereas you opt for a timid foot shuffle, and occasional shoulder roll. The room was spinning, you had stood up far too quickly, and it was taking your eyes time to catch up with your brain.

“I am sure that is a lie, here, let me show you.” Ahk offers, once again taking your hand, which he then uses to spin you into his chest, locking one hand on your waist to keep you still after the turn. “Are you okay?” Ahk asks, eyes locking on yours as you sway against him. Your eyes are unfocused, and your forehead is sweating.

You tilt away from him, lifting your chin enough to look up at the Pharaoh equally drunk as you. “I don’t feel well –“ Is all you get, before you turn your face away from him, double over and proceed to empty the contents of your stomach onto the floor beside your feet.

Ahk is still holding you firmly around the waist, though his body has visibly become tense. It takes Nicky a few moments to realise what has happened, though in the time it takes him to process the events, Ahk has swooped into action. He bends his knees, and dips down to be closer to your height. “Close your eyes for a moment.” His voice is gentle, yet authoritative and you find yourself compelled to do as he says. In one swift motion, he has one arm under the bend of your knees, and the other supporting your back. He doesn’t have to ask, but you know it’ll make things easier, so you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face against his broad shoulder.

The young king marches out of his tomb, cradling you safely against his chest as he searches for the nearest bathroom. Bathroom’s were not something Ahk had a need for now, so he had never paid attention to where they were located in the museum, had it not been for the small signs identifying them, hanging from the ceiling, he may never have known where to turn. Ahk fumbles for a few moments as he attempts to hold you, whilst opening the door, it takes hi four attempts but finally, the door swings open, making way to a tiled floor of the washroom.  “Here, I’m going to put you on the ground now, are you ready?”

Ahk’s voice is a gentle whisper against the shell of your ear, and had it not been for the churning sensation in your stomach, then you likely would’ve shivered from his close proximity.  Just as he had said, Ahk lowers you to the ground, and you land on shaky legs. The small room was spinning around you, and the bright fluorescent light on the ceiling was not helping you to feel any better. “Oh fuck…”  You groan, before slamming your body into the toilet stall door, dropping to your knees and hunching over the toilet bowl.

“Shhh, you will be fine young one. All will be fine soon.” Ahk offers, rubbing his hand over your back as he crouches down beside you. His fingers catch in the ends of your hair occasionally, though he gently glides through the tangles without causing you any pain.

It felt like hours before your stomach had finally settled down, and your vision no longer swam in circles. Carefully, you pull away from the toilet, falling to your ass and leaning against the stall wall. Ahk is still crouched in his earlier position, though his eyes follow your movements, watching you like a hawke. “I’m sorry Ahk. This wasn’t how you’d planned for this to go I’m sure.” You mumble, tilting your head back so you could look at him fully.

A small smile tugs at his lips, before he too sits on the ground leaning against the wall also. “You have no reason to be sorry young one. If anyone should be apologising, it is me. I had hoped this evening would cheer you up, and help you to enjoy your young life. However, I fear with the way this has ended, that perhaps all I have done is make you feel worse.”

You allow Ahk’s words to sink in, your brain taking far longer than usual to process what he had said. Slowly however, a smile stretches across your lips, and a small bubble of laughter blooms in your chest. “Hey, vomit or no. I had a great night.” You grin, before stretching your legs out in front of you. “And I can’t think of anyone else I would rather get drunk with Ahk.” You nudge your foot against his knee for emphasis on his name, grinning softly at the young man.

<<ooo>>

 Something was changing, that he knew for sure. But what and how, he couldn’t quite tell. For decades now, Ahkmenrah had slept during the day, and awoken at dusk, his sleep however was not what he knew sleep to be when he was alive. His eyes would fall closed, and his breathing would even out, until one final gasp of air left his lungs, and his was plunged into what felt like an eternal black abyss. He was not afraid, despite having no conscious thoughts or even memories in the darkness, he somehow knew not to be afraid.

For the past seven years however, something was different. As dawn rose, the sun creeping its way over the horizon, he would be plunged into the darkness as always, though it did not last. It was almost as if a door in his mind would open, and suddenly, there they were… Dreams. Not memories of his life, but honest to goodness, fantastical dreams.

He had no idea why this was happening, especially now of all times. Nothing had changed, he had been in the same museum for years, and at no stage had he regained his dreams before now. So why now? What could have possibly happened within the past seven years for his dreams to return to him?

Taglist (If you would like to be added let me know!) @lana-loves-stuff​ @polarcrystall @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @ryeosomnia @thenewnightguard @stfuchaase​ @rjwinterfell​

 My MASTERLIST 

[nostalgic-pancakes]

Room 73- Chapter 3/8

The ghost is spoken to, but we also see more character trauma. (at least Virgil and Logan are having an okay time)

Pairings: Implied Thomas/OC, implied sibling-y c!Terrence and c!Valerie, sibling-y Analogical, Creativitwins and Moceit, platonic DLAMPR (soon to have a T in it!), and Romantic husbands Remile! (Also married parents but they don’t have names yet)

Read on AO3!

Word count: 2217

Warnings: References to shifty parenting, unhealthy relationships with food, depression, and of course, the general angst that comes with being yanno... dead for about a century with implications of period-typical sexism and the fallout that death has on your loved ones. Stay safe!

Other notes: Hi! I know this is sooner than usual (and also a bit shorter than usual) but I really wanted to get this out early, because there's two other things I'm working on! A c!Thomas-centric number+1 with friends and side interactions, and a Cartoon Therapy oneshot collection (with only cartoon therapy characters! no sides!) that has found family, Dot and Larry VS the internet, and everyone punting mitchell in the face because he deserves it. You can vote for which one you'd like to see posted FIRST on here! 

