#just a random idea that popped into my head after watching “The Black Hole” “Event Horizon” and “Alien”

[thetreetopinn]

Space is huge. And it's incredible. It's so vast and wonderous you could be forgiven for staring out the window of your ship or station for hours, just drinking in the awe of it all. You could also be forgiven for being absolutely, utterly, and entirely terrified of it. Because of all the many things space is, it's definitely horrifying. You spend enough time out there in it, you start to get a little taste of what it can do when it flexes its cosmic muscles.

If you're lucky, you're born in one of the core systems where life is a paradise. Every galaxy has at least one core--and I'm not talking about the astronomical phenomenon--the galactic core. I'm talking about the core of civilized society. Every galaxy's got at least one. The galaxy I've settled in has five, and each core is home to tens of thousands of populated systems. You see, space is so wild and unpredictable, it's best to concentrate the seat of civilization in secure regions where nothing weird or horrific happens. At least, nothing weird or horrific in the cosmic sense. People are still people and they tend to bring their own horrors with them wherever they go. It's just usually mundane stuff--like scarcity breeding the usual sort of underclass that the powerful love to exploit. But I'm not here to talk about politics or economics or class warfare. None of that seems to matter when you're out on a long stretch, but it's important to understand why we're out here.

Since the average galaxy has about a hundred billion stars in it, that means all five cores in my galaxy make up less than one one-hundred-millionth of a percent of all the stars in the galaxy. And there are hundreds of trillions of people. There are so many people, they don't all fit in the core systems. Some chose to go out into the middle distance or out into the deep reaches, to find wild, untamed worlds to conquer and start a new life--people who think you can just start a new civilization without bringing any of the ills of the one you just came from with you. Sometimes it works. You might see a new core start to grow. It's rare, but on a long enough time scale, you can see it happen. But there's always a sort of critical mass. Once a galaxy has about a dozen or so cores, things start to push back, force people back into their safe spaces.

That's where we come in.

I am part of the Intergalactic Search and Rescue division--at least, that's what civilization calls us, or just ISR for short. We have come to collectively refer to ourselves as "icers". The truth of how that started is lost to time, but every ship and crew has a few different favorite variations on the same five or so stories. We stand apart from civilization so that we can keep the fringes of it safe. It doesn't come without risks, or without costs.

When someone goes out exploring and they find something they can't handle, we're the ones that get called in. And we're very good at our job. We are simultaneously revered, feared, and ignored. When you've been out there as long as some of us, space changes you. You become different enough from the rest of civilization that you kind of don't belong anymore. Homeworld doesn't matter. Culture doesn't matter. Species doesn't matter. You're just... different. Space has left its mark on you--sometimes in subtle ways that freak people out like the uncanny valley, and sometimes in obvious ways that encourage you to not ever go back to any of the cores.

All those stories and ideas and superstitions and fears people had in the early days of space exploration--I mean the really early days, when they were flying in little better than tin cans--we found they weren't true, obviously. There were no monsters or cosmic entities of chaos and insanity or anything like that. At least there weren't any at first.

Funny thing about people, we're really good at making just about anything we can imagine. All those tales of nightmarish cosmic horrors, we made them, all of them. We conjured them into existence. At least, that's my theory.

Maybe they existed out there before we reached into the depths of space. Maybe they stayed away because they didn't care about us at first. Then we showed them the diversity of our fears, anxieties, and dreams. They found a feeding ground rich and fertile--the minds of mortals. And so they began to encroach on civilization. The more we push out into space, the more they push back--in just about every way you can imagine.

I've been a part of ISR for a very long time. I've lost count of the missions and tours. I don't have any reason to go back to the core systems. I wouldn't survive there. I'm too different. When you've gone toe to toe with the minions of what is effectively an eldritch horror or an elder god as many times as I have, it changes you. I still look mostly normal, just... slightly off. I don't quite recognize my face in the mirror anymore. Relationships no longer interest me. I'm not tempted by any of the pleasures and distractions the core systems are famous for. I just want to be out amongst the stars. I feel more isolated among the civilized worlds than I do out in the voids between the galactic arms.

I've been keeping a record of my missions, my encounters, all the times I have been brought to the edge of my understanding and come back from the brink. I'm not entirely sure why. It's not like I really need to. There's plenty of information on all the unique beings, species, and anomalies we are likely to run up against. Some are amiable enough to let us go on our way after an initial misunderstanding. Some are completely indifferent, like a whale is indifferent to the harrowing existence of a tardigrade. Some are openly malevolent. These are the things we push back against. We have to let them know that they can't just run rampant.

Some of our personnel ends up disappearing, becoming part of the cosmos in one way or another. I've seen crew members assimilated into a collective consciousness that spans an entire nebula. I've seen crew transformed into an entirely new species as part of that creature's reproductive cycle. They almost never remember anything of their old life. They are no longer who they once were. Occasionally, I'll come across an old shipmate, now the herald, consort, or interpretor for some greater being, and we'll come into conflict. It's my job to remind them what we do--we look for the people who don't actually want to be this far out and bring them home. We also tell the darkness to respect the boundaries of light.

The various military and para-military organizations do the job of defending the core systems, and they're treated like heroes. We are the mad wanderers, the sages who have gone out into the desert and come back with forbidden wisdom. How can you go back to your homeworld, or your people, when you have stood in defiance before a god of madness only to suddenly find in the depths of your will and soul the power to push back on that all-powerful madness? It changes your sight. Your senses are altered. You can feel the lingering touch of that god or swarm or spirit brushing across the edges of your mind.

I find myself irritated with the more mundane missions. If I discover a derelict spacecraft and find its crew murdered and turned into bloody, mutated, animated corpses because of some deranged scientist's hopes of finding a cure to a new illness or they sought to build a mindless army only they could control, I find I almost want to set the ship on a collision course with one of the core systems. Maybe then it would teach those fools to stop trying to defy the laws of nature.

I find myself seeking out the more bizarre and inexplicable encounters. A ship that has disappeared mysteriously only to return haunted by the evils of a chaotic dimension holds some fascination for me, because whatever twisted mind has come to possess the ship or its crew seems to fear me. When they see into my thoughts, they shrink and cower, almost as if I resemble their god. I feel compelled to learn more about this--to learn more about what I am becoming.

It was once said that we are a way for the cosmos to know itself. Perhaps one day I will move beyond this existence and I will understand the cosmos. Perhaps when I understand the cosmos, the cosmos will understand itself. Until then, I will stand as sentry between the boundaries of civilization and the terrifying, cruel, beautiful darkness of the universe. I will send the lost souls back home with a greater appreciation for their security with a warning to never return. I will send the old gods and monsters back to their hives and shadows with greater appreciation for what they have already consumed--also with a warning.

Neither deity nor mortal, I am what lies between. I am the mediator. I am the void. And the void cares not for the trappings of the core systems or the plots of demons. The void simply is.

[ravenforce]

Manhattan 2

Word Count: 3583

Warning/s: None. (Would you believe that? Lol.)

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who likes, and follows this story. You guys are amazing. Please leave your reactions, bloody or otherwise, on the comment section. My inbox is open too if you’d like to pop by. Oh, and please note the ff:

1. If there are any grammatical mistakes I’ve still overlooked, I apologize.

2. Since you’re already reading this part. Please, be careful out there. Protect yourself from NCOV. Wear a mask if you’re going outside. Wash your hand regularly, and bring alcohol everywhere you go. Take your vitamin C seriously, and stay hydrated. If you feel flu-like symptoms, get yourself checked by experts. Don’t self-medicate. The world is a better place because you’re here. Stay with me. Xx

Manhattan Parts: 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8  | 9

*** 

The Morning After - Lou’s POV

Lou can faintly see that the sun is already up and peaking through her curtains. Rather than get up, she shut her eyes tighter, the events of the night prior rushing to the forefront of her brain. She sighed happily as she remembers how soft you were against her hands, how obedient you were, and how beautiful you sound begging her to go faster, harder, and most especially when you screamed her name. She groaned when she remembered how you moaned as you come undone in her mouth and hands. She rolled on her back like she’s been struck by lightning when she remembers how you look in her bed, sated and peaceful.

She was disappointed when she found your spot on the bed empty. She sighed, no one leaves her in bed. It is her that always leave, and the other party begging her to stay but she never does. She sat up, she decided she’s not gonna wallow and think that you leaving is some sort of karma for every girl she left satisfied, yet heartbroken. She decided she’s going to shower because you both did plenty of dirty stuff last night, and then she’s gonna come downstairs to find her brothers and their merry gang of beautiful misfits and have breakfast with them.

Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt, dark jeans, and black boots, Lou barged into the service kitchen where she knew everyone was holing after a night of partying.

“Good morning, children,” she greeted happily. Amidst being disappointed about your departure, she’s still positively lighter. 

The soft morning conversation came to a stop. It took a minute for everyone to process her presence, that Lou, their big sister is home for once. She’s rarely home ever since she opened the art gallery, The Heist, in Manhattan with Debbie, Daphne, and the crew.

“Sestra,” Loki greeted when Lou rounded the corner towards the coffee machine. “Your after-sex-glow can be seen from outer space.”

The Avengers choked on their breakfast items, Loki and Lou started laughing. 

“Loki!” Thor admonished after successfully gulping down his french toasts. 

“What? She looks great!”

“You could have gone with that,” Tony complained, blushing profusely and pointedly not looking at Lou. They’ve all been close to her, growing up with the boys but they still don’t like being privy to Lou’s sexual affairs.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Loki, ever the sassiest, said. 

Thor watched his big sister for a minute, and the three of them have been closed enough to know that Loki’s right. Lou’s definitely glowing. 

“Please tell me you didn’t pick up a random college girl from the party last night,” Thor said warned jokingly. 

Lou smirked and intentionally didn’t answer the question as she makes her coffee.

“Lou?” Thor asked, squinting his eyes at his sister’s back. 

Lou turned around to look at her blonde sibling with an infuriating smile on her face. 

“Well,” she started, intentionally pausing a beat or three to annoy her brother. “I didn’t actively look for her. She stumbled on my lair, what am I supposed to do?”

Loki and the rest of the gang laughed, while Thor continued mumbling and complaining about having to look at the poor girl sulking at school because the legendary Lou Odinson won’t pick up their calls.

”Besides, how am I supposed to walk away from her? She’s breathtaking,” Lou said with genuine fondness. 

***

Heavy Breakfast - Your POV

Before everyone can grill Lou on who she slept with, you barged in the service kitchen looking slightly dishevelled and with a deep frown on your face. The conversation dropped, while the tension rises. Everyone looked surprised that you’re on-site, their collective gaze fell on Nat and Carol in an instant. The two looked terrified and wholly unprepared for your arrival. They still haven’t quite polished exactly what they wanted to stay, even though they’ve been trying to reach you since the sun started to rise.

“God, Odinsons’ your house is insane,” you said dramatically.

“I went outside to make a phone call, and I got lost on the way back,” you ranted before looking up from your phone and quickly looked at your friends. 

Your perfectly constructed poker face nearly slipped when you saw Lou standing behind Tony and Maria by the coffee maker. She looked mildly surprised but more entertained at the idea of being in the same room as you and the two women she helped you forget - temporarily - last night. You held back the urge to roll her eyes at her. 

“You’re not the first to complain about that,” Lou quipped. “I told the boys to put up signs but I guess they’re both lazy idiots.”

You cracked a smile remembering how she called her brothers that last night before threatening to beat them up, assuming they made you cry. Tony and Maria caught the smile, no matter how small it was and quirked an eyebrow.

“Putting up signs around the house is ridiculous,” Thor complained as you walk towards the coffee machine. 

“Not to mention tasteless,” Loki backed his big brother up. 

Lou handed you her mug of coffee before starting a fresh brew. Thor and Loki stopped talking in an instant, as everyone watches you drink from Lou’s cup. You let out an ungodly moan as you let Lou’s perfectly brewed black coffee with two sugars wash over you, and warm you inside out. Your friends are watching the two of you like hawks. You can hear the cogs in their heads turning, piecing every action and reaction together.

Any minute now, you thought.

“You look good in my shirt,” Lou commented, full-on grinning now. 

“Holy shit,” Tony exclaimed. 

“What?!” Thor yelled as he stumbles out of his stool. 

You just shrugged before turning to your friends. You don’t care much that they know. You’ll tell them eventually, anyway. You just worry that you sleeping with Lou will change your dynamics with Thor and Loki. Wanda looked surprised while Maria looks worried for a second, she knows you best. So, she knows you slept with Lou as a coping mechanism.

Loki and Tony look impressed while Thor looks like he’s still processing but he doesn’t look angry. Nat and Carol looked pissed as hell.

“You slept with Lou?” Nat asked, voice clearly on edge. You frowned, not liking the tone she’s using. “Why?”

“Because I can,” you answered simply, voice neutral. “And I wanted to. Last time I checked I’m free to do whatever and whoever I want.”

“We know we fucked up last night,” Carol started to say. “But this retribution is brutal.”

You can feel your blood starting boil at that. You wanted to yell that you didn’t sleep with Lou as revenge for them kissing Steve and Val, you did it for you. You did it to forget, sure but you did it also because you’re attracted to the woman for fuck sake. You wanted to scream so many things, some of them probably spiteful but you weren’t able to as Lou’s warm, soft hand landed purposely on the small of your back. Everyone caught the action, Nat and Carol’s frown dipped deeper as they watch all your anger dissipate. 

“I can’t do this right now,” you sighed before putting Lou’s mug on the sink next to you. 

Lou just nodded at you before stepping away from her. You walked towards Maria and Wanda before planting a soft kiss on both their cheeks with a soft promise that you’ll explain everything soon enough. You walked towards the Odinson boys next, pulling them both out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Once out of everyone’s prying eyes, you tugged the boys into a hug which they immediately reciprocated, sandwiching you between them.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” you whispered. Thor’s hand landed on the small of your back, while Loki placed his around your shoulder. “I hope we’re cool?”

The boys can hear the worry and hesitation on your voice. Loki smiled at you, before tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “I’m cool with whatever you and Lou are up to. I ship it.”

You smiled at the raven-haired boy before turning towards Thor.

“I don’t understand it but it’s not my business. I just hope you understand what you’re getting into,” Thor said, worry lacing his voice.

The truth is, he secretly ships it as well but he knows her sister’s reputation in New York. She’s been living in Manhattan for a couple of years now, and never had Lou ever dated anyone seriously. He knows her sister’s not the relationship type. She beds girls that caught her interest for a small amount of time until she gets bored or until the girls started developing real feelings for her; then Lou bolts.