Now, sorry for that wall of text- here’s the chapter!

——————————————————————————–

Thomas didn’t have anything even remotely resembling a clue as to how he just did that. He hasn’t been able to so much as move for decades, now. Almost a century!

(The only reason he still knows the time is because classrooms date the boards. Everett is 96, Val 95, Terrence 87. )

But somehow, somehow these highschool kids around Thomas’s (? do ghost years count?) age managed to hear him hiss, and now he can talk to them.

In the words of that one kid here in the fifties who was usually half seas over, “ fucking shit!”

The one with the glasses (Logan? Or was it Nico? Naw, Logan.) is still tapping on the funny small glowing box. A phone, or something. (It looks too small to be a telephone, and it has no wires, but the future is pretty crazy!) and the other one, Janus is looking at the space that he inhabits like it’s on fire. Whatever else is happening today is happening, but the corner that Thomas lives in is definitely not on fire, that’s for sure.

Janus begins to step forward a bit, towards Thomas (!!!), and attempts to touch him. His hand goes through, like most things do (bar the occasional stray acid droplet, but they don’t burn anymore) and he pulls it back slowly.

Logan clears his throat, looking up from his ‘phone’ and at Thomas.

“Hello.” he says cautiously, not daring to hope. But Thomas can’t get the words out anymore, it’s like the single work took too much out of him to say it back. So he tries hissing in the morse code that Daddy taught him and (and he taught Val, because she’s amazing, woman or not) hoping, hoping they’d figure it out.

.... .. (hi)

Janus looks confused, but Logan lights up immediately, tapping frantically on his ‘phone’, until it shows something with morse code translations written on it.

“Could you possibly repeat that?” asks Logan, and he’s beaming, and that face is now one of the nicest faces he’s seen since he died. So Thomas tries again. It saps a little energy out of him, but not enough to really be an issue. Not like talking.

“Hello there, uh… do you have a name?”

- .... --- -- .- ... (Thomas)

“Thomas. That’s a nice name. Is it alright if we ask what year you ar- were from?” That question was unexpected, but one Thomas was willing to answer.

.---- ----. ..--- --... (1927)

“Nineteen twenty-seven”. Huh. Wasn’t this part of town a boy’s military school at some point back then?” asks Logan, and Thomas hisses again to signify the yes. He was a student there, under Pop’s behest, while Val stayed home to get ready for being married, even though she was all of eight years old and barely old enough to start her midwife training with basic first aid.

He wonders if she ever got to join the Red Cross like she’d dreamed to do. He hopes so.

Logan’s still asking questions, but Thomas is getting tired again, and the extra clarity letting him reminisce about his family is not helping at all. He makes a series of somewhat weaker clicks, trying to convey he’s tired, and Janus seems to pick up on it, patting Logan on the shoulder and motioning at the door for them to leave, citing a ‘Virgil and Patton’ (brothers?) as a reason to go soon, anyways. Logan huffs a bit, though clearly as a jest, and they say their goodbyes, probaby, based on their hand movements, but by now, Thomas has faded enough to lose a bit of track.

…

“Hey, Val.”

'___'

“Yeah, this is a gravestone. Didn’t expect you to reply. Well, I was always the talkative one before,a dn I can do it again.”

'___'

“So uh, Hey! It’s me again, Terrence, coming with the daisies as usual. I can’t believe that it’s me doing this, ya doof. It was supposed to be you, Val.”

'___'

“Yeah, I guess I should go back soon. Everett’s cold isn’t getting better, nor worse. I wonder what you’d do.”

'___'

“Yes, love you too. I hope you, Barry and Linda are doing alright up there. We’ll… probably see you soon anyways.”

'___'

“Hey- tell Thomas we said hello, and that we still miss him. All the time. Eighty years should be long enough, but it really isn’t, is it?”

(Tommy isn’t here.) …

“Okay, so you’re saying that the ghost, a literal ass ghost--”

“Language!” chirped Patton. It was starting to become routine. “Sorry Pat but okay, so a ghost talked to you over morse code??!!” Exclaimed Virgil, his tone getting more and more excited by the syllable.

“Yes, I literally just said that Virgil.” huffs Logan, pressing his knuckles to his temple. He loves his twin, but times like this really test his (already dwindling) patience with shenanigans.

“Okay, so what did he tell you??” asks Virgil, looking almost starry-eyes with the sheer level of excitement. It’s been a while since Virgil was this excited about something.

Logan clears his throat and taps Janus’s shoulder, taking him away from something he was talking about with Patton, which was involving hushed voices of some sort. Janus extracts the notebook from one of the many, many button-up pockets in his cloak (Patton is good at economical design, whie Janus handles the drama), after scrambling around for a few seconds trying to locate first the book, then the page, handing it to him very quickly before jumping right back into his conversation with Patton. Logan is mildly perturbed by this action, but tries to ‘roll with it’, as Roman would say if he took the bus.

“His name is Thomas, or at least we’re relatively sure that he’s a he, and he died in nineteen-twenty-seven. He was a student here back when the plot of land that is now Haley-Dove lower and upper secondary was a boy’s military school. He began to exhaust himself around here, so we dropped the questions.” Virgil nods, perusing the notes, scribbly as they are that Logan’s made as if they were a short story written by an author he really respects, like Leigh Bardugo, possibly. It makes Logan oddly happy to think about it that way. Virgil’s eyes keep widening over the course of his reading, to levels that are almost comical. Janus and Patton’s conversation has gotten a bit louder, but not enough to hear, still. At the moment, he can’t really bring himself to care. In the end, the bus stops before Virgil can finish reading, so Logan gives him the navy-covered notebook to keep for now and return for dinner, with the instruction to add in his own commentary and ideas on a different page.

Patton and Janus leave the bus last out of everyone, looking rather perturbed and avoiding each other’s gaze, though they’re still clutching each other’s hands tightly. Logan will likely ask what happened on Monday. For now, Amma is at the bus stop, waving at them. She’s the only Indian woman on the stop, so, decently easy to see. Amma picks up Logan’s bag, even though he’s insisted for years that he’s “adjusted accordingly for years, and does not require any assistance!”. Amma usually just retaliates that he shouldn’t need to get used to something with a rather strange expression, but he’s digressing now.

(She started saying it after middle school, and everything that happened there.)

“Hi!” she exclaims, while taking Logan’s bag. Virgil just has his laptop bag and notebook, with his headphones around his neck. They both smile the same.

“Hey, Amma. How’re you doing?” Practiced. Synced. It works every time, as Amma’s grin gets even wider, causing Virgil to start stimming with his ring and Logan to start flapping his own hands.

“Sooo- how’s your day? I see Logan’s notebook with you, V!”

“It’s for a…” Virgil looks at Logan, quietly betraying the fact that he has no clue what to say. Logan indicates to the lizard along the cobblestone path, and his twin’s expression changes into dawning comprehension, as he quickly finishes his sentence.

“It’s for a report on Lizards, Amma, that I’m doing with Remus. You know, Roman’s brother?” she nods, and then smirks.

“Oh, you mean the boy you have a cruuuuuusssshhhh on?” she teases, and Virgil goes red immediately, batting her hand away from his hair, where she was ruffling it.

Wait- how did Virgil have a crush on Roman? They had been friends for all of two weeks, and did not display any crush-like symptoms such as reddening of face, gushing about the crush for hours or purposely trying to get into more situations with the crush, or even doing simple things like taking an obnoxiously long time on singular texts. To his relief, Virgil shakes his head.

“No, it’s not a crush. He’s a good friend, but no.” he says, a bit more seriously, but not dismissively. To Logan, because Logan can hear those things, he says “Not yet.” Logan does not bring it up yet, because it feels like Virgil might need some process time for that, and besides, they share a room. Logan can grill him later, when Virgil is willing to be teased lightly. Or well, he hopes he’s light enough.

…

Mom and Dad are fighting again.

It’s not like the walls are soundproof, no matter what they seem to think. The argument is pretty typical. Small issue begins with civil conversation, becomes slight aggression as two very different people are unable to see eye to eye, and then someone in the middle of a bout of particularly aggressive mood makes an attack on personality, and then it’s all ‘fuck off’’s and crying.

Yeah. it’s a thing. But Remus and Roman know what to do- it’s the fight law. Headphones on, loud playlist on, door shut and internet in full use to avoid the fact that their parents are incapable of shutting the fuck up. This is fine.

Actually no, that’s what Roman says, but Remus knows it isn’t. Roman’s just too scared of conflict by now to bring it up. And who’s fault might that be, huh? (okay, so maybe Remus is a bit resentful.)

Whatever. It’s not like they’ll stop if he and Roman tell them. They’ve tried before.

The problem is that they’re good people. And parents. They definitely try to be the best parents possible. But Remus (unlike Roman) has never had the illusion that his parents are gods, only to have that slowly broken down over time to see his parents as people. They’ve always been people to him- people who try their hardest, but also fall flat in other areas, areas that also happen to be important.

But he should probably make his way to the kitchen to make some fruit salad. Roman probably isn’t going to eat anything else tonight, with how he seems to be doing. Otherwise, those stomach acids are going to gargle and gurgle till they consume his stomach whole! (it doesn’t feel fun to imagine that, so he stops)

(he’s so angry that those idiots thought it was a fucking joke. It’s something he and Virgil agree on, for sure.)

And if Remus tears the granola packet wrapper a little too harshly? Well, it’s not like anyone’s going to hear it at this rate.

…

Patton and Janus aren’t talking to each other, which is probably the one thing he never expected from them.

But they aren’t, and it’s becoming more concerning by the hour. They’re still hanging out together, currently working on one of their sewing projects- embroidering a hoodie in protection sigils as a paid commission for the witch’s girl, and they seem okay in each other’s presence, but they aren’t talking to each other. Just making overly meaningful eye contact, and looking away as quickly as they met eyes.

Patton in particular seems to be pretty upset, as a marked difference from his usual demeanor. He’s pricking his fingers left and right, something that never usually happens, choosing to hand stitch rather than go ahead with the sewing machine that he got for christmas, which was being used by Janus for the moment. In fact, Emile was about to get him some bandaids when he overheard them speak to each other for the first time since they got back.

“Pat, you can’t keep it in forever. You can't. It’ll kill you.”

Patton isn’t replying.

“It almost killed me, Pat please, please just… say something.” Patton does say something after that, but Emile can’t hear it, and he doesn’t feel like it’s something he’s meant to hear anyway. Janus lightens up after that, and Patton starts talking again, monosyllabically and softly, but Janus seems so relieved, that that must be a good thing.

Emile goes, heart heavy, and decides to speak with Remy about the best ways to show that they’re there for Janus and Patton. They’ve only been living with him for a few months, but they feel like their kids, and Emile (and definitely Remy- he’s the ultimate parent-friend) wants the best for them, and for them to be happy. They didn’t deserve the lot they got.