She doesn’t care how long the arrangement has gone, if romantic feelings are involved, she’s out. She doesn’t care much if it hurts. For their sister, it’ll hurt worse if she pretends she can give them something she couldn’t. For their sister, it’ll only hurt worst in the long run because what she gives won’t be enough. Lou has been leaving a trail of broken hearts everywhere she goes that’s why Thor worries about you.

You sighed happily. All things considered, you know you’re gonna be okay now that you’ve secured your friendship with the Odinson boys. You were about to leave when the door opened revealing Nat and Carol.

“Wait, Y/N. Please stay,” Nat pleaded. 

“Let us explain,” Carol added. “Let us try and fix this, please.”

You wanted to ignore both of them but the sadness in their voice stopped you on your track. You turned towards them and saw the two woman you truly adore nearly in tears. 

“I can’t,” you started. Nat and Carol visibly deflated. “Not right now. I need to go home and get ready. I have an interview for the internship program. We’ll talk after, I promise.”

“Okay,” they answered smiling softly at each other.

At that moment, you decided that there’s no point holding on the hurt and anger. No matter what, you still love Nat and Carol but you decided you’re not gonna be a player in their game anymore. When you met the two, you knew they still have feelings for each other but they’re too stubborn to admit it, yet you still willingly played. You decided though that if you can’t be with them, you’ll help them get who they deserve.

No more running away. No more mind games, no more using other people to make each other jealous. No one else is gonna get hurt, just because Nat and Carol can’t be honest with each other but that’ll have to wait after your interview. 

***

The Heist - Lou’s POV

“You’re late,” Daphne stated the obvious as Lou walked in leisurely in the conference room two hours after she’s supposed to be in.

Debbie noted the soft smile on her best friends face but said nothing. Lou just shrugged as she plopped down on her designated chair beside Debbie.

“I’m sorry,” Lou said but didn’t offer any other explanation.

She didn’t really have to explain how she stayed up all night just to make you come undone. She didn’t really have to explain how she offered to drive you home as an excuse to spend more time with you. She didn’t feel like sharing how she drove leisurely back to Manhattan because a part of her wants to stay in Ithaca, and risked being teased by her friends for immediately having a soft spot for a girl she barely knew.

9Ball looked up from her laptop to regard Lou for a moment, then every one to check if they’re seeing exactly what she’s seeing.

“At least one of us had a good weekend,” 9ball said with a smirk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with an after-sex-glow, like ever,” Tammy said making everyone laugh and Lou to roll her eyes playfully.

“Agreed,” Debbie seconded.

“See, even Debbie agrees,” Constance said, “So who’s the lucky girl?”

“There’s no girl,” Lou lied. She knows that Debbie can tell she’s lying but she doesn’t care. She’s not ready to share you with her vulture friends yet.

Before anyone can call her out on her bullshit, the gallery secretary, Charlie poked her head in the conference room.

“She’s here,” she said looking at Debbie.

“Saved by the bell,” Amita teased, prompting everyone to start giggling again. Debbie shushed them after a minute. Charlie who has been working in the gallery since it opened didn’t bat an eye on her bosses weird antics. She just waits patiently for instructions.

“Send her in,” Debbie instructed before Charlie nodded and scurried away to get the last interviewee for the gallery intern position. Whoever gets the job will join her, and the second gallery assistant, Kurt at the bottom of the corporate ladder.

Lou looked at her best friend with a silent question but before she can answer, the door opened and the applicant walked in.

***

The Interview - Your POV

You stopped dead on your tracks when you saw Lou, while the other paled a little.

Holy shit, you thought to yourself.

When Lou said she’s a businesswoman, it didn’t occur to you that she might be the owner of the art gallery you’re applying for an internship. You internally cursed the alcohol you consumed the night before for missing dead giveaways that Lou owns the Heist, like the number of artworks and art pieces in her home office, or the magazines on her coffee table featuring her and her crew. 

You were pulled away from your internal musing when 9Ball jumped out of her chair to tackle you softly in a hug. 

“Y/N!!” 9Ball exclaimed as she rubs her pretty face on the side of yours. Lou frowned at the action.

“You know each other?” Lou asked carefully keeping her voice neutral. 

9Ball extricated herself from your person before dragging you to the table. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s my friend from MIT. She’s eighteen when we graduated uni,” 9Ball bragged. 

“We know, nine. We read her file” Rose said smiling.

Lou frowned because she doesn’t know, she forgot to read your file. She meant to do it yesterday but well, she met you instead. Though she knows things about you, it would be inappropriate for her to divulge them in this interview. She had to bite her lips to stop herself from smiling, thinking about all the tiny details she knows about that isn’t in your resume. Daphne caught her though but decided it’s not the time to discuss what’s going on. 

“Y/N you’ve been vouched by Nine, and your credentials are spot on,” Debbie started to say, using her CEO voice. “So I’m wondering why you still want to do this interview rather than just get the job?”

You smiled up at your potentially new boss. You can easily see that Debbie is the level-headed one in their group. 

“I work great with Nine. You all work great with Nine but that doesn’t mean you will work great with me,” you said softly, confusing everyone some more. 

“I need you to assess me as a person, not just my credentials.” You paused to let that information sink in. 9Ball looks at you with pride in her eyes. 

“I’m great in the paper, sure. I possess the technical qualities to perform an excellent job, but I believe all of it is to go to waste if you find my personality doesn’t match yours.”

Smart. Debbie noted on your resume without breaking eye contact. She smiled at you, clearly impressed. She looked around the table to assess her team’s reaction, and by the happy look on their faces, she knew they liked you as well. Everyone was enamoured by you if their attempts to engage you in a conversation all at the same time is to go by. 

“What do you think?” she whispered towards Lou. 

Lou didn’t take her eyes off you as she answers. “I think she’s perfect…for the job,” Lou caught her slipped up early on but by the look on Debbie’s face, she knew she caught it.

Debbie cleared her throat to draw everyone’s attention back to her. She looked at you intensely, the pregnant pause is giving you anxiety. “Y/N, when do you think you can start the job?”

You heaved a great sigh of relief. “Can you give me until next week to find an apartment, move, and get settled?”

Debbie nodded before standing up, walking to you and shaking your hand.“Welcome to the Heist,” she said smiling. Then everyone came over to congratulate you and give you hugs, except Lou.

***

You were standing at the side of the gallery entrance, texting Maria the good news when someone stood toe-to-toe with you. You’ve seen that boots this morning but you opted to finish your text with Maria before looking up at Lou.

“Would you prefer if I turn down the job?” you asked tentatively. You’re a little worried that she didn’t come over to congratulate you awhile ago.

“What?! No! Unless you don’t think you can’t work with me,” she teased. You laughed softly.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ms Odinson.”

“Miller,” she said. You tilted your head confused. “I don’t use Odinson here. It attracts too much-unwanted attention.”

You wanted to make a joke about how such a face would attract a lot of attention but the seriousness in her voice prompted you to let it go.

“Well don’t flatter yourself, Ms Miller,” you corrected yourself, trying to imitate the way she talks. Lou laughs at your antics. You’re such a child but instead of running for the hills, she’s craving you more and more.

“Anyway, do you have plans tonight? Thought maybe since you’re here, we can celebrate.” Lou wanted to smack herself for being unable to resist vomiting her words. She doesn’t do nervous but something about asking you out, platonic or otherwise, feels daunting to her.

“I can’t tonight. I promised Maria and Wanda I’ll be home for dinner,” you said with a frown. “And you know I promised Natasha and Carol we’ll talk too.”

Lou mirrored your frown. Something about you, and Nat, and Carol in one sentence ruin her good mood. “Okay. Some other time, maybe?”

“Now, who can’t get enough of who?” you teased, effectively eradicating the frown on the blonde woman’s face.

“Shut up.”

You laughed. She started laughing too while hailing a cab for you. When the famous yellow car pulled up on the curb next to you, you bid her farewell. You stopped before entering the vehicle to look at her.

“Maybe you can help me warm my new apartment soon.”

It wasn’t a question. It’s an offer, and Lou knows it.

She smiled broadly at you.

“It’s a date,” she said before the yellow taxi rolled you away.

Taglist:  @kaytoopio​​​ @marvelfansince08love​​​ @marvelb00kwolf​​​ @shycucumbersandwich​​​ @subject7creed​​ @inkstainedhandsofgold​

[yeoldontknow]

Totem

Author’s Note: this story is entirely an act of fiction. it contains strong, mature themes and features subjects which may be triggering or uncomfortable to read. these themes include, but not limited to: themes of abduction, references to ptsd, extreme trauma, and paranormal activity. please take these warnings seriously and do not read if any make you uncomfortable. | this story is written as a script, rather than a traditional prose fanfiction. even though its unusual, i still hope you enjoy it <3 happy spooptober! Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female) Genre: horror; suspense; thriller; haunted house au; light romance; au Summary: What follows is an account of YouTube vloggers Euripet3s1 and theJungProject. This is a report of the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok. Rating: M Warning: themes of abduction/ghostly possession; references to ptsd; extreme trauma; paranormal activity; explicit language; non-explicit nudity; graphic situations Word Count: 5.5K

Towards the end of my research for my Ph.D, I became fascinated by what has recently been cited as the "second wave" of realism films in production, thanks, in part, to the advent of creative social websites like YouTube and Vimeo. The introduction of reality and scripted reality television, alongside its relatively unilateral conjunction with the internet, sparked a new direction in filmmaking that prided itself on low budgets and the autonomy of immediate authorship. 

Where Vimeo encouraged, and favoured, well produced filmmaking and art house developments from a range of semi-professionals to professionals, YouTube saw a strong dynamic shift in what eventually was defined as vlogging. Video series like Marble Hornets, Fewdio, and curiously chilling uploads by users such as EverymanHYBRID became cult canon amongst internet users. Instead of humour posts, video game plays, and make-up tutorials, users sought creative expression in 'noise aesthetics' and the horror genre. 

On April 30, 2010, YouTube user Euripet3s1 (full name: Y/F/N Y/L/N) uploaded a video entitled #184-190 to her channel of 12,413 subscribers. It would be the final upload she would make before deactivating the account three weeks later, eventually removing herself from social media altogether. The video itself is an account of her trip to England to visit fellow YouTube vlogger and boyfriend theJungProject (full name: Jung Hoseok), who was residing in the country while finishing his degree, depicted through seven pieces of footage taken from video cameras and mobile phones. 

Euripet3s1's channel was a comedy and lifestyle channel, in which she would present everyday information in a humorous way. Therefore, the unsettling events in the final video left both fans and casual viewers stunned. Avid fans of the Marble Hornets series were the first to draw attention to the video, before it went viral on hundreds of forums, including Reddit and BuzzFeed. When the users’ account was deactivated, the video was removed from the website only to resurface two months later by user TwerK (full name: Kim Taehyung). There are only two videos on TwerK's channel: #184-190 and Help Explain This. 

Help Explain This was filmed in August 2011 and is the last surviving footage of Jung Hoseok.

Numerous attempts at paranormal investigations have occurred in the last two years with no results. Psychics have been brought to every location depicted, though their efforts have been futile. The pocket watch in the film has been defined, by paranormal researcher David Kelwayne, as a totem. To quote David:

 "A totem is an item left behind by the dead which they had ascribed deep personal meaning or symbolism during their life. To come into contact with a totem is to contact the spirit attached to it, even if said contact is relatively erroneous; to become connected to the totem is to become connected with the spirit, often permanently" (Seeking Answers: Beginner's Guide To The Paranormal, 54)

This report exists only to present the video as it was found, in its untouched manner, for archival and historical purposes. The research to be found on the events, people, and locations involved has lead many in vast circles and down endless rabbit holes. It is my hope that the academic world will provide its resources for the many seeking answers about what truly happened to Jung Hoseok during that week in April. 

 ~~

Editor’s note: Heretofore, the speakers will be quoted using their first initials rather than their usernames.

#184

Duration: 1:46

[Exterior. Night-vision mid-close up of dirt path. Leaves cover the ground and crunch audibly. Feet remain in view as two persons walk the path in brisk, even steps. A low male voice is heard, his accent distinctly Korean. ]

H: Are you filming, Y/N?

[A second voice speaks, female. She is American]

Y/N: I have no idea. Your camera is weird.

H: It's no different from any American camera. It's a SONY. Has the green dot gone on?

Y/N: Well, it's different in the dark. Yeah, it has.

H: Then it's filming. Point it at your face, dummy.

[Camera is lifted and spun towards the holder's face, the night vision on the camera giving her a blue glow. She is young, no more than 24. The fringe of her hair gets caught in her eyes, trapped there by the hood of her sweater. She smiles brightly, waving at the camera momentarily.]

Y/N: And so we meet again! Today I am joined by theJungProject -

[camera pans left. A young man, also no more than 24, is walking briskly with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He squints at the light of the camera and pulls a face by sticking out his tongue]

- say hi, Hobi.

H: [nods once] Hello, Tiddy Harem.

Y/N [sighing]: Must you call them that?

H: [shaking black hair out of his eyes; he sniffs, not looking at the camera] You have thirteen thousand subscribers and 12,950 of them are men. Yeah, I'd say it's a harem.

Y/N: [snorting] I do not have thirteen thousand. And that's an insult to my fifty female subscribers.

H: You know I’m playing. [sniffs] You have fantastic tits, though.

Y/N: You’re literally disgusting. [turns camera back to her face] So, as you all remember I landed last night in Heathrow, after which I got embarrassingly drunk on incredible beer. We spent most of the day being hungover before getting on a train from - what station was it?

H: [in background] Liverpool Street.

Y/N: Right, yeah. We got a train from there to here, [pulls camera back to wave hand, denoting surrounding location] which is apparently Suffolk…specifically Sudbury. We had a grand idea to go to the Borley Rectory because I'm in England and apparently that means it's okay for Hobi to go on a midnight ghost hunt.

H: I'm not ghost hunting, I'm just…exploring.