Hopefully, he and Remy can prove that yes, some things are

[gruntydiecast]

Casting Call: Vector WX-3

Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve written one of these, and now, here comes the second installment of probably my favorite saga to date: the Vector Saga. Thanks to the current situation, the delivery of my car was delayed, but it’s here now, and here we are.

Remember the W8? That wedge-shaped car which I felt was more extreme than the already extreme Lamborghini Countach? It’ll need a worthy successor... and this’ll be it. This... is the Vector WX-3.

First, as usual, a bit of background. The Vector WX-3 was a prototype American sports car manufactured by a company known as Vector Motors, then known as Vector Aeromotive. The car was designed by Gerald “Jerry” Wiegert, founder of Vector Aeromotive. The car was officially known as the AWX-3, standing for Avtech Wiegert Experimental Model 3; the “3” signified that the WX-3 was the third model Vector had made, after the W2 and W8.

The WX-3 was intended to be the successor to the W8, conceived by Wiegert in 1992. The WX-3 was more extreme than the W8 was, featuring three engine configurations, allowing for some ludicrous power that would be even on par with modern hypercar standards.

The beating heart of the WX-3 was intended to be a 7.0L V8 with variable boost for the twin-turbochargers. Yes, this thing had variable boost, just like the W8. This allowed for settings between 600 BHP to a staggering 1,200 BHP, on par with many modern hypercars. The prototypes used the same highly-modified 6.0L Rodeck twin-turbo V8 as seen on the W8.

The car’s interior was also very similar to that of the W8’s, featuring a screen as opposed to analog gauges. The car also featured the same Sony CDX-A2001 ten-disc CD changer gracing the right side of the cockpit as the W8, as well as the same 3-speed Turbo-HydraMatic 425 automatic transmission mated to that beast of an engine; the transmission also had the same fighter aircraft throttle-like device. Vector employees had stated that while the prototypes used the three-across seating arrangement found on certain W8s, it would be more likely that the production WX-3 would use two bucket seats.

The car also featured the same scissor door setup as the W8.

Rear visibility on the WX-3 still wasn’t too great, although it was a marked improvement over the practically non-existent rear visibility of the W8. The rear of the car looks a lot more subdued compared to the front. As usual, it appears the location of the license plate holder was likely an afterthought.

The WX-3 also incorporates what I guess could be considered a very early version of active aero systems, featuring two movable flaps which lifted up when the car was braking, acting as an airbrake.

The WX-3 was first shown off at the 1992 Geneva Motor Show, although at first, strictly a design study, sans engine. The car was originally painted silver. After the car returned from Geneva, a related car joined it: the WX-3R.

The WX-3R was essentially the roadster version of the WX-3, with both sharing mechanical components and similar styling. However, the WX-3R featured dual bucket seats as opposed to the three-abreast seating of the WX-3 and was painted purple.

The WX-3 and WX-3R were then both displayed at the 1993 Geneva Motor Show, with the WX-3 having been repainted into aquamarine; this was done to promote another of Wiegert’s companies, Aquajet, a manufacturer of personal watercrafts, as the Aquajet logo featured aquamarine and purple as its primary colors. In fact, both the WX-3 and WX-3R appeared on the Aquajet website; however it appears the website is currently broken and will require an archival tool such as the Wayback Machine to access.

The WX-3 was intended to be put into production in 1993; however, problems began to surface. 

In 1993, as Wiegert was preparing for production of the WX-3, a rather shady Indonesian company with Bermudan ties named MegaTech forced a hostile takeover of Vector Aeromotive; this ultimately led to the firing of Wiegert from his own company. MegaTech then attempted to produce the WX-3, but Wiegert sued the company and copyrighted his own design, so MegaTech could not produce the WX-3. Ironically, this would also spell the end of the WX-3; only two were produced.

Wiegert eventually regained control of the company and has been working on a new car known as the WX-8 for numerous years now; in fact, it’s been so long we may as well call it developmental hell. The WX-3 and WX-3R also came back under Wiegert’s ownership. However, in order to fund development of the WX-8, Wiegert decided to auction off both the WX-3 and WX-3R at a Sotheby’s auction in 2019; both cars were ultimately auctioned off in mid-January 2019, with the WX-3 fetching $617,500 and the WX-3R fetching $500,000. Both are now in the hands of private collectors.

Prior to the auction, the WX-3 appeared in an episode of the Burke’s Law reboot and was also spotted at various car shows.

Okay, now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, let’s get to the reason why you’re here.

This… is the Hot Wheels version of the Vector WX-3. Named the Vector “Avtech” WX-3 in the Hot Wheels lineup, this casting was first introduced in 1993 as a Vector employee exclusive, as shown above; the car was painted in the silver color that was originally on the actual car. Only 500 of this version was produced. This casting, like many other castings designed throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, was designed by Larry Wood.

A more common version, painted in the purple as seen on the real WX-3R, was released the same year. A version exists of the purple version with normal 5SP wheels.

The WX-3 has a plastic roof which is riveted onto the rear. No back window is present. This casting features notably very few tampos, apart from the Vector logo on the wing and the black semicircle on the door intended to represent the lower window. The side vents are noticeable open and one can peer through them.

For the record, there isn’t very much going on in the rear of this casting either. Just the rear mesh grill, taillamps and triangular exhaust pipes.

The WX-3 has one of the least releases of any supercar or hypercar concept made by Hot Wheels around this period, with only five known releases. The casting was retooled slightly in 1997, with the prominent side vents closed off. This would ironically be the casting’s last release to date, in the Super Show Cars 5-Pack in 1997 (a version exists with open side vents, shown below), alongside the Dodge Viper RT/10, Jaguar XJ220, Avus quattro and Zender Fact 4. A few other combinations of the 5-Pack exist but this is the only one containing the Vector.

As mentioned above, this casting has not been seen since 1997; it has not been featured in any edition of the Final Run Series, but is assumed to have been retired since the casting has not appeared in the mainline for over 20 years and is unlikely to return.

I hope this long writeup has given you a better idea on this turbocharged thrasher, and what is quite possibly my new favorite supercar from the ‘90s; step aside, Ferrari F50. As usual, I’d do something like this any day.

This article is the second in a three-part series I will call The Vector Saga. The series will document the W8, the WX-3, and the history of Vector Motors as a whole.

[nightwingshero]

Claws and Fangs Chapter 3

It had been a couple weeks since the incident in Holland Valley, and I had settled at the station as the newest deputy. I couldn’t exactly complain, I lucked out enough to land Joey Hudson as my partner instead of Pratt. I’ve done more observing than anything as we stayed close to the Henbane and Whitetail region. It made me a bit skittish, wondering what could possibly be in those mountains. Pratt said that when it came to human day-to-day, there was leniency. But that was about it and it didn’t apply to just anyone. I felt there was something just under the surface that I wasn’t aware of, something everyone kept in the shadows.

But we were currently on our way to break up a small dispute. Two conspiracy theorists were causing trouble, and so we were sent out to check up on it. I wasn’t sure exactly where we were going, having only been familiar with the majority of the Henbane region. Climbing up in Hudson’s beat up sheriff’s truck wasn’t something I would’ve ever seen myself doing, and I almost laugh at myself.

“So, where’s this bar again?” I asked as I buckled my seatbelt.

“Holland Valley. Not too far from here. We haven’t really ventured out that way yet, but there’s hardly ever trouble out that way. Less crazies in the valley versus up North.”

“Mmm.” I tap my black-painted fingernails against my leg as I looked out the window. I would beg to defer, but I didn’t say a word, Hudson being unaware of what ran in the darkness of Holland Valley. I was nervous, worried that the second I crossed that damn line, that he would be there, waiting. I knew it was ridiculous, that I was overreacting. But how many wolves would allow a rogue to continue crossing into their territory and show fang without consequences?

It doesn’t take long before we cross the bridge. My wolf stirs, but she stays quiet, understanding that this isn’t the time or place. I do my best to ignore the rush of adrenaline, to fight the urge to just run. It’s exhausting, fighting her more than I ever had before. I felt guilty for it, but I believed it was in our best interest, to keep us both safe.

Hudson turns on the main road, and my eyes widen a bit at the scene as we pull into Fall’s End. Cars are everywhere, as if there’s a celebration going on. People are walking around, the bar looking as if it is overflowing with people. Anxiety begins to set in as I can already tell this is going to be overwhelming. Hudson’s chuckle draws my attention, and I watch as she shakes her head and parks of the side a bit further away from the bar.

“Fucking John Seed.” She muttered with a smirk. “Should have known he’d show his face here.”

“John Seed?” I asked, the name vaguely familiar with me. It felt, and sounded, weird falling from my lips, and Hudson nodded, then motioned ahead of us. I see the back of a dark-haired man standing next to a black mustang. I tisk as I read his personalized license plate reading JSEED. The arrogance behind it was enough to baffle me, my mouth twisting a bit. I almost find it amusing at the trench coat he’s wearing, but I can’t make out much else, other than he’s accompanied by a woman and a male, all laughing together merrily.

“Yeah, him and Adelaide Drubman are good friends. They deal with real estate, him being a lawyer and her being an agent, so they work together often. They’re pretty tight.”

I remembered then that Addie had mentioned something to Rowan and me about him, but I never dug into it. He didn’t really seem relevant or important enough to. “Addie suggested us moving to the Henbane to avoid him.” I replied, throwing her a questioning look.

Hudson laughed. “Yeah, because that’s her territory. She doesn’t let him in easily, she has dibs. She works under the table now and then, for those who need it. We kinda look the other way, because honestly, we know people need it. Now, Holland Valley is different. This is his territory. You gotta go through Johnny for any legal work. He’s by the books. He also does some work with us at the station. Best attorney we have, comes from Atlanta.”

Hudson opens her door as I choke back a scoff. I wondered if this John Seed was aware of who’s territory this really belonged to, and if he would have a change of heart if he were ever to find out. As I open the door, the noise and smells hit me full force. I stumbled, my hand finding the truck as I caught myself. This was why that even though I dreamed of big cities, it would never happen. It was too much for our kind. I hadn’t been used to civilization this loud for a long time, it was almost disorienting.

I gather myself as Hudson began to walk forward, her eyes on the bar. My wolf is pacing, alert and even more curious than she was before. I flinch and fight the impulse to run as far away as I can. Hudson stops in front of the truck and turns back to me with a smile.

“He’s also one hell of an artist. Told that to Rowan when she showed me her wolf tattoo.” I smile at her as she continues. “He does a lot of tattoos for the people here.” She’s talking loudly over the noise at this point, and my ears are suffering for it. It would be hard for some, but any wolf could hear her in that damn bar, and I was standing right next to her. “Rowan also said you guys were like, wolf experts. Well, she is, at least. Being a ranger and all.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” I laughed, rolling my eyes at Rowan. She got a kick out of doing little things like that, making references that people didn’t realize had a deeper meaning.