Y/N: [faces camera; raises one eyebrow]

[Camera turns off] 

~~~

#185

Duration: 7:08

[Interior; night. Camera pans from left to right as Y/N breathes heavily. The windows of the rectory are shattered. Leaves scatter the concrete floor. What little furniture existing within the house has been tattered and worn over time, the sheen of its once extraordinary grandeur decayed with dust and time. Y/N walks to her right, into a small dining area. The camera pans over a wooden table that is badly scratched, three long distinct marks marring the mahogany. A hand comes into view, Y/N’s, as she runs her fingers over the marks. The camera pans up and to the left, showing cabinets that are missing their drawers. She leaves the room, slowly walking towards the foyer. A mirror hangs on the wall, the light reflecting off the glass into the lens. She waves.]

H: [distantly; calling] Baby, come up here.

[Y/N head turns right, facing the direction of Hoseok’s voice. The camera turns right as she walks straight back toward a carpeted staircase. Slowly, she ascends it, her footsteps quiet and muffled by both the camera and the foliage. She sniffles. As she approaches the landing, a painting of a pasture comes into view. It is crooked. When she reaches the landing, the camera moves from right to left. There are three bedrooms]

Y/N: [loud whisper] Where are you?

H: [voice from left] In here.

[Camera passes through a doorway. Long shot of Hoseok at chest of drawers to the left. There is an empty bed on the right side of the room, the mattress bare and torn. The video pixelates for approximately two seconds, correcting itself. The windows of the bedroom are in tact, though the carpet has been ripped up from the floor in a seemingly random pattern. Y/N walks to where Hoseok is standing. Atop the chest are several items: a broken hairbrush, a small empty picture frame, an empty ring box and a pocket watch. Y/N zooms in on the pocket watch. Hoseok picks it up, his grip indelicate. Y/N turns the camera, and zooms out to a medium close up of Hoseok’s face as he inspects it]

H: [whispers] This rectory had hundreds of residents before it was condemned. I wonder whose this was.

Y/N: [also in a whisper] Hobi, this place was destroyed by a fire in 1939. Isn't it weird to you that there's still…..things, objects…belongings in here? Nothing seems terribly ruined.

[Pause. Hoseok does not reply. Y/N returns the subject to the pocket watch, appeasing him by maintaining focus on the object though her discomfort is evident.] It looks really old. Can't be from any time after 1920, look at the design. Early surrealist or something.

H: [humming in interest] How do you know that?

Y/N: I’m taking art history for my electives. I’m just saying it looks like something I’ve seen.

[The camera zooms back on to the pocket watch in Hoseok’s hand. There is a patch of dirt along the rim of the cover, but an intricate design of intertwined clock hands and numbers is distinct.]

H: This is mental. You know the more you look at it, the more it resembles a kind of face. Like from a masquerade. 

[Long pause]

Y/N: I don't see it. Where are you looking? 

[Hoseok’s thumb comes into view. It presses the button on the side to open the watch. The cover pops open with a soft click, revealing an elegant Victorian clock face.]

H: Too much to ask for it to be working, isn't it. [laughs]

Y/N: Probably needs to be wound. 

[Hoseok closes the pocket watch.]

[Cut. Interior. Y/N thuds down the stairs after Hoseok, hands clasped and both laughing They come to a stop in the parlor. Hoseok inspects bookshelves, looking for something or nothing, running his fingers over the dusted wood. Y/N turns the camera away and zooms in on a picture frame. It is badly singed. The image of a woman, who looks almost sad, is barely discernible.]

Y/N: [muttering] Something about this……isn't……

[The sound of piano notes echo loudly through the room. Y/N screams loudly, swears, and is visibly shaken as she turns toward the noise. Hoseok sits at a piano by the back of the room, playing Erik Satie's "Gnossienne No. 1." He is chuckling. Y/N approaches him.]

Y/N: There's a fucking piano?

H: [plays uninterrupted] Scare you, did I? 

Y/N: Hobi, is there anything about this that's ok? You said this place was destroyed by a fire and has been abandoned. Logic this out for me: why would there be a piano in a burned down house? Wouldn't the city have this cleared out?

[Hoseok shrugs]

Y/N: I think we should go. 

H: Don't want to spend the night here? We haven't seen anything yet.

Y/N: I paid £35 for a train ticket to this hell. I'll cut my losses and say we’ve seen plenty enough, okay? 

H: [expression softening, he stops playing. The silence is deafening.] Okay, baby, we can go.

[Cut. Exterior. Y/N and Hoseok walking along a residential sidewalk. Hoseok is holding the camera this time, pointed at Y/N in a long shot. Night vision is switched off, faces now illuminated by street lamps they pass. He whistles seductively.]

H: [whispering] Don’t tell anyone until she watches this guys...but I think I’m in love with her. [He turns the camera to face him. The camera zooms out to fit his face.] I mean it. [He looks over the camera to her.] I love her.

Y/N: [distant, off camera] What are you whining about back there?

H: [laughing, he catches up with Y/N and aims the camera at her profile] Say what you said again. 

Y/N: [biting her cheek, but smiling nonetheless] I said you're a twunt.

H: Look at that! Y/N has spent 30 hours in this country and is already adopting its language. 

Y/N: Yeah, well you are. Tell the audience what you did.

H: [turns the camera to his face and holds it out. His leather jacket is unzipped, revealing A Horrors band-tee shirt] I've been a naughty boy. [His other hand reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the pocket watch] Y/N’s upset with me because I wanted a souvenir. 

Y/N: It's not yours, Hoseok.

H: [turns his face to Y/N, camera still aimed at himself. He puts the watch back in his pocket] It's technically not anyone's. Besides, this is one thing we could at least fix. 

[Camera turns off]

~~

#186

Duration: 2:01

[Interior. Hotel bedroom. Y/N sits at the desk provided, laptop open as she uploads footage from the video camera onto her computer. Her back is to the camera. The pocket watch twirls in front of the screen. Hoseok hums. The camera flips, revealing his face. It is clear he is filming on his iPhone. He starts to mouth lyrics to "Don't Stop Me Now," which is playing in the background. He flips the camera back to the watch.]

Y/N: [turns her head quickly over shoulder] Holy shit, come look at this.

[Hoseok drops the pocket watch and hoists himself off the sofa. He is wearing plaid flannel pants. He approaches the desk, leaning against the back of Y/N’s chair and extending his arm as he films.]

H: [kissing Y/N’s head off camera, voice muffled] What is it?

Y/N: You tell me. [looks back at Hoseok, anxious]

[Y/N has Final Cut open. She presses play on footage taken earlier in the evening. She has selected footage from when he ascended the stairs and entered the master bedroom. It plays without sound.]

H: What am I looking for….I don't…

Y/N: [quietly] Just wait. 

[The footage shows the camera panning through the room. As it comes to the bed, the footage warps, revealing a figure wearing black sitting on the mattress. It turns to look at the camera. It is wearing a white mask. The footage warps again. The figure is gone]

H: [reels back] What the fuck is that?! Did you put that in there?

Y/N: [turns to look at Hoseok] No. How would I do that? 

H: [words unsteady] I don't know, you're the film wizard. I still use iMovie. Maybe you have clever special effects or something. 

Y/N: I can assure you that I have no idea how to superimpose an image that clear onto digital footage. I took one semester of New Media, I'm hardly advanced.

H: How did you not see it when you were filming?

Y/N: I don't know, the camera went all pixelated when I was filming but I just thought the battery was running low or something. 

H: You better not be having me off.

Y/N: [brow furrowed, disbelieving] What does that sentence even mean? 

H: Is this punishment for taking the pocket watch?

Y/N: [pursing her lips briefly before she speaks] I'm really not that upset about the pocket watch. Why would I do that?

H: Whatever. Let's just go to bed and forget about it. I don’t want this to turn into a fight.

Y/N: Fine by me.

[Video ends] 

~~~

#187

Duration: 0:53

[Interior. Mid-Day. Close up of Y/N’s face. She stares at something out of view. Behind her, the scenery has changed. Band posters line the green wall, gig tickets and setlists framed next to them. This is what many assume is Hoseok’s bedroom.]

Y/N: [whispers] He's been like this all morning. I have no idea what the hell is going on. He was fine yesterday when we got back from Borley. Fine when we went to lunch, fine when we went to The Borderline for the Lescop gig. Now, he won't stop staring at that goddamn pocket watch. Look.

[The camera is flipped, again the film is from an iPhone. Hoseok sits shirtless on the bed, hickeys dotting his neck and collarbone, the pocket watch in his left hand. He stares almost impassively at it.]

Y/N: [loudly] Hobi.

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [louder] Hoseok, what the fuck are you doing?

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [mutters quietly] Jesus Christ.

[The camera tilts and wobbles, tipping down for a moment as Y/N bends to pick something up. A shoe is thrown in frame and lands on the bed right next to Hoseok. Hoseok lifts his head, dropping the watch. He smiles]

H: Want breakfast, baby?

Y/N: [long pause; quiet breathing] Uh huh.

[video ends]

~~~~

#188

Duration: 3:21

[Exterior. Mid-Day. Extreme long shot of Hoseok as he stands in front of a wooden sign that says Boxer's Lake. From the pockets of his leather jacket he pulls the pocket watch]

H: [looking over his shoulder; calls] You sure this is a good idea.

Y/N: [loudly; voice garbled by wind into microphone] You should have seen yourself, Hobi. It's gotta be the watch and I don’t want to go back there to return it.

[Hoseok reels back and throws the watch into the lake. He stares after it, shoulders drooped and jaw tense]

[Cut. Interior of a car. Hoseok is driving. Y/N points the camera at his face.]

Y/N: How do you feel?

H: Like my soul has been ripped from my chest.

[Pauses. Looks at Y/N]

H: [bursts into laughter] Chill out, baby. I feel fine. 

Y/N: [laughs weakly]

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s kitchen. Y/N films as Hoseok brews tea.]

H: You want any, love?

Y/N: Nah, water is fine.

H: [looks up at camera] Are you going to film everything? 

Y/N: We have an interested audience. Need to keep them satisfied. And besides, I’m only here for a week. I want to remember everything with you.

H: [begins to pull off shirt, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.]

Y/N: [laughter] Don’t start with that!

H: [straightens and flattens shirt] You said satisfied! Y/N: [still laughing] Yeah, well, that’s just for me and I’d like to keep it that way.

[Hoseok bites his lip, happy, and walks to a cabinet to the left. He makes to open it, but his attention is brought to something on the counter beneath it. He pauses. His hand slowly drops from the knob of the cabinet. The colour drains from his face]

Y/N: What?

[Hoseok brings his eyes to the camera, lips parted. He is visibly disturbed. He lifts his right hand. He holds up the pocket watch. Y/N’s breath becomes heavy and labored]

H: [voice small] What the fuck.

[Camera shuts off]

~~~

#189

Duration: 8:32

[Interior. Mid-Day. Hoseok’s car, again. Y/N holds the camera as Hoseok drives, lens pointed out the windshield] 

Y/N: Slow down, Hobi.

H: [voice hollow] No. The fucking watch is ticking…and existing. How is any of what just happened possible?

Y/N: I don't know, I don't know.

H: This is fucking twisted.

Y/N: What are you going to do?

H: Leave it in a field? Pawn it off? Whatever, as long as it's far away from me.

Y/N: Why not burn it?

H: Any fire I make wouldn't get the metal hot enough.

Y/N: Just don't get reckless. [Pleading] Please, baby?

[Cut. Interior. A Pawnshop. The camera pans along a shelf. Various objects come into focus. A door opens and an older man comes into view from the back of the store. To the left of the frame, Hoseok walks over and introduces himself]

H: Hi. Uhm, I'm Hoseok. I need to sell a pocket watch?

[The store clerk looks from Hoseok to Y/N]

Clerk: Get your mate to turn the camera off and then we can do business. 

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s car. Y/N has rested the camera on the dashboard, pointed at the passing scenery]

H: WOOOO! £650 for a shitty old watch!!

Y/N: I think the fact that it was still working was what sold him.

H: Who knows how long it will work for. We practically robbed him.

Y/N: You practically robbed him. I almost got thrown out for having a camera.

H: Eh. He was probably drunk from boredom. I would be, too, if I had to sit in silence eight hours a day. 

[Cut. Interior. Night. Hoseok’s kitchen. Hoseok presses play on his answering machine as he takes off his coat. Y/N sits at a chair at the kitchen table and zooms in on a Sainsbury's frozen dinner.]

Y/N: Mmmmmm.

[In the background, a voice is heard on the answering machine.]

Recorded Voice: Mr. Jung. It's Geoff. You sold me a watch not two hours ago. I’d like to make it clear I don't appreciate being fucked with. [Y/N brings the camera around, landing on Hoseok who is paused at his refrigerator staring at the machine, frowning.] I get enough shit in my town, and I certainly don't need non-locals breezing through and pulling pranks. I'm giving you twenty-four hours to return the watch or my money to the store. If you don't, I'm calling the cops and we can settle this with legal action. [Machine beeps]

[Hoseok remains paused at the refrigerator - frozen. He begins to visibly tense and Y/N gets up from the kitchen table. She approaches him slowly, before Hoseok slams the refrigerator door shut and rushes into the living room]

Y/N: [shouts] Hoseok!

H: [yells] Where the fuck is it? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?

[Y/N enters the living room and turns right. Hoseok is standing in front of his mantle, hitting his chest with the flat of his palms. He stares at the ceiling and screams]

H: [still yelling] YOU CAN HAVE YOUR FUCKING WATCH BACK, I DON'T WANT IT.

Y/N: [yelling over Hoseok] HOSEOK, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE.

H: [looks at Y/N] Of course there is! How else would any of this be happening? [Turns abruptly and heads down the hallway. He disappears into his room.

Y/N: Fuck’s sake. 

[Y/N follows and enters Hoseok’s room. Hoseok is pulling books out of shelves. He abandons that project and quickly goes to his bed, where he up-turns his mattress]

H: [yelling again] WHERE IS IT, HUH?

Y/N: Hoseok, calm the hell down!

[Hoseok turns and rushes past Y/N. Y/N follows]

Y/N: Hoseok, ripping up the house isn't going to solve anything!

H: It's not in my room, it's not in the kitchen. It makes itself known, right? It wants to fucking be seen. The goddamn ATTENTION WHORE.

Y/N: It's an inanimate object, Hoseok, stop!

[Hoseok stomps into the kitchen and picks up his jacket. He pauses for a moment, softening, and reaches into a pocket. He pulls out the watch]

H: [staring at the watch] Something…someone…whatever…wants me to have this. I don't. Fucking. Want it.