“Anyway,” she motioned to the bar as we began to walk. “Larry Parker is pretty much a rejected science nerd. He believes that aliens are coming for all of us. He’s harmless, and is actually pretty smart, you know, outside of the obsession with things that don’t really exist. Zip Kupka, on the other hand, may be harmless, but he causes more trouble. He has no problem with coming up with conspiracy theories about anyone. He swears that Addie deals ecstasy, Grace Armstrong’s medal is due to some sort of set up, and that John Seed has a fucking sex dungeon.”

I almost choke as I throw her a look. But she just shrugs. “I would believe that about Addie before someone claimed to me that a seemingly high-up attorney was up to that.”

“Rich people pay for crazy stuff. And trust me, John Seed looks like someone who wouldn’t mind.” She threw me a smirk. “But I agree with you. You definitely have a good idea on the kind of person Adelaide Drubman is.”

“She asked me a lot of personal questions when I first met her. It wouldn’t surprise me.” I mumbled and Hudson just shook her head. We draw closer to the bar and I look up, scanning the area, when my eyes catch his.

John Seed was leaning against his car, one hand in a pocket, the other holding a cigarette to his lips as he takes a drag. My breath hitched and I slow slightly as I take him in. He’s gorgeous, that’s obvious. His dark hair is slicked back, his full beard nice and trimmed. I trace the dark lines of his tattoos on his hand as he pulled the cigarette away, a billow of smoke coming out of his nose as his thumb scratches his jawline. I swallow as something stirs in me and I can’t help but feel exposed as his dark blue eyes drill into mine. It’s then he chooses to shoot me a smile, his teeth on display.

I turn away, a blush finding its way to my face as I become flustered. I focus on Hudson as I bite my lip, a shiver running down my spine. Hudson is still talking, talking about Addie, recalling moments she had with her. She turns, shooting me a smirk.

“I told Grace and Addie just the other day that we needed some serious girl power, you know? A lot of women out here have gone soft, it’s nice to have some alpha females around, know what I mean? And I’m telling you, you’re a fucking beast. I remember you mouthing off to Pratt. Little asshole didn’t know what to think.”

I laugh as we step onto the porch throwing her a wolfish grin, my head back in the game. “Girl, you have no idea.”

We step into the bar and I immediately clench my teeth. My wolf is spooked as the crowd laughs and talks, making my eardrums ring. It turns my stomach, and the scent almost forces me to gag. I should’ve eased into this, for the both of us. At the bar, I can see two men in a heated discussion, motioning with their hands. I open my mouth to say something, but my phone goes off. Hudson turns as I pull it out, seeing Rowan’s contact on my screen.

“Looks important. You wanna take that while I deal with Dumb and Dumber?”

I look up at her. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I got this. Take the call.”

I’m thankful at the excuse to step back outside, but I can feel the slight irritation of Rowan calling me while I was working. I quickly shove my way outside, earning me a glance from the people outside. I take a few steps away from the entrance, still trying to keep distance between me and John Seed’s posse. Once at a safe distance, I answer the call.

“Rowan, what the—”

“Dutch came sniffing around the cabin.” Rowan cut me off, her voice frantic. I freeze, and I can feel my wolf rise fully, her attention undivided and no longer curious of her surroundings. I fight back the growl and scoff.

“Figuratively or literally?”

“I mean, both, I guess?” She sighed on the other side, and I could practically feel the stress from her over the phone. “He came asking questions, saying that he was just checking in to make sure we were settling in okay.”

“He’s checking up on us.”

“Yeah.” She answers, though it wasn’t a question. I huff as I look out at the houses behind the bar, my mind racing. “If it helps, Pratt wasn’t there.”

“Because Pratt is a little bitch.” I clap back immediately. “And I have to work with him, fucking asshole. Way more arrogant than he’s entitled to be, by the way.”

“Yes, and I’m sure he’s very aware of your resentment.”

“Still won’t leave me the fuck alone.” A car starts in the distance and I lean against the building behind me. “Did he say anything specific?”

“Not directly. Just touched a little bit about how he hasn’t seen us in a while. I think it’s clear though. He wants us to join him and commit—”

I don’t hold back the growl this time, something icky crawling under my skin as my gut twists. My wolf is amped up, both of us are, and I had an urge to go for the old man’s throat. “I’m not committing to someone who claims to be something they’re not. He has no claim to us, and he never fucking will. His right hand is that little arrogant errand boy of his—”

“We’ve been here long enough, Wren. There’s an alpha in the east, but I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up without it turning into something else.”

“He can’t force us to join, Rowan. And if worst comes to worst, we can leave. I know you don’t want to,” my wolf whines and I flinch, because I know she doesn’t want to leave either. “But it might have to be an option we consider.” Rowan goes quiet, absorbing everything. “Do you need me to come home?”

“No, he’s already gone.”

I play with the buttons on my deputy shirt and I bite my lip. “Call Adelaide, invite her over for dinner or something. Don’t leave yourself exposed and do something to occupy your time until I get back. We can talk more about it then.”

She agreed easily, both of us failing to find anything else to say in the moment as we hang up. My hand dropped to my side as I lean my head back against the wall. I try to take a calming breath, but I’m antsy. I exhale heavily and shove the phone in my back pocket before I push myself off the wall. I start to make my way back towards the front, when his voice calls out to me.

“You seem oh-so familiar, darling.” My head whipped around, my eyes finding John Seed’s as he smirks at me. He is still leaned against his car as he flicks his cigarette down, grinding it into the gravel and pavement with his black boot, his gaze cast downward. I go to sneer at him, no matter how cute, he isn’t allowed to speak to me that way. I take a step forward, the words on my tongue when it hits me. The blood drains from my face, my fight going right along with it. His smirk is more wolfish as he watches realization hit me like a freight chain, and he shows just the slightest bit of fang as his honey voice rings over the crowded noise in the bar behind me. “We’ve met before, haven’t we, dear? Though, it was under…. less pleasant circumstances, if I recall correctly.”

His scent is heavy and so fucking obvious now, and I kick myself for not noticing it before. It’s his territory, of course his scent is everywhere, but the longer I stand there, the more potent it becomes. I shift, putting weight on my back foot, and he moves with me as if we were tethered together. Anyone passing by would think that he was calm, relaxed, and completely at ease, but I knew better. His muscles were tense and ready, his eyes sharp, nothing escaping him. I could feel it rolling off him in waves, the dominance and authority. My heart raced and I knew he could hear it pound loudly. The absolute power of him is overwhelming, and if I run, I know he won’t let me get away this time. Not until he was ready for me to go.

“You.” I breathed and his smile widened. He pushed away from the car, standing at his full height as his hands tuck themselves in his pockets. It’s fitting for him, the sandalwood scent that has overwhelmed my space and the wolf underneath. It was all just so…him. It was on odd feeling, seeing the connection, something I had never considered before now. My eyes rake down his body, fully taking in the waistcoat and blue dress shirt. The lines of his chest that is on display from the way he left some buttons undone, the swing of a key on a chord around his neck almost hypnotizing. The feeling in my stomach returns, twisting and his eyes dance as I meet his gaze once more.

“Yes, me.” He takes a step forward, his eyes watching me as he stalks me. I fight the urge to cower, my wolf rising to the challenge. “I believe I can recall saving your life.”

“I remember being rudely attacked by your pack member.” My tongue is sharp, faster than my brain at times, and I wait in horror at his reaction, but he just laughs.

“And I remember someone showing blatant disrespect from the safety of the Henbane shortly after.”

“I could show you now, perhaps that would bring you some peace.” I take a bold step forward, the blood in my veins humming and my skin tingling. Rowan was right, perhaps. It was him that was causing such a shift in me, making me more aggressive and bolder. It was going to get me killed if I didn’t watch myself, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to.

“Now wouldn’t that be a sight to see?” he replied lowly. “You are…” He tilts his head, breathing in deeply as his eyes close. It’s a couple of seconds before he sighs out heavily, his eyes snapping open to meet my gaze. “Magnificent.”

My wolf is intrigued, and completely swept up in everything this male is and what he embodies. I’m stunned by him, not knowing how to react. I’ve never had a male react this way to me before, and my mind was trying to reevaluate, desperately trying to cling to anything I could use as a defense, to raise my guard even higher, because he was passing them with ease.

“So, I’ve been told.” The lie is smooth off my tongue, my wit and confidence coming to me the best it can with my wolf acting like a lovesick puppy, desperate for the alpha’s attention and affection. She was practically glowing under his praise.

He laughs, a dark mockery there that has the hair on the back of my neck on end. “Yes, well from what I can smell, I’m sure you have. Pratt, right?” He tilts his head, a clicking of his tongue in disapproval a knock on my nerves. “Oh darling, to let that male between your legs…”

“Fuck you.” I snarl, my wolf immediately rising to the surface, immediately offended by his crass implication. But deep down, she’s hurt by his show of disrespect. She wanted to be enough for the only male she had seen as worthy. I’m shell shocked by it as it hits me, and I use my anger to hide it. He flashes his teeth, and I can see what’s just beneath his surface.

“When and where, sweetheart? Because I have no problem with bending you over my car and having you right here.” His snarl is deep and rugged, and it causes a shiver down my spine. I’m shaking with anger and something else I can’t place.

“Dutch warned me about you.” I snapped, desperate to hurt him the way he had hurt us. “I should have listened.”

His brows pull together as he scoffs. “You think you should listen to a washed-up mutt who believes he deserves or has earned the title alpha?” John taunts. “My brothers and I came here, showed his people true leadership.”

I take a step back, shocked. “Brothers?” I breathed out.

“Yes.” He smiles again, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I have two brothers. One to the North and the other who has graciously allowed two unmated rogue females to live in his territory.” I felt like ground was spinning beneath my feet as he continues. “You think I’m not aware of what he’s doing? What that pup is trying to do? Watch your back—”

“Or what?” I snap. “You’ll do to me what you did to his niece, Jess Black?”

He stops, a look of pure confusion crossing his beautiful features, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “You think I…we did that to her? Is that what he said?”

I swallow before I continue. “That’s what…that’s what Pratt implied, he didn’t come out and say it, but he warned me that that was what would happen if I crossed the border.”

“And yet you crossed anyway.” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes before throwing me a look. “Don’t believe everything they tell you. They’re offering you a place in this poor-excuse of a pack they’re getting together. To believe that we’re not aware of the uprising they’re planning is foolish. But no, darling, as savage as I or Jacob can be, we aren’t the ones that marred that poor girl’s face. He did.”

I scoff. “I don’t believe you. Why would he do that to his own niece?”

“Why indeed.” He replied with a mere shrug. “But I think you’re starting to see it. Dutch is…known to sometimes make unexpected house calls. I’m sure that was just out of the concern for your safety. Although, I would personally recommend the good company of my dear friend, Adelaide. Sounds like you two are already well acquainted.”