[**In the recorded footage, a voice is heard. It clearly says “But you took it.” Neither Y/N nor Hoseok reacts to it and neither has spoken. This voice was pointed out by YouTube user Sarkozam12**]

[camera turns off]

~~~

#190

Duration: 8:00

[Interior. Night. The couches and chairs have been removed from Hoseok’s living room. Two pillows are placed on the ground, side by side, beneath the coffee table where a ouija board as been set up. The scene is lit by numerous candles along the floor and mantle. Fingers over the microphone cause muffled noises and garbled sounds. Hoseok enters from frame right. He sits, in jeans a tee shirt, on one of the pillows. He takes a swig of cider before setting it next to him. He looks slightly above the camera.]

Y/N: [off camera] This is a terrible idea, Hobi.

H: [solemn] Is the camera set up?

Y/N: [pauses, sighs] Yeah, it's just about.done tightening the tripod.

H: Good.

[Y/N enters from the bottom of frame left. It's a long shot of the living room. Y/N sits next to Hoseok. They look at each other briefly. Hoseok draws his eyes away and onto the Oujia board. Y/N’s brow furrows, and she reaches to twine her fingers with Hoseok’s. The contact has him return his gaze to hers, smiling before he leans in and kisses her deeply. Pulling back, he kisses her knuckles three times. Hoseok’s expression hardens]

H: [quietly] I love you.

Y/N: [smiling; quietly] I’m still not used to you saying that. [pauses] I love you, too.

H: [inhaling deeply] Let's do this.

[Y/N pauses. Hoseok looks at her, concerned.]

H: Don't tell me you're quitting on this.

Y/N: [looks at the ground] Ouija boards are scary, serious shit, Hoseok. I don't think we should fuck around with this. We’ve already fucked up so much shit.

H: [shaking his head] I fucked up. And I just don’t know what other choice I have.

[Y/N pauses briefly, hesitating before leaning in to kiss him once more. They whisper to one another as they break apart, kissing for a few more seconds before separating fully. Pulling her hand from his, she sighs and places both hands on the planchette. Hoseok follows suit and does the same]

H: [uncomfortable] What do I say?

Y/N: [loudly] Is there anyone here with us?

[They remain quiet and wait. The planchette does not move.]

H: What if we contact Zozo? That's the opposite of what I want.

Y/N: [giggling, though her sense of amusement is unconvicing] Don't be stupid. 

[Both are silenced by the planchette which has started to move in swirls across the board.]

H: Is that you?

Y/N: No, I'm barely touching this.

H: [shaking his head] It's not me.

[The planchette stops on the word 'Bye']

H: [pauses] Well, that's sinister.

[The video warps into pixels and corrects itself. Three candles have been blown out. Y/N is panicked]

Y/N: What the fuck did that?

H: [loudly] What is your name?

[The planchette moves, quickly. Y/N says the letters it stops on.]

Y/N: L…A…I…R…R…E. D…D…D…E…A…T…H.

H: Lairreedddeath? The hell?

Y/N: I'm busy focusing on the part that - [The video warps. the masked figure from #186 appears behind Hoseok, getting closer after each pixel correction. A white hand with sharp nails reaches for his neck. It disappears] in the fire?

[The Marimba ringtone of an iPhone goes off]

H: Shit. That's mine.

Y/N: Leave it.

[The planchette spins out of control and falls from the table onto the floor. All the candles are blown out at the same time, though there is no wind to disrupt the atmosphere. The camera shifts to night vision. Both draw their attention to the bright light from the camera]

Y/N: Does your camera shift modes automatically?

H: No, what -

[A loud thud is heard, the sound of a door slamming open to the left, its metal knob hitting the wall. The door to what is considered a broom closet has flung open, but its interior is black and occasionally blurred by pixelated static. Y/N turns to look at the noise, but Hoseok disappears from view. We hear him scream]

Y/N: Hoseok?!? [Y/N searches frantically for where the sound is coming from. She turns her attention back to the door, eyes wide in alarm.] Hoseok? 

[Y/N gets up and approaches the closet but the door slams shut. The lights of the house come on. Y/N opens the door to the closet. It is just a closet. The tripod falls over. The screen goes blue and flashes NO BATTERY]

~~~

Given the found footage nature of the editing and the allusion by Hoseok that Y/N was proficient in film editing, at least once mentioning the capability of using special effects in post production, many of the initial viewers of #186-190 believed the story of Hoseok’s disappearance was a clever hoax. While this report remains unbiased, it is important to point out several facts. 

Firstly, it is true that Jung Hoseok went missing from his shared home April 25, 2010. The phone call received on his mobile during #190 was from his mother, mentioned in Y/F/N Y/L/N’s police report, who had not seen her son since April 11, 2010. Secondly, the pocket watch, and the clothing in which Hoseok disappeared in, have never been found. Until August 2011, the footage captured during #190 depicted the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok. 

When Y/N deactivated her account, #184-190 was removed from YouTube in accordance with YouTube’s privacy policies, however not before user TwerK had downloaded the video to a flash drive. In June of 2010, the video was uploaded to Kim Taehyung’s channel, with reasons citing the urgency for fans and interested parties to continue to study the video - i.e in search of clues or proof of a hoax. It is worth noting that while there is a well documented friendship and romantic relationship between Euripet3s1 and theJungProject (ie: both were subscribers to each other's channels, the earliest comments on each party's videos date back to 2008, Euripet3s1 tagged theJungProject in a video called Top 10 Films of 2009, etc) TwerK did not subscribe to either channel, nor has he confessed to knowing either personally. 

It is because of these reasons that the footage in Help Explain This is, in a word, astounding. The film itself was uploaded with a description consisting of a personal plea from Taehyung to help explain what he had caught. Once the video was live, Taehyung experienced a brief period of notoriety on the internet, while simultaneously going under fire by those close to Hoseok who called his video 'tactless and offensive.' 

It is also worth noting that Y/N has become reclusive since these events and has not been available for comment since late 2010, on advice from her therapist.

~~

Help Explain This

Duration: 4:03

[Interior. Mid-Day. Footsteps thud up the stairs of Borley Rectory. The camera is pointed at the landing, but the painting is gone. The person arrives at the landing and he speaks. He is Korean.]

T: Okay. So. Kim Taehyung here. I’m sorry in advance for any English mistakes, but a few subscribers wanted me to visit the rectory while I am here on vacation. Yes, yes, I know it's weird that my YouTube channel only has one video on it, but some of you on Reddit convinced me to make this.  Here we are [Camera pans right to left, light pours in from holes in the ceiling. The home appears to be empty.]. Exact same spot where Euripet3s1 stood. As you can see there is no painting on the wall. Ehm.

[He turns to his left and enters the bedroom, panning the camera right to left as Y/N had done. A naked figure stands in the back right corner of the bedroom, his back to the camera, facing the wall]

T: Again, the room is completely empty. The walls are badly burned. I know you all want to believe this was a hoax, but there's no way these two had the budget. You can't even get up the stairs easily without worrying about falling through.

[He turns left, zooming to an extreme long shot. The right side of the room out of frame.] 

T: This is where theJungProject found the pocket watch. No chest of drawers here. [Camera pans down, showing his feet] You can see the boards of the floor are burned. I'm too afraid to even put weight there. [He presses his foot to the floor, retracting it immediately.]

[Raising the camera, he turns the camera back to right, slightly, showing the whole of the room. The figure from the corner has turned around and is standing naked in a full body shot. The camera pixelates. The figure is now close to the lens, able to be viewed from the middle of the waist up. His mouth and eyes are wide open, but blackened as though holes. The figure is clearly Jung Hoseok.]

T: That's it, then. Sorry the video was so lame.

[He turns and leaves the room. The camera does one last pan from the landing back to the room. The foyer below is empty. The room he had just exited is empty]

Fin.

Author’s Note #2: The locations in this story - Borley Rectory, Boxer's Lake, Liverpool Street Station, Suffolk, and Sudbury - are all real places. Borley Rectory was known as 'the most haunted house in England' and it did get severely burned in 1939. There is actually a woman who haunted the building named Marie Lairre. 

[jisungmark]

i hate you

anon request: can you do an enemies to lovers smut with kino from pentagon?

genre: smut

group: pentagon

warning(s): this is just pure sin (sksks and i’m on mobile, shocker!)

(also to the anon who requested for my kinkiest fic, this is probably it!)

you two have hated each other since middle school. he thought it was a good idea to trip you in the hall while his stupid friend, wooseok, recorded it and posted it all over social media. granted you both didn’t have many friends back then on social media. well- you didn’t have many friends. you were the outcast, the dork, the weird girl that nobody seemed to have a crush on. and honestly, you were fine with that. boys were gross and they all acted the same, like a bunch of dickheads.

even in high school you two hated one another. the things he said about you in middle school never left your mind and you wanted to pound his face in every time you saw him. he was still the center of attention. shit hasn’t changed since you were 11. and of course, you were still the outcast. you were classified as “different” if you didn’t throw yourself at his feet. quite frankly, you were fine with that. because guess what? boys were still gross and they all acted like a bunch of dickheads.

college was different for you. you didn’t have to see kino’s stupid face. boys threw themselves at you now. i guess you can say you had your glow up? you went out more. you liked the way you looked. you were no longer the outcast. you no longer got ghosted, but instead did the ghosting. you always got texts from random numbers asking you to hook up. you’ve had your share of one night stands. once they texted you again, you ignored them. boys were still gross but you were happy if you got to cum. i guess you can say you’re the dickhead now?

“hurry up!” your best friend, lisa, called up the steps. you rolled your eyes popping your lips after you put on your lipstick. you threw it into your bag with your other little things. your phone, charger, lip gloss, keys, and wallet.

“i’m coming!” you responded double checking how you looked before leaving your room. you walked down the steps and lisa was standing there with her hands on her hips.

“took you long enough. now let’s go before we’re late.” she said practically dragging you out the house.

-

the party was already in full swing by the time you two arrived. some kids from campus rented out a house for a party this weekend. you and lisa couldn’t miss such an event. this will be the biggest one this year and you were going to scoop up a boy and then ditch him later. the usual. lisa went in first and you followed close behind her. the house was full of teens you’ve noticed from school and a few new faces. the smell of alcohol and weed filled your nostrils immediately. you looked over and saw a group of boys passing a bong around. this will definitely be a fun night. lisa saw the kid she had a crush on from your math class and went off with them.

“i’ll see you later! have fun and be safe! text me if you need me!” she yelled before she was sucked into the crowd. you made your way over to the kitchen to get a drink. the kitchen was full of already drunk people and there were red cups scattered everywhere. it was too early for you to get drunk so you just grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and had a seat on one of the stools. you popped the cap off and watched the horny teens grinding in the center of the living room. you laughed to yourself. you could see lisa and her boy toy across the room dancing on each other in time with the music. she made eye contact with you and gave you a thumbs up. you continued to sip on your water. your body started to sway to the music. but you didn’t want to waste this time and not have fun with anybody else. you twisted the cap back on your water and you stood from the stool you were perched on.

“woah, excuse me.” a voice behind you rang, putting a hand out to stop you two from bumping into each other. you turned around to apologize.

“oh my, i’m-” your voice was caught in your throat once you realized who the voice belonged to. kino. you folded your arms in front of your chest. he looked you up and down for a second before opening his mouth.

“there’s no way it’s you. you actually look good for once.” he laughed. a figure showed up behind him and you recognized him immediately. wooseok.

“oh shit it is you! look at you. have you been tripped lately?” wooseok asked, clearly trying to fight the smile that was spreading on his face. you rolled your eyes.

“sorry, he’s drunk. go away for right now.” kino said pushing his friend away. wooseok waved back to you.

“bye, you look good.” he called. you felt your face heat up and you got pissed at yourself for getting so flustered.

“what brings you here?” kino asked, leaning up against the counter.

“friends from campus threw the party.” you replied wanting to keep the conversation as short as possible. you had to admit, he looked good with his black button up slightly undone and his back hair was styled to the side. his chest was shiny with sweat probably from the amount of people in one area. you wanted to lean forward and just lick him but you stopped yourself. he’s been your bully since you two were 11, there’s no way you can sleep with him. but gosh did you want to. he clicked his tongue.

“ah, nice nice. are you here with anybody?” he questioned, eyes still scanning your barely clothed frame. you couldn’t help the heat that started to burn in the pit of your stomach.

“my best friend, but she’s busy with someone.” you stated. he nodded slowly.

“so she left you all alone?” his voice was low and he stepped closer to you. you glanced down at his feet as they made their way to you. since when did boys make you so nervous?

“yeah.” you breathed out, barely in a whisper.

“do you want some company?”

-

“you know i still hate you.” you said between your sloppy make out session. he pulled your dress over your head and attached his lips to your breast. you held the back of his head and threw yours back to let out a moan. the loud music downstairs was enough to drown out any sounds that you two may make.

“i hate you.” he commented, pulling your bra fully off your body. he didn’t waste a moment before attacking your breast again. he sucked one nipple in your mouth while he twisted the other one with his fingertips. you panted slightly. you ground your hips down on his growing bulge. he bit down slightly on your nipple. you pulled his hair roughly.

“fuck you kino.” you squealed. he circled his tongue around your nub.

“you will soon.” he smirked. your clothes were off in a matter of seconds. he laid you down on the bed and spread your legs.

“wow, it’s so pretty.” he sounded amazed, coming eye level with your core. he licked you firmly with his tongue flat. you couldn’t even moan out loud because he shoved your panties in your mouth. he went full force with eating you out. he ate you like you were his first and last meal. he grazed his teeth on your clit which sent your lower half jolting. he stuck his tongue as deep as he could inside of your hole before he licked around, wanting to taste every inch.

“you have such a pretty pussy.” he pulled his tongue out to circle your clit. your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you’ve never gotten eaten out with so much passion before. you could see why all the girls liked him. he dove back in, moaning into your core. he’s never seen a pussy this pretty before. he’s never tasted a pussy this good before. he felt like a child who was allowed candy after dinner. he held your legs up as he began to thrust his tongue in and out of you. you could taste yourself on your panties and the taste was so intoxicating. you can see why kino loves it so much. he brought his fingers in the mix and slowly spread your folds. he went back to circling your clit with the tip of his tongue when he dipped his fingers into you. your back arched and you moaned into your underwear. they were practically dripping with saliva but you didn’t care.

“i could eat you all day, it’s not even funny.” he breathed. he curled his fingers in search of that spot that made your legs shake. he began to scissor his fingers and when your hips bucked against his face, he knew,

“i found it.” he whispered. he made sure to press against that spot as he sucked your clit fully into his mouth. your hands made their way to the back of his head as you held him in place to grind against his mouth. you felt yourself close to falling off the edge. he added a third finger to the party and started pumping them inside of you quickly. he never let your clit go. he twisted his hand and curled his fingers, pressing at every delicious spot inside of your pulsing walls that pushed you to cum.

“come on. i know you wanna cum. you don’t have to hold back.” he encouraged, kissing your thighs softly. your hips bucked and you released all over his fingers. he brought his tongue down to your hole in an attempt to catch some of your essence in his mouth. your jaw was on fire from your mouth being held open and the moans that fought through and were sucked into your panties. he kept one finger inside of you as he continued to pump you through your orgasm. when your body relaxed, he crawled on top of you. he yanked the panties from your mouth.

“open.” he commanded. and you listened. you opened and he spit your arousal mixed with his saliva into your mouth. your eyes went wide when your taste hit your buds. you whimpered to yourself.

“swallow.” he said. you swallowed obediently. you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to show him.

“good girl.” was all he said before he wrapped his wet hand around your neck and attacked your lips. he pushed his tongue into your mouth. your tongues seemed to dance in rhythm to the beat of the music downstairs. you pulled away and smirked at him. he thought you looked a mess, a beautiful fucking mess. your neck was covered with your cum. your eyes were blown wide. your hair was disheveled. your nipples were standing proud and tall. he just couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“do you have protection?” your voice came out raspy, probably from how dry your throat was. he got off the bed and went grabbed his pants off the floor. he pulled a condom out and you felt your heart speed up. he crawled back on the bed.

“i didn’t drink tonight. you didn’t either, right? i don’t want to do anything you might regret.” he asked. his voice was sincere. you nodded.

“i didn’t drink, i promise.” you confirmed. he just nodded. he opened the condom and rolled it on his length. your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought it might bust through. he bent you in half causing your knees to touch your shoulders. he slowly pushed himself into you. you wrapped your arms around you legs in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

“you’re so tight.” he groaned when he bottomed out. your legs shook slightly.

“and you’re so big.” you countered. he wasted no time with destroying you. the sound of skin on skin was so loud and if there wasn’t music playing downstairs, the entire place would hear you. you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking when he was fully inside of you.

“is this why everyone fucks you? because you have a dick like this?” you asked, words coming out in pauses because of his powerful thrusts.

“i don’t fuck that many people. i only wanted to fuck one person and i’m doing that now.” he panted. he only wanted to fuck one person? and he’s doing that now? you just ignored it and continued to get the fucking of your life. you let your legs go and reached up to pull him down for a kiss. it was so sloppy. your tongues fought once again and the spit collected before it started to run down your chin. he pulled back and licked your chin clean before spitting all the collected saliva in your mouth again. you moaned when you felt him hit your spot. you wished you could fuck him raw to feel his veins rubbing against your walls. but you don’t take any chances with people. you were still on edge after your previous orgasm. kino reached one his hands down to where you were connected. his slipped his thumb in you alongside his length and used his index finger to rub your clit.

“oh my fuck.” your legs started to shake again. he kept up his relentless pace even when his fingers were fast at work. you circled your legs with your arms again as you whispered,

“choke me, slap me, something. please.” you pouted slightly. and he groaned.

“how can you look so innocent but want me to do something like that?” he asked. he brought his free hand down on your face, hard. your eyes rolled back and you screamed.

“yes, again. please.” you whimpered. his hand came in contact with your face again. you knew you were close. your walls were fluttering around kino and he swore under his breath. his hand wrapped around your throat and your eyes closed.

“tighter.” you begged. he listened, squeezing his fingers tighter. that was enough for you. the lack of oxygen and his powerful thrusts combined with the work of his magical fingers.

“kino, i...” you choked out. he just hummed.

“i’m gonna cum.” your eyes pricked with tears. he slipped his thumb into your mouth but kept his hand around your throat. you felt all the power leave your body as you squirted. you tried to rock your hips in time with his thrusts but failed miserably. you dug your nails into his wrist as you silently begging him to choke you for just a bit longer. he pulled his hand from your heat as he started to spill his seed in you. his hips stuttered as he filled you to the brim. the warmth of his cum was sending you into overdrive. you tapped on his hand as a signal to let your throat go and he did. you both looked down to where your bodies were connected and watched his cum spill from the condom that was doing a poor job of holding it all. it was so dirty and you felt so nasty. but you would do it again. he slowly thrusted in you to milk both your orgasms. you felt him throbbing inside of you and you clenched. he hissed before pulling out. you laid your sore legs down. he plopped down besides you on the bed.

“what did you mean by i only wanted to fuck one person and i’m doing it now? you literally hate me and i hate you.” you questioned, slightly still out of breath. he looked over at you.

“i don’t actually hate you.” he confessed. you raised an eyebrow.

“then why’d you bully me for so long?” you asked. he took a deep breath.

“i actually did like you. shocker, right? but i told wooseok i liked you and he made fun of me for it and he made me bully you or he said we can’t be friends anymore,” he started, “he and i have been friends since we were born. i didn’t wanna lose him.” he sighed. you just looked at him.

“pretty shitty excuse, i know. you don’t have to want to give this a try. but i would really love if you did.” he chewed on his bottom lip. you thought for a second.

“i really do hate you,” you laughed and his face dropped, “but we can work on it.”

thank you for requesting love! requests are open!

[iamartemisday]

The Highest Bidder- a Pepperony fic

A/N: This is my unfortunately late gift for @xxdustnight88 as part of the @womenofmcu‘s Valentine’s Day exchange.

Hope you enjoy!

Pepper had been working as Tony Stark’s personal assistant for nine months, one week, and six days. Here’s what she’d learned:

He drank dark roast coffee with two sugars and one milk.

His favorite band was AC/DC, and she was ninety-nine percent positive he secretly owned the rights to all their music.

He would wear the same pair of jeans multiple days in a row even though he had two closets full of designer clothes.

He preferred blondes with large breasts and long legs, though he’d happily take a brunette to his bed. Very few redheads, though. Not that she cared.

He had no concept of circadian rhythms and didn’t realize he was the only one.

That was how she found herself awake at two in the morning on February 14th, her ill-chosen pop song ringtone cutting holes in her skull with a rusty knife. Tony’s face appeared on her Call ID, grinning like a fool. He was drunk when she took it. Kind of mean, but sometimes, she needed a laugh.

She hit accept. Reminding herself that she made more in a month than most people made in a year, she refrained from cursing him out and settled for a non-committal, “Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

“Club Forty on Eighth Avenue at six.”

“Excuse me?”

“Be at Club Forty on Eighth Avenue at six o’clock tonight. I’ll get Hogan to pick you up. Wear the most expensive outfit you have, and if you don’t have anything that’ll make you look suitably rich, buy whatever you need on my tab. Hogan will give you cash.”

“Wait, Mr. Stark, I don’t understand.” She made the fatal mistake of looking at her glowing blue clock radio. Now her eyes were about to explode. She rubbed them fiercely, struggling to keep them open. “You want me to go to a club?”

“Club Forty. Eighth Avenue. There’s going to be a charity bachelor auction and I need you to buy me.”

“...why?”

“Because if you don’t, Angelica Spooner will.”

“Who’s Angelica Spooner?”

“Some heiress I met at a party a few months ago. I was going to invite her back to my place, but it turns out, she’s kind of completely nuts and obsessed with me. So I must avoid her at all costs.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“She showed up at my office the next day in a wedding dress.”

Okay, that was pretty bad.

“You know, there should be other women at the auction.” Pepper didn’t actually remember seeing that on Tony’s schedule. Knowing him, he agreed after his seventh daiquiri and failed to remember until yesterday. “There’s no guarantee she’ll win.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Pepper heard clanking in the background. Sounded like he was elbow deep in a radiator again. “I’m sorry if you had plans-”

She didn’t, and they both knew it. She’d been between relationships since long before Stark Industries was on her radar.

“-but if you do this for me, I will give you anything you want. Extra pay, double vacation days, you name it. Just please, please-”

“Okay, relax. You don’t have to beg.” Not that she didn’t kind of enjoy it. “I’ll buy you at the auction and keep you far away from your bride-to-be.”

She could hear him shudder. “Thank you. I’ll get Hogan to pick you up at five. Unless you need to run some errands first? Get your hair done or something?”

“No, that’s fine.” Pepper ran her fingers through her hair and hit multiple knots. She pushed through and managed to only wince in pain. “I can get myself ready. See you tonight, Mr. Stark.”

“You are a dream, Ms. Potts.”

He hung up and Pepper stared at the phone, watching the time change from 2:32 to 2:33. Now there was a sign-off she’d never heard before. Once, in her first week of work, he told her her eyes sparkled when she laughed and left him mesmerized. She’d taken the compliment as it wasn’t about her ass or her breasts, but assumed it was just him being his usual self. Charming all the girls like a regular Casanova. Knowing she’d never in a million years say yes because that violated so many workplace regulations and just, in general, would be in poor taste.

Never did she think he actually meant it.

Because obviously, his type was elegant, classically beautiful Gwyneth Paltrow type women. Not mousy failed model Pepper Potts.

But the way he called her a dream, in the exact same tone of voice he used to wax poetic about her eyes, almost like he did find her as beautiful as those other girls. Almost like he had a whole different reason to ask her this favor.

Almost like…

Pepper rolled over and fell back asleep. By morning, she should be fully rested and returned to sanity.

**

Her nicest outfit was a midnight blue evening gown she bought herself as a Christmas gift. It was made of a material she didn’t know the name of but felt like wearing a waterfall. The neckline was on the lower end, but still presentable. The skirt molded to her body like a glove, flaring just a bit at the ankles. Pepper had yet to wear it, but the shopkeeper had insisted, in broken but passable English, that she was a dish in it and men would adore her.

Her doorman, a stone-faced man who could catch flies out of midair, swallowed his tongue as scrambled to open the door for her, and Hogan forgot how to speak for a few seconds as he tried his best not to stare at her.

The shopkeeper was right. Good.

She’d showered earlier in the day and given herself a simple updo. Her make-up was neatly applied and her nails cleaned and manicured. It was a quarter after five and there was nothing to do but get to the club with a half hour to spare.

Of course, traffic being what it was, she just barely made it before the clock struck six. Happy opened the door for her and handed her a platinum credit card.

“From Mr. Stark,” he said. “There’s fifty thousand on there. Should be more than enough to win the auction. Don’t worry, it’s in his name.”

“Thanks, Happy,” she said as the bouncer removed the velvet rope to allow her entry.

She checked her coat and entered the party. It was a swanky event devoid of the usual drunks grinding against each other to pounding dubstep beats. Instead, a pianist played a jazzy tune while men and women in their black-tie best sipped wine and talked about how great being rich was. Pepper recognized a few of them as Tony’s business partners. They greeted her warmly and she responded in kind. Nobody was looking to make conversation, so she found an empty seat near the stage without much trouble.

A man was at the podium organizing his notes. He was short and nearly bald with wire-rim glasses. When he coughed into the microphone, the feedback made Pepper’s ears ring.

“Attention everyone. The auction will begin in five minutes. Please retrieve a paddle from the front desk if you haven’t already.”

Pepper’s paddle was flat in her lap, made from polished cedar wood and lined with gold. Unnecessarily ornate to the highest degree, but all she could’ve expected from the one percent of the one percent.

More people were filing into the dining room now. So many new voices, it was impossible to pick out more than one or two at a time. She distinctly heard a husband and wife arguing over the former’s fixation on their twenty-something babysitter and a waiter rushing through the crowd with a drink in hand.

“Your margarita, Miss Spooner.”

Pepper turned all the way around in her seat. The waiter, grinning foolishly, handed the drink to a woman in a black sequin cocktail dress. She was blonde, leggy, and had boobs bigger than her head. Definitely Angelica.

Despite her objectively pretty face and clear skin, Pepper couldn’t say what made her especially attractive. She stared at the woman as long as she could without being noticed, and there wasn’t a single distinguishing feature to be found. Maybe it was just the distance.

A bell was rung, signaling the start of the night’s main event. The balding man had fixed the microphone and now spoke without causing physical or emotional damage.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming. We’d like to first take the opportunity to wish you all a happy Valentine’s Day. We hope tonight will be a night to remember.”

Some polite applause and then the balding man continued.

“We will begin with our charity bachelor auction. First up, we have Mr. Thomas Holloway, CFO, and co-founder of Datson-Holloway Incorporated. May I start the bidding at five thousand dollars?”

Pepper watched silently as each consecutive bachelor took the stage. She had no idea what Tony’s place in line was or where he was sitting. Most of the men came out from behind a curtain, so it was possible he was back there having as many drinks as he needed to stand before the crowd like a piece of meat and hopefully not go home with someone who probably had his name carved into her arm. Not once did she raise her paddle, earning a few inquisitive looks from the women around her.

“I’m waiting for someone,” she whispered when the stares wouldn’t stop.

Mr. Blake Matthews of Hammertech sold for a cool forty thousand. Then the room hitched a collective breath as the man of the hour appeared.

“Last, but certainly not least,” said the balding man, “Mr. Tony Stark needs no introduction. Let’s start the bidding off at-”

Every paddle was in the air. So was Angelica Spooner.

“Twenty thousand!”

A few paddles went down, but most were furiously waved. Tony’s eyes locked on Pepper, his smile turning horribly fake as a silently pleaded with her. This brought her back to the reason she was here and she rose to her feet.

“I bid twenty-five thousand,” she said.

Angelica Spooner looked like she wanted leap across the room and tear Pepper apart like a rabid cheetah.

“Thirty thousand,” she cried instead.

“Thirty thousand!” The balding man clapped his hands together. “Very good. Do I hear thirty-five thousand? Thirty-five thousand, anyone?”

“Thirty-five thousand,” a random woman in the audience yelled.

“Forty thousand,” said Angelica.

“Forty-five thousand!”

This was actually getting pretty exciting. Even Tony seemed to be enjoying himself. He flashed Pepper a thumbs up, emboldening her to put an end to this once and for all. The credit card burned through her dress into her skin. Fifty thousand dollars. Even the biggest spenders wouldn’t dare go that far all for one measly dinner date. Indeed, more than three-quarters of the paddles were down and what remained were only half as high as they had been.

Pepper didn’t dare look at Angelica, no matter how weirdly tempted she was to give the woman a smirk.

“Fif-”

“Seventy-five thousand dollars!”

A wave of gasps as Angelica pranced on stage and clung to Tony’s arm, so assured of her victory now that her insane bid was on the table. She whispered something in Tony’s ear. He turned snow white and couldn’t bother to fake smile anymore. Now, he just looked sick.

“Well, we have a real battle royale here tonight,” the balding man cheered. “All right, seventy-five thousand. Do I hear eighty thousand?”

Crickets. Pepper couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. It didn’t matter in the slightest because Tony was her boss and a flirt and about as far from serious boyfriend-husband material one could get outside of convicted felons. Him going on a date with this woman meant nothing to her aside from the legal ramifications if she was as bad as Tony claimed. Otherwise, it was nothing she had any involvement in. Nothing she cared about.

He was just her boss.

But Angelica’s hands on his arm and her lips in his ear…

“No? All right.” The balding man prepared his gavel. “That’s seventy-five thousand dollars going once… going twice… s-”

“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!”

It didn’t sound like Pepper’s voice. If she hadn’t felt the vibrations in her throat, she wouldn’t have known it was her at all. Angelica’s eyes bugged out. Tony looked like he’d just seen Jesus. The balding man sputtered and nearly dropped his gavel.

“Wha- you- you can’t-” Pepper kind of liked how presumptuous Angelica had been in going on stage. In the proper lighting, it was now perfectly clear how unpretty she really was.

“That’s it,” a male voice snapped from the audience. Then a middle-aged man stood up. “Angelica, get down here. It’s over.”