I inhale sharply and clench my fists. He heard everything, which I can’t say I was surprised. Alphas’ senses were always more heightened than other wolves, but I guess I just wasn’t expecting him to use it against me. “You don’t know anything.”

He takes another step forward, towering over me as his eyes narrowed. “I know more than you think. Heed my warning, dear, because you might not hear it from anyone else. Like I said, watch your back.”

“Is that a threat?” I shot out, my chin jutting out in defiance. He just shook his head.

“Why would I threaten you? Because you’re a rogue? Darling, most of the members in our packs are former rogues banded together looking for a home. That means nothing to me. I have nothing to gain from this.”

“Other than control, right?” My question makes his brows furrow, and suddenly I feel exposed as his eyes drill into me, but I push through it. “That’s what every male wants. Absolute control—”

“Over what? You? Is that what you’re so afraid of?” He asked, his voice so soft its almost a caress against my skin. “It is, isn’t it?” I’m the one that’s confused now, because I don’t know how we got to this, I don’t know if or how he steered the conversation in this direction. I try to backpedal, but he doesn’t give me the opportunity. “Being an unmated female can be dangerous, but I’m not here to force anything on you. I’m not making you choose sides, because when you come to me, I want you to do it on your free will. I want you to choose to say yes.” He brings a finger up to lightly trace my jawline before angling my chin up, our faces inches apart. “You don’t like me, that’s fine. But I’m not here to threaten you or to take your life, I’m here to give it to you. I’m not here to own you, and honestly, I don’t think anyone could if they tried. What I’m telling you is to stay close to your true allies and know them well. That if you’re going to choose a pack, make sure it’s the right one, because there may be no going back. My advice is that you stick close to Adelaide, at least the witch knows what she’s doing over there.”

I make a twisted face at him. “That’s awfully rude, especially considering that you’re supposed to be close friends.”

He laughed with a shake of his head. “You have no idea, do you?”

“What--?”

“Hey, Rookie!” Hudson called and I could hear the door slam. We both pull away, John taking a few steps back and his hands returning to his pockets as he rocks back on his heels at complete ease. I couldn’t say the same. I was scattered, my skin buzzing and my wolf just as confused. It was as if I were watching a ping pong battle, trying to keep up with the moods of John Seed. Hudson walked up with a smirk.

“Deputy Hudson.” John greeted her with a smooth smile, his voice nothing but a soft, honey eloquence, as if we had been talking about nothing but the weather and becoming fast friends. “A pleasure as always.”

“I’m sure it is.” Hudson smirked before eyeing me. “I see you’ve met our new addition, Wren Blake.” I have to fight the urge to flinch as John’s eyes flicker to me one more time before returning his attention to Hudson. I wanted to avoid giving him any information about me, but part of me felt that it wouldn’t have mattered. My last name was on my shirt, and he seemed resourceful enough. If he wanted it, he would get it.

“I did. Lucky for you to have such a pleasant partner.” He throws me a smile and I hate myself for the blush across my cheeks and the stutter of my heart. Damn him. Damn him to hell. “Much better than the utter fool you have running around over there.”

Hudson snorted with a roll of her eyes. “You’re telling me. Pratt is annoying as hell. Good to have some good company for a change.” I’m quiet as they continue, just listening to their conversation. I almost expected her to mouth off to him, just like she did with Pratt because he tried to pull the ‘alpha male’ on her. But she doesn’t, even though I can feel his confidence and authority come off him in waves, almost a superiority that Hudson didn’t seem to react negatively towards. She laughs with a shake of her head, her hand slapping against his arm in a friendly manner, but my wolf doesn’t like it.

I feel it, the rage boiling inside as the jealous starts to spread quickly through my veins. It’s not mine, it’s hers. And I’m fighting to keep myself from showing fang and growling at Hudson in warning. It’s almost suffocating, the need to tell her to back the fuck off and the panic that’s rising in me to stay in control. Hudson turns to answer a call on her radio as John’s eyes pierce me, shock that’s immediately replaced with concern. I don’t know what this is, humans had never forced a reaction out of me like this. So close to shifting, I’m trying to focus.

“Breathe.” It’s a mere whisper, but I hear his voice loud and clear. I cling to it, desperate for anything to anchor me down before I lost it. I’m scared, and I hate him because ever since I’ve met him, ever since I ran into his godforsaken scent, I’ve been out of sorts. I wanted to cry and scream, anything to release what was building up. He moves while Hudson talks, grabbing my wrist and squeezing until he has my attention. “Breathe. Relax. You have to stay in control. You’re okay, focus on me.” My immediate response would be to push him away, to scoff and tell him not to touch me. But my skin is warm where he’s touching it and I’m breathing him in with every breath I take, that I can’t help the pull I feel.

I also feel the pressure, the surge of authority from his wolf to keep me in check, the use of his dominance forcing my wolf back down. It’s a bitter taste in my mouth that’s making my face twist as I realize the power he has. How easy it is for him to make me bend by the sheer will of it. I flinch back, my wrist pulling from his grasp as I look away and take a step back. I throw him a glare as he straightens, his face now a mask I don’t recognize.

“Alright, we gotta head out. Wren, you ready?”

I jump and look at her as she turns to me with a smile. I gave her a hesitant smile in return, forcing everything down. “Yeah, whenever you are.”

“Cool, let’s go.” She turned to John with a wave. “I’ll see you later, Seed. Stay out of trouble.”

He catches my gaze. “No promises.” His voice is low, and contrary to his words, his eyes held a promise that sent a shiver down my spine as we walked away.