“But daddy,” she whined, “you said-”

“I said no more than seventy thousand. No more. Now move. We’re going home.”

It took a few more seconds of pouting and clutching Tony’s arm with her tentacles, but finally, she uncurled herself and stomped off stage, muttering obscenities to herself.

The crowd was silent as father and daughter left the room. He could still be heard yelling at her for embarrassing him even as the balding man cleared his throat and brought the event back to order.

“All right. That was… well, I think it’s safe to say we have a winner! Sold to Virginia Potts for one hundred thousand dollars. Thank you so much, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper waved awkwardly as those daring enough to applaud whistled and whooped for her. She stepped towards the stage where Tony was shaking hands with the balding man. They left after Pepper handed over the card and signed a few papers promising to clean out her bank account to pay for a dinner with her boss. The whole process made her head spin and her stomach churn, even after Tony took the organizers aside and most likely arranged to cover the payment himself.

“Hell of a show there, Potts,” he said while they waited for Hogan to bring the car around.

“Tony, I’m so sorry,” she said, clutching her dress and leaving behind unsightly wrinkles. “I know I was only supposed to bid fifty thousand. I didn’t mean to let it get so out of hand.”

“What are you talking about? You did exactly what I told you to.”

“But you gave me fifty thousand and I ended up bidding twice that.”

“So? I have twelve more cards just like it. Even if I didn’t, I’d give every cent I have and most of my major organs not to go home with Alex Forrest over there.”

“That reminds me,” Pepper looked around but thankfully didn’t see Angelica anywhere. “What was she saying to you?”

Tony shivered as beads of sweat dripped down his face. “Let’s just say I’m really glad I don’t believe in love spells. And that I didn’t drink the wine.”

“Okay then,” Pepper took him by the arm without thinking. “Let’s get a move on.”

“Yes indeed,” Tony took a breath to calm himself down. “How does Monica’s sound to you. Or maybe the Dancing Goose?”

“What’s the Dancing Goose?”

“This little hole in the wall I found one night while bar hopping in college,” Tony said. “It’s a lot ritzier than it sounds and they make amazing crepes. I think it’s a great date location.”

“Are you saying we should actually go on a date?”

Tony shrugged. “I mean, you did spend one hundred thousand dollars on me. Just because I’m paying it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get my money’s worth.”

Pepper tried not to laugh. She really did. “You know there are a few big reasons why you and I can’t date. Reasons which I have listed to you several times already.”

“Yeah, I was thinking we could skip that part and just go for the crepes.” Tony tried to look endearing and innocent with his puppy dog eyes. If Pepper was a giggling fangirl, it would’ve worked like a charm. When she didn’t break, he sighed. “Okay, tell you what, we go for a friendly dinner and talk about work and other boring stuff. So instead of being a couple, we’re just two co-workers chatting over a candlelit dinner on Valentine’s Day. Sound good?”

Part of Pepper wanted to say no, and not at all for the right reasons. “I suppose an impromptu work meeting in a public place followed by returning to our seperate homes at a reasonable hour would be all right.”

Tony slumped a little. “You sound like my junior prom date’s dad.”

“Or I could just go home.”

“No, no, friendly work not-date is fine. I can live with that.”

Happy arrived with the car and honked the horn. He didn’t say a word as they got in the backseat, which Pepper made a note to give him a good tip for. She sat several inches from Tony, nodding along as he sung the Dancing Goose’s praises, interspersed with directions on how to get there for Happy. As they pulled out, Pepper caught sight of Angelica out the rearview mirror. As she stormed down the steps with her father, her heel snapped on the bottom step, sending her plummetting forward. She landed face first in a puddle from the morning’s rainfall, ruining her hair and dress.

Pepper was not someone who took pleasure in other people’s suffering, she really wasn’t, but she couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach as Angelica struggled to stand with tears running down her face. Nor could she stop herself from ‘accidentally’ laying her hand on Tony’s forearm and squeezing.

[heartofsnark]

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter One): Down The Rabbit Hole

Notes:  This has been a long time coming, I never shut up about my oc and this idea. But, I’m finally posting this damn thing. This is gonna be pretty episodic and not have a lot of overarching plots, I’m gonna be stealing canon stories and adding my own spin to them as well as adding my own stories. It’s a shitshow and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.  

Special thanks to @catoinette, @otomemonogatari , @d-om , @enchantedbythebidders , @voltage-fanfictions , and @piplup235  for not only reading through and giving me feedback but also being the incentive I needed to actually write and post this. Without you all, this would still be rotting on my computer. 

 Summary:  Almost a year ago Tsuneko managed to destroy her entire life and she’s been stuck ever since. She works as a maid at the Tres Spades in Tokyo; it’s not her dream job, but it pays the bills and puts a roof over her head. Her days are spent peacefully enough cleaning hotel rooms, that is until she stumbles into Wonderland and discovers the secrets lurking within the hotel. Will this turning point be exactly what she needed or a tragedy in the making?

Word Count: 10196

Warnings:  Some blood and violence, people being bought and sold (it’s kbtbb my dudes)

The colors of the sky outside her window are just beginning to shift, soft pinks and purple coming in as the sun starts to set. Tsuneko lets out a sigh and checks her phone again, still no response from Shinobu. While not surprising, disappointment settle in her chest. It’s stupid to be upset, she shouldn’t be so emotional. She scolds herself, setting her phone down a little harder than necessary. Her desk chair creaks as she leans back and lets out another heavy sigh.

Kiyohito is curled up on her bed in a position that doesn’t look comfortable. The dark sable ferret is in a dead sleep with his tongue peeking out, any hope of him being a distraction are dashed. It’s her day off from work and she’s desperate to keep herself preoccupied. Her thoughts wandering is always a danger when she has down time, more dangerous when she’s left to ruminate on the shit show that is her life at the moment.

It’s been almost a year since her life officially went to shit and she started working at the Tres Spades hotel. It’s a glitzy place, the first legal casino in Japan. She’s a maid, spending all of her days cleaning up after people richer and more important than her. And that’s the highlight of her days, besides Kiyo, because otherwise she’s in her apartment just trying to distract herself.

The job itself is fine, given her situation, she’s damn lucky to have it. Good pay, plenty of hours, employee housing, her coworkers are mostly nice, and she even has lots of chances for overtime. But, she can’t say this is what she wanted her life to be. Being a maid isn’t exactly what she dreamed of for herself. Disappointment seems to be the theme of the day and her life.

She’s done her best to be a busy bee throughout the day; her dorm is cleaned, she’s baked, done her laundry, played with Kiyo until he passed out, messed with every entertaining app on her phone, watched any video on Youtube that caught her interest, and messaged Shinobu. Maybe she could try getting in contact with Runa? Not that she thinks it will do her a lot of good, but even getting told to fuck off is more fun than staring out the window.  

Tsuneko stands up from her chair, stretching her joints as she meanders into her kitchenette area. The dorms are nice, like one bedroom apartments essentially. Given how much she likes baking and cooking, a bigger kitchen area would do her some good, but beggars can’t be choosers. She grabs one of the cookies she baked and crams it into her mouth as she begins looking through her fridge. The sweet vanilla calms her nerves, if only marginally. But, she knows what will relax her most.

She groans, she’s out of booze. Of course. Her rum supply ran out last week and she downed her last bit of vodka yesterday. Looks like she’s gotta put on real clothes and stock up. A walk through the city might be nice to clear her mind anyway.

Her work ringtone echoes through the room just as she’s tucked Kiyo into his cage. She scrambles over to desk, stumbling over her own feet to do so.

“Tomori speaking,” she answers, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can pick out a change of clothes.

“Yes, this is Kenzaki, I’m sorry to bother you on your day off. But, we’re short staffed for this evening, between the I.V.C and some people calling off sick. Is there anyway you could come in? You’d be given over time pay, of course.”

“I can be there shortly.” She throws on a tee and shorts, sliding on her shoes.

“Please report to Matsuda when you come in, she’ll give you a work schedule.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of Erika, the head maid has always had an issue with her, what that issue is remains a mystery. There’s still a huge pile of cookies on the counter, her coworkers might appreciate a snack, especially with such a busy day. And eating all of the cookies herself is kind of sad, something she’s done before, but still sad.

She says her goodbyes to Kenzaki as she starts packing the treats away into tupperware, stuffing one more in her mouth. Tsuneko picks out a sticky note, jotting down what’s in them in case of any allergies or dietary issues. Content, she grabs them and heads out the door, double checking her dorm is locked before she leaves.

Working during the I.V.C is like a double edged sword. On one hand, she’s extremely busy which she likes. She loves being able to bustle around and always having something to do. The International V.I.P Convention is a huge ordeal for the Tres Spades, a giant party held at seemingly random intervals where the rich and famous gather to stroke each other’s egos. Tsuneko has the lowest seniority of the maids, so she doesn’t have to deal with the V.I.P’s directly. But, it stretches the entire hotel staff thinner and the worse part is dealing with the V.I.P’s in passing. It may seem minor, but those kind of people seem to take even the smallest opportunity to be a pain in her ass. The last time she worked some man in a suit worth more money than she’s ever seen flagged her down to ask a question, then mocked her for her dialect, acting like she was stupid. And that was after some snooty woman grabbed her in the lobby to scream about the toilet paper in her suite. Looking back, that might have been the only time Erika was nice to her.

The evening air is cool on her skin as she leaves the dormitories, the Tres Spades looming just a short walk away. It stands out even in Tokyo among all the other huge buildings. She remembers seeing it when she first visited Tokyo, thinking how over the top it was with its giant impractical spade shaped cut out. Her feelings haven’t really changed, it’s just more relevant to her life now, fortunately or unfortunately depending on the day.

Her nose wrinkles, the acrid stink of smoke hitting her nose as she nears the back entrance. An older schlubby man is lighting a cigarette near the dumpsters. There are stomped out cigarette butts around his feet; has he been out here chain smoking all day? The stench of smoke seems to drift off of him in waves, like the man sweats nicotine. Who even is he? He’s definitely not a worker and guests at the hotel generally don’t come by the back entrance. And, as judgemental a thought as it may be, he doesn’t look like the kind of person who’d stay at the Tres Spades.

He starts to look up from his cigarette and Tsuneko ducks her head down to make a beeline for the door, just avoiding eye contact with the stranger. If he caught her staring, he’s kind enough not to say anything as she darts through the door.

She drops the cookies off in a thankfully empty staff room, she doesn’t wanna deal with any hassles or questions. She’ll just have to pick up her tupperware at the end of her shift, hopefully no one tries to take it, the cute Pokemon designs makes it a favorite of hers. .

The employee locker room is just as empty, so no one will question why the stink of cigarette smoke is now clinging to her clothes. She’s never been so happy to change into her uniform. Just a touch of perfume for extra measure then she ties her hair up in the neatest ponytail she can manage. She makes sure she has everything she needs for the work day on her, before taking a deep breath and venturing into the hotel lobby.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the lobby is packed tight with people. Tailored suits and slinky gowns as far as the eye can see. The V.I.P’s bustle around and chatter, their words all blending into a cacophony of unintelligible noise. A select few members of the press are allowed in to snap photos and get quotes about the event. The party should be getting ready to move down to the ballroom, so with any luck this should be her only encounter with the V.I.P’s. Erika should be around here somewhere, given her seniority, plus she never misses an opportunity to kiss ass.

Tsuneko searches through the crowd for the familiar head of maroon hair. She carefully moves around people, muttering ‘excuse me’s as she goes, not letting her customer service smile and tone falter. Where the hell is Erika? She always seems to pop up when Tsuneko messes up, it figures, she’s nowhere to be found when she’s actually wanted.

Something warm and solid slams into her side, she’s knocked to the ground with a thud. A man looms over her with a scowl, she can feel the contempt emanating off of him. He’d be attractive, if he didn’t look like such an asshole. He’s tall, especially from her current vantage point, with layered oak brown hair and hazel eyes. Silence falls over the lobby, like the world’s been stopped. Everyone’s eyes focus  on them, expressions of abject horror. Hushed whispers start to fill the eerie quiet, something about ‘the king’, but she can’t make out anything more. This guy is important; she’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to realize that. Thankfully, she’s only one of the three.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she apologizes, customer service smile in place as she get back up to her feet. This doesn’t seem to appease him, he glares  at her like she’s garbage. Which while not inaccurate, is still rude.

“Get out of my way,” he demands with a sneer and brushes off the front of his suit, like he’s come into contact with something vile. Tsuneko takes a tentative step to the side and the man storms past her up the stairs. What a bitch. This is why she hates rich people.

A few people stare at the man’s retreating back, but once he’s out of sight, it’s like the whole thing never happened. The world starts spinning again and the lobby returns to its former state. She shakes her head, it’s not worth another thought, she doubts she’ll ever see him again.

“Are you okay?” A familiar kind voice asks, it’s Chisato, another maid at the hotel. She’s always been nice to Tsuneko and is among her favorite coworkers.

“I’m fine, that guy was just a dick.” Tsuneko says with a shrug, the crowd is loud enough she can get away with talking shit.

”Uh,” Chisato sucks in a deep breath, brown eyes soft with worry, “do you know who that was?”

“Should I?” Tsuneko doesn’t really pay attention to celebrities or the elite types, it’s all nonsense to her.

“Just what were you thinking making an idiot out of yourself!?” Erika’s harpy screech rises above every noise in the lobby. Her hands are on her hips and her glare is trained on Tsuneko.

“What were you thinking?” The twins, Rina and Kana, chime in from behind Erika with similar expressions, contributing nothing to the conversation.

“It was an accident,” she answers honestly, she was so focused on finding Erika she forgot to keep an eye out for where she was going. These things happen, all she can do is apologize and move on.

“It was your fault, you should pay attention to where you’re going!”

”I apologized, unless you have a time machine, there’s not much else I can do.”

”You have no business even being around V.I.P’s, especially if you’re gonna get in their way!”

”Oh, cause I’m sure your banshee screeches just make them feel oh so special.” Tsuneko and Erika glare at each other, she may be the head maid, but Tsuneko has never been one to bite her tongue.

“Go drop off all the special boxes in the basement storage room for the guests staying for the spa package, everyone else is too busy.” Her sharp gaze drifts over to Chisato at the last part, making it clear she shouldn’t offer any help. The task isn’t particularly difficult, just tedious and will take the rest of the day.

“Of course,” Tsuneko forces a bright smile and makes her voice sugary sweet, “maybe we should offer them some complementary ear plugs, as well.”

She scurries off before Erika can say another word, the head maid can screech into the void for all she cares,  she got her work for the evening and that’s all that matters. It’s a couple flights of stairs to make it to the basement, so the elevator is best, whoever decided maids should wear heels is an asshole.

“I can’t take it anymore! It’s over, you cheater!” A woman screams as Tsuneko rounds the corner. A couple is standing outside the elevator, the woman throws a small mask at a man in a tacky red suit and storms off past Tsuneko.

The mask bounces off his face and onto the ground, it’s  small and silver with intricate details. Judging by the man’s suit and the woman’s gown, they’re here for the I.V.C, which she doesn’t recall being masquerade theme. The man picks up the mask and tucks it into his jacket with a heavy sigh.

“Now I don’t have a date,” he murmurs then looks up, his gaze meeting Tsuneko’s.

“Excuse me, sir, I needed the elevator.” She points over his shoulder.

“You just saw the whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Ah, uh, yes. Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just take the stairs actually.” She turns around, content to evade the awkward situation, then a hand wraps around her wrist and tugs her back. He’s  pulling her towards the elevator, she instinctively tries to get out of his grip, but he’s stronger than her.

“Aw, c’mon, no reason to run away. I’ll explain everything when we get there.” He continues pulling her away, he doesn’t seem to notice or care about her trying to evade him. A part of her wants to deck him, but that will get her fired in a heartbeat.

‘Sir, leave me alone.” She keep her tone even and stern, hoping something will make it through his thick skull. One more strong pull and he yanks her right into the elevator, making her yelp. She’s met with the sight of broad back, blocking the elevator doors and button panel. He jabs a button, the doors slide close, what the hell is this guy’s problem?

“Whew, I’m lucky I found another date. There’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm.” He turns to face her, entirely too close, with a smile that would be charming in another situation. He’s trying to take her to the I.V.C, the ballroom is on the basement level, so that’s not that big of a deal. She just needs to get away from him once the elevator stops.

“Sir, I am not your date, I suggest you find someone else to accompany you.” She maintains her cool, taking a step back  as the weirdo inches closer. He’s acting like a desperate romantic, though he seems a little old for that kind of thing.

“What are you talking about? I was so lucky to meet a pretty girl like you.” Her back hits the wall of the elevator, he’s closed in on her completely. His hand cups her face, his breath fansn across her skin. Her cheeks feel warm, whether from anger or embarrassment she’s not sure. He’s not unattractive, an older man with shoulder length light maple brown hair. But, regardless of looks, he’s being completely inappropriate.

“Sir, I’m working, I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Her words don’t seem to have any impact, caramel brown eyes  busy taking in every detail of her face.

“Yeah, you’re just my type. This is fate.”

”I’d would hope fate wouldn’t be so cruel to me, sir.”

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open behind him with a ding.

“Let’s go, princess!” His hand is back around her wrist and he pulls her out before she has a chance to fight. She tries to step back and pull, or twist her wrist out of his grip, but she can’t manage. Punching him still might get her fired, but they can’t expect her to just let a guest do whatever he wants. Why the hell is he so strong?!

“Let go of me, now!”   

The noise of the ballroom drowns out her demand. She’s never been in the ballroom. She’s definitely never been in the midst of the I.V.C like this. The carpeting is a plush red, the walls have gold etchings, and white marble pillars are throughout the room. Everyone is dressed beautifully, perfectly tailored suits and designer gowns. They talk and sip from champagne flutes as they all bustle around. Spread of gourmet food are laid out, servers intermingle with the crowd, never letting a glass go empty for too long. An aquarium at the back of the room catches her eye, colorful fish swimming through crystal clear water, a dolphin passes through. The hotel owns a dolphin? She would have liked to know that. If the whole ordeal wasn’t a pretentious rich nightmare, she’d be into it. If only for the booze, food, and dolphin.

“Micchy!” A woman yells out and Tsuneko nearly slams into Stranger Danger’s back when he stops.. He lets go of her wrist and goes off towards the woman. All of this hullabaloo just to run off,  he seems more like a hormone driven teenager than a grown man.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” A voice asks just by her ear, their breath tickles and makes Tsuneko jolt. Her face feels hot as she turns to find the source; a man around her age with strawberry blonde hair and amber eyes. She’s clearly wearing a maid uniform, not a server’s.

“I do not.”

“You do work here, right? You’re looking around like Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, he’s cute, but something is off about him.

“I’m going to level with you, sir. I’m not suppose to be here right now, sorry.”

“That’s fine, hope you make it out of Wonderland, Alice.” His fake smile turns into a genuine smirk right as he leaves. Yeah, he’s definitely off. Still, cute though. She decides to shake it off and starts on her way out of the ballroom. It’s gonna take her forever to deliver those packages at this rate.

A sweaty hand grabs her wrist, bringing her to a halt, what the fuck now? The world is truly testing her today. It’s a stocky man in a garish green suit, he leers and looks her up and down, her stomach churns.

“Mhmm, I love girls like you. You wanna come with me to give me some special room service? I’ll make sure to tip you for the extra work."

“Gross.”

“What was that?”

“This is a hotel, not a brothel, sir." She’s able to break away from him much easier and starts towards the door again, he’s not deterred.

“You’re pretty lucky you met me. My net worth is 500 million,” he tells her, reaching out to touch her, she dodges him.

“Not enough for my dignity, sir." Her blood boils, at least Stranger Danger had the decency not to treat her like a prostitute. Does he really think her and the rest of the girls here are so beneath him and desperate for cash?Her hands clench into tight fists, she’s not allowed to punch guests. An unfortunate fact at the moment.

“C'mon, everyone has a price.” His hand presses against her hips, fuck this guy. She spins to face him, she needs to stop this, if she doesn't he's just going to hound every other female employee, until he finds someone he can bully into it. She’s not letting that happen.

“Look here, sir! I don't have the time, energy, or desire to deal with you disrespecting me and the hotel. I assure you, there’s not enough money in the world to convince anyone here to touch your pathetic excuse for a dick. Now, get your disgusting grubby hands off of me!” The color drains from the man’s face, when did the ballroom get so quiet? Just a few whispers, it’s like when she bumped into-

“This party is getting trashy,” a deep and sadly familiar voice rings out over her shoulder, making her jump. The asshole from the lobby was behind her, a group of women cling to and hover around him. They glare at Tsuneko, but asshole is glaring at the pervert. The look he gave her in the lobby seems downright kind in comparison.

“Uh, I'm so sorry Mr. Ichinomiya,” the pervert apologizes and runs off. Ichinomiya, that sounds familiar, but she can't place it. She rattles her brain for a moment, but she can’t seem to find it. The headache she has coming on isn’t helping. His eyes find hers, now that the pervert’s gone, the contempt has waned. It feels more like he’s looking at a fly under a microscope, like he’s trying to dissect and understand her.

“You again.”

“You again,” she mimics without thinking, her patience with the day is gone. His expression grows angrier, same for his groupies. She bites her lip to hold back laughter, normally she’d be more polite, but she just called a guest’s dick pathetic, so she might as well mock Ichinomiya, whoever he is.

“Get out of my way.” This seems to be his favorite phrase.

”Happily.”

“I hate when people don't know there place,” one of the women says as they move past Tsuneko. She forces a smile, but rolls her eyes once they’re gone and starts another attempt to leave this god forsaken party.

Her shoulder knocks into someone, making them both stumble.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her before going on about his business, as small as the exchange is, a friendly normal person feels like a breath of fresh air. Something on the ground catches her eye, a small good luck talisman. The cloth it’s in is a bit worn, black with small white rabbits. He must have dropped it when she bumped into him.

She tucks the charm into her pocket and finds his back in the crowd, she jogs after him. Calling after him does nothing, he either doesn’t hear her or doesn’t realize he’s who she means by ‘Sir’. His long legs take him further away quicker than her stubbier ones and she sees him go out door towards the back of the room. She manages to get through the door a few moments after.

The hall that greets her is absolutely empty, her heart sinks, he’s nowhere to be seen. Doors line the hallway, did he go into one of those rooms? She’d hate it if she wasn’t able to get it back to him. It’s clear he’s had it for a while, it must mean a lot to him. If push comes to shove, she may just have to put it in lost and found, but then there’s no way of knowing if he gets it back. She walks down the hallway, the dead silence is eerie after being surrounded by so much noise.

A few moments pass and she hears soft murmurs, they seem louder in the quiet hallway. There’s a door ajar, maybe that’s where he is, there’s a bounce in her step as she nears it. She peeks into the room; gunmetal glints in the low-light of the room. Suitcases filled with cash and guns are strewn across a table. Men in suits are standing around, speaking in a language she doesn’t understand. This is illegal, this is definitely illegal.  Her breath catches in her throat, she’s seriously watching an arms deal right now.

The world goes out from under her feet and she’s spun around, her back slams against the wall. She’s at least a foot off of the ground, large hands pin her in place and sharp blue gray eyes glare at her. Her heart hammers in her chest, like it’s trying to escape her rib cage.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is harsh and demanding. A part of her wants to fight, but if he’s involved with what she just saw…. There’s no guarantee he’s not armed. She’s not keen on being murdered.

“I got lost looking for someone, sorry sir.” She doesn’t let her voice break and maintains eye contact. Showing her fear won’t help anything.  He lets go of her and she falls to the ground, not too gracefully.

“You have five seconds to get out of here and forget everything you saw. Otherwise, you’ll be wiped off the face of the earth.”

“Understood.” She walks away, ignoring the impulse to run. Muscle memory leads her through the floor, the storage room shouldn’t be far away.

She steps inside, closing the heavy door behind her before she sits down on the floor. Her breath is shaky and she clutches her head in her hands, nails digging into the skin of her temples. What the hell is she suppose to do now?

She’s been threatened and there’s apparently gun deals going on in the hotel. People are getting hurt, there’s no way they aren’t if guns are involved. She can’t be certain how serious that man was about killing her. But, she doesn’t wanna test it and he didn’t seem like the kind of person to speak lightly.

Reporting it isn’t really an option; she has no evidence and there’s the whole being killed thing. Even if she is believed, if the hotel gets shut down, her and all her coworkers would be left without a job or home. Is the hotel even aware of this? Does Kenzaki or the owner know what’s going on here? Who even owns the hotel again? Some sort of CEO who’s head of a conglomerate group. What was it called again? Ugh, she can’t think straight.

She jolts to her feet, she needs to focus and get her shit together. Freaking out isn’t going to help anything. She needs to deliver those packages and go on with her work day, then she’ll drop the charm off in the lost and found. Work now, panic attacks later.

Tsuneko starts stacking up packages in her arms, her movements frantic and she nearly drops a few.. Her brain is a scrambled mess, she needs a dolly, she should have brought one over before stacking them in her arms. She’ll just carry the packages to the dolley, wherever the damn thing is. She can’t even see over the pile of boxes, she tries to look around them as she moves.

Something slams into her and knocks her back, the packages fall to the ground. A heavy thud rings out through the room, the sound of shattering follows. Her ass hurts and she can already feel the bruises forming. She’s spent the majority of this day on her ass.

“Fucking hell!” There are two men, they’re frenetic as they try to pry the lid off of a crate that’s fallen. She doesn’t recognize them, they’re not in any sort of Tres Spades uniform. Maybe they’re just here to move stuff?

The lid hits the floor with a clatter and she peeks inside, it’s filled with shards of what looks like broken glass. She can tell how high quality whatever the original object was from the quality of the material. It’s pristine and the light it catches reflects back iridescent.

“The statue's been smashed to pieces!” One of the men yells, his face turning red with rage.

“I’m sorry,” she struggles to keep her tone even, “I’ll talk to the manager, we’ll get it figured out.”

This entire day has been a mess, but if the worse thing to come out of it is having her pay docked for a decoration, she’ll be okay. It may be high quality, but she doubts a statue is worth too much. It’s just nice glass.

“This was the showcase piece for the auction! How are you going to pay for it!?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she says again, but what do they mean by an auction? The men glare at her and creep closer, she takes a step back as chills run up her spine.

“You think an apology is going to cut it? You owe us?”

One of the men makes a grab at her and she throws a punch. Her fist connects with his nose in a spray of blood. The man staggers back and she makes a run for the door. His cohort gets in the way and pushes her back, knocking her flat on her ass.

“You really think you’re gonna get out of here that easy,” he taunts, standing over her.

The crate brushes against her as she scrambles away, she grabs a large shard of glass from it and buries it deep into the man’s thigh. He screams out and a gush of blood spurts out as she twists the shard out of his flesh. She clambers back up on her feet and makes another run for the door.

A weight slams into her back, her face smashes into the ground, her scream muffled. He presses his knee down on her back, his nails dig into the cuts on her hand as he rips the glass out of her grasp. One hand keeps her wrist pinned behind her, the other searches her pockets. She writhes and twists, trying to get out from under him, but it does nothing. He tugs her phone from her pocket and throws it across the room.

“I got an idea of how we can make our money back,” the other man says.

Wheels roll across the floor, stopping in front of her. She can’t wrench her neck up enough to see anything else. The man yanks her up on her feet and her heart sinks. A large golden bird cage glimmers on top of a dolly. Her throat tightens and her stomach churns.

“Do you just have this shit on stand by!?”

“Shut up.” The man in front of her opens the cage door, the other pushes her forward. She jerks back;  kicks and stomps at the man’s feet. He digs his fingers into her hand again, pain jolts through her and her scream reverberate through the room. Taking advantage, he shoves her forward into the cage. Her hand sting as she catches herself, her head nearly smacking into the bars. They lock the door behind her, tears sting at the back of her eyes.

“She’s a little damaged, but she should still be worth something.” The men share a laugh at her expense, they can’t be serious. They can’t sell her, that’s ridiculous. She can’t get a deep enough breath, her lungs burn. She can hear the pounding of her heart, feel the thump of it against her ribs.

They roll her out of the room, slowly taking her through the halls of the hotel. It’s mostly empty at first, but slowly more people start to appear, moving random things. From art to what looks like a baby leopard, it’s a mishmash of things being carried through the halls. But, no one seems to care about her. It’s like this is just a normal everyday occurrence. She shakes the bars of the cage, they don’t budge at all, she yells out for help. Nothing. No one bats an eye.

“Hey, where’s the final item?!” A young man yells from beside a pair of double doors, inside it seems to be a backstage area. Her kidnappers start explaining that there’s been a change in item.

She pries a bobby pin out of her hair, it’s mostly lose already, her ponytail coming undone in the entire struggle. Taking advantage of  her kidnappers distraction, she snaps the pin into two pieces and starts trying to pick at the lock. Her hand stings with every movement and she can’t clearly see the lock, but she’s desperate. If she can get it undone, she can make a break for it.

“What the hell-” His words are drowned out by Tsuneko’s howls of pain, his blunt nails dig into her open cuts pressing into tender skin and making more blood flow. The two broken pieces fall to the ground, he lets go after what feels like hours and she yanks her hand back, holding it close to her as she presses against the other side of the cage.

Her eyes sting, a few tears stream down her face. The men only laugh at her pain, she focuses on their injuries, the man’s broken nose and the steadily bleeding wound on the others thigh. It’s a small comfort to know at the very least, she gave as good as she got.

She’s rolled through the double door and her suspicions are confirmed, it’s definitely backstage of this auction, she presumes. As pointless as it is, a part of her is still hoping that’s a joke. It seems so unbelievable, like something out of a horror movie or a nightmare. She’s tries to steady her breathing, to calm down even a little bit. But, it’s all in vain. Her heart beat is frantic,  she struggles to breath, her throat feels tight, and she struggles to keep more tears from falling.

The backstage is a bustle of activity as she’s taken to just beside the stage, still concealed from the audience, but she can look out and see what’s taking place. It’s a huge crowd of people,  they watch the stage with rapt attention, faces concealed by masquerade masks. A man on stage talks and moves dramatically, dressed in what appears to be a mad hatter costume. His face painted a stark white and his eyes an unnaturally electric shade of blue.

A small clang catches her attention, she looks up and one of the men attaches a hanging chain to the top of the cage. Someone starts pulling somewhere and the chain starts to lift the cage off the dolly. Tsuneko yelps, if she’s suspended, her chances of escape become slimmer. It ascends higher and higher, until she knows that even if she could manage to shake the bars lose or bust the cage open, she’d fall and break something or bust her head open. The latter doesn’t seem like a bad option at the moment, at least it might kill her.

Slowly her cage is pulled to the side, taking her to center stage. Bright lights and eyes all trained on her. She’s really being auctioned off, someone is going to buy her.

“I present to you, our showcase item of the evening! A healthy young Japanese woman. Yes, that’s you!” The hatter gestures towards her with a flourish and bile rises in the back of her throat.

“Yeah, I caught that,” she screams back at him, kicking the cage. The bars still don’t budge, the gilded cage is firm and shows no sign of busting open.

“I’ll start the bidding at one million!”

Even if she managed to escape the cage and managed not to hurt herself in the fall, she’s surrounded by the crowd. There’s no way she can avoid being grabbed.

“Keep her as your slave, keep her as a toy! Do whatever you please with her, it’s truly up to you!” The hatter continues, not caring about her distress. She kicks and shakes the bars, at this point more an explosion of anger than a genuine attempt to escape, she screams in frustration. Tears prick at the back of her eyes and she doesn’t care enough to stop them anymore.

In the front row of the audience is a stocky man in a garish green suit, the masquerade mask does nothing to hide the pervert from the I.V.C. He grins and bids on her.  She looks behind her and sees a screen just above her cage, a number on it rising more and more. More money than she’s ever seen. Her stomach churns and she kicks the cage again, no budging. The most she can do is make the cage sway back and forth, nothing shows any signs of breaking.

“She is a feisty one, all the more fun to break her,” the auctioneer taunts, all his actions colored with the flamboyance of a true showman.

“If I could reach you, I’d wring your fucking neck,” she screams, her throat raw from the force of it.

“Going once, going twice, sold to seat one hundred for twenty-million!” The hatter says as a bell dings, the number on the screen behind her has stopped. She can’t make out what seats are what numbers past the first couple rows. It’s not the pervert, he’s seat number five. But that doesn’t mean it’s anyone better.

The hatter closes out the auction; the lights die down and the curtains close. Tsuneko sits and pulls her knees to her chest, her cage lowers down. It’s settles back down on the stage with a small sound, it makes her feel just a tiny bit better, slightly less helpless than she was before. Someone is still staring at her, she can feel it, even while she’s curled up against herself. Peeking up, it’s the hatter. His harlequin style hatter costume is slightly unnerving, his unnaturally blue eyes are trained on her, his expressions seemingly curious. There’s something child like to it. Someone yells out and he jolts, like being woken up from a trance and goes scurrying off.

Her owner, her stomach churns at the the word, should be coming to collect her. Maybe, this will be a chance to escape. She’s not in the best state to fight, but maybe, just maybe, she’ll be able to take them down. She kicks again, a dull ache pulsing in her toes. She wipes away at tears, holding back sobs.

 Footsteps echo out, growing closer and closer. Two men make their way to her cage, the small silver masks do nothing to hide their identities. At this point she has to wonder if they truly serve a purpose beyond aesthetic. She can tell right away it’s Stranger Danger in his bright red suit and the cute but off guy from the party. If it was just the latter, she’d be able to take him. He doesn’t seem particularly strong, shorter and thinner than Stranger Danger.  But, she knows that the taller of the two was able to drag her around like a rag doll.

“This way.” Stranger Danger unlocks the cage door. She gives them wary glares  as she stands on shaky legs and steps out of the cage. Tsuneko hides her injured hand in her pocket, not wanting to give them an easy target if they decide to hurt her.

The men stay quiet as they lead her to an elevator, the only one that goes to the penthouse. Sure enough, once they’ve stepped inside Stranger Danger pulls the penthouse elevator key from his pocket. The doors close and the carriage lurches into movement. She knew they were V.I.P’s, but not very many people have access to the penthouse. Sakiko has mentioned some people who stay their. An artist, who’s name escapes her, and the owner of the hotel. Who the hell owns this hotel again? She’s trying to rack her brain for that name again, Ishi, something? Her brain is fuzzy from everything going on. But, if she’s being taken to the penthouse, surely the owner is aware of what’s going on. It would be hard to hide the auctions, especially at that scale, from the person who owns the damn place.

It’s a silent tense elevator ride, Tsuneko racking her brain for an escape strategy. She already knows she can’t fight Stranger Danger, but maybe she could make a run for it when the elevator opens, go for the stairs. But, if the owner is involved, she wouldn’t get far. She doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go other than the employee dorms. Waiting for a better chance might be the best idea.

The elevator dings and stops, doors sliding open. She’s never seen the penthouse suites before. They step into the hallway, red carpeting and doors along the walls. A huge pair of double doors standing out among them. The only employee she knows of that has access here is Kenzaki, even Erika isn’t allowed in the penthouse.

The pair push open the double doors and Tsuneko follows, it’s a lounge. Lavish, with plush chairs and couches. A large set of of red carpeted stairs lead up to another level, a large window covers almost the entire expanse of a wall, showing a view of the Tokyo Bay. There’s an extravagant high tech television mounted on one of the walls. Two men are in the center of the lounge; both of which she recognizes.  And there appears to be man passed out on one of the couches, he could be dead, she can’t be sure. The man who threatened to wipe her off the face of the earth and the asshole from the lobby, Ichinomiya, are in the center.

Ichinomiya. He’s the owner of the hotel. It hits her as hard as she hit the floor earlier. She sassed her boss. Prior to this auction nonsense, she’d be panicking, but the fear of upsetting her boss pales in comparison to the terror of being sold. 

“We’ve brought her,” the cute but off guy announces, he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. She’d like to punch him.

Ichinomiya sits on the red couch at the center of the lounge, crossing his legs as he looks her over. Him and the man who pinned her to the wall have intense stares, but she meets their gaze with the same ferocity. She’s not backing down. 

“We bought you,” Ichinomiya states.

“I noticed.” Her response seems to amuse him, a smirk plays on his lips. She’s just happy her voice didn’t crack.

“So, we ended up catching you after all,” the tall man who pinned her comments, his dark hair is slicked back and his eyes are sharp. Even without him having her against a wall, he’s kind of intimidating, or perhaps it’s just the situation making him seem that way.

“You know this woman, Soryu?” Ichinomiya asks.

“You could say that.”

“He threatened to kill me.”

“Yeah, sounds like Sor,” Stranger Danger says with a laugh, pulling off his mask and adjusting his fedora. Cute but off guy pulls off his mask as well, both completely nonchalant..

“Look, you can’t actually buy me, this is stupid,” she decides to keep talking, maybe the more she talks the more it will all make sense and she’ll be able to get out of this.

“Anything and everything’s for sale at the auctions. If there’s someone out there to buy it, you can sell it. There are no rules,” Stranger Danger boasts, no one here seems to care about the abject horror she’s been through.

“Yep, you can get stolen art, secret information about politicians, even hire a hitman,” Cute but off guy adds.

“This is actually the first time a person’s ever been auctioned off, though,” Stranger Danger’s eyes seem to soften a bit as he looks over at her, a shred of empathy seeming to make its way through.

“You must have done something pretty bad, huh?” Followed by the apathetic question of cute but off guy.

“I accidentally broke some statue, that was apparently expensive, or whatever.”

“The statue of Venus. If it’s worth anything, it’s here,” Ichinomiya states with confidence.

“You’re reckless as always. This woman isn’t worth anything,” Soryu tells him.

“I agree, let me go home.”

“But, it’ll be fun thinking up ways to use her.” Cute but off guy is smirking, he’s a shit head it seems.

“No, it will not.”

“Who gave you permission to speak? Don’t open your mouth unless I say so,” Ichinomiya demands; she bites her lip and keeps her glare. She wants to strangle him, she wants to actually murder her boss. This fuckwit puts her through hell and doesn’t even wanna let her talk.

“If you got a problem with it, would you rather go back to number five?” Soryu asks with a smirk, at least none of them seem keen on violating her in that way, but she just glares at him. She needs to stay calm, as difficult as that is.

“C’mon now, Boss…Sor. You should be nice to girls,” Stranger Danger talks again, he’s calling Ichinomiya boss, too. He’s really the one she needs to get convince to let her go.

“Listen,” she starts, no one stops her, “there no reason to keep me. My existence does not benefit any of you in any way, shape, or form.”

“You’re just trying to lower your value,” cute but off dude chimes in, he’s getting less cute and more gremliny with every annoying word.

“Besides, a cute girl has plenty of benefits.” Any brownie points Stranger Danger earned have vanished, his comment and wink makes her grimace.

“I sincerely hope you aren’t desperate enough to waste twenty-million on getting your dick wet.” She levels a glare at him.

“Looks like she already has you figured out, Baba,” Gremlin, as he’s now being dubbed, says through a laugh.

“You wound me, princess.” Stranger Danger, Baba apparently, responds with a dramatic sorrowful expression.

“You know about the auctions,” Soryu takes back control of the conversation, “we can’t have you running off and telling someone.”

“No worries, I haven’t suffered recent brain damage.” Though her face feels significantly bruised after being slammed against the floor, Soryu raises an eyebrow at her, “Worst case scenario, you kill me and best case scenario I end up unemployed and homeless. I have no proof, police wouldn’t believe me and you’d kill me for talking. Even if they did, if the owner of the hotel goes to jail then the hotel goes under and I’m out of my job and housing. I’m not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ichinomiya smirks “you didn’t seem too friendly earlier.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know who you were, so,” his glare harshens, but she’s not done talking, “look, I don’t even have a phone to call the police. I’ll sign an NDA, confidentiality agreement or whatever, I’ll give you the legal right to screw me over if I even think about telling people about the auctions. There’s no reason to keep me, I’m not worth twenty-million, I assure you.”

Soryu looks to Ichinomiya, he almost seems to be on board with her idea. Maybe he’s not that awful, if he supports getting her out of here.

“Boring!” Gremlin complains, she could wring his fucking neck, but she keeps her eyes focused on Ichinomiya. He makes the decisions here, that’s painfully clear.

“No,” Ichinomiya says as he gets up from the couch, “I determine your worth.”

“What!?” Her voice breaks more than she’d like it to, indignancy ruining her composure.

“We bought you, you belong to us. End of story. You’ll be staying in Soryu’s suite for the night, he’ll assure you don’t go running off.” He’s still smirking, despite the fact that Soryu looks absolutely pained. Ichinomiya leaves up the twisted staircase, pulling out his phone as he does so.

“Man, Soryu gets to play with Koro first, not fair,” Gremlin pretends to whine, but he’s smirking; who the fuck is Koro?

“Time for introductions,” Baba winks at her, “what’s your name princess?”

“.…Tomori Tsuneko,” she murmurs, she feels completed defeated, there has to be a way out of this mess.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Baba Mitsunari. I’m a thief, 35, single and ready to mingle. You can call me Micchan, Micchy, whatever you want.”

“Baba it is.”

“Pfftt, rejected. I’m Kisaki Ota, people call me the angelic artist,” Gremlin introduces himself.

“You already know Boss, so it’s Sor and Mamo’s turn,” Baba says, looking at the far less enthusiastic men.

“Kishi Mamoru,” The apparently not dead guy finally sits up and lights a cigarette.

“He’s a cop or unemployed, who knows?” Baba grins, “And the tall quiet guy is Oh Soryu, leader of the Ice Dragons.” Soryu looks so pained, you’d think he was the one who was just bought.

“Ice Dragons…?”

“Mafia,” Kisaki explains, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Enough of this,” Oh says curtly, “follow me, since I’m stuck babysitting you.” He strides out of the lounge without giving her another look.

“Sor’s kinda shy. You better go after him before he locks the door on you,” Baba tells her and she scurries off after Oh, who leads her down the halls towards one of the suites. She has to speed walk to keep up with his pace.

He’s stiff and rude, but if she’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty low of her current shit list. At the very least, he seems just as keen on getting her out of here as she is. His biggest concern seems to be keeping the auctions secret; she already told them she wouldn’t blab, but she gets the feeling if she steps out of line he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And the fact he still seems like one of the lesser evils here despite that, really says something.

She’s follows him into his suite, it’s easily five times the size of her dorm. They step into the living room, more than likely where she’ll be sleeping. The couch looks comfy, she’ll manage for the night. Oh starts pulling off his jacket, then unbuttoning his shirt. She catches a glimpse of bare muscles before she turns around, offering him something resembling privacy. It might seem naive, but she doesn’t think he gonna try anything, he seems pained by her presence let alone trying to touch her. Footsteps ring out, Oh walking past her shirtless. He’s in really good shape.

“Don’t get any weird ideas.” He steps into another room, a moment passes and then running water. Sounds like a shower, couldn’t he have started stripping down in the bathroom? She doesn’t really understand the point of the peepshow, she decides not to ponder on it too long and instead lets out a heavy breath.

She slumps onto the couch, exhaustion settling in to take the place of her anxiety. Running away isn’t an option, despite how tempting it is, the Ichinomiya Group has the power and money to find her anywhere. She’s not sure how far reaching the mafia is and she doesn’t want to find out. Even so, she has no intention of giving up. She’s got to convince Ichinomiya to let her leave. Though, clearly it isn’t happening tonight.

Tsuneko looks at her hand, surveying the damage done by the glass. It’s starting to throb and ache more. The largest mark is a nasty gash across her palm, then smaller cuts around her fingers. It hurts more when she bends or flexes them, but the slash across her palm is more concerning. She doesn’t think it needs stitches, but she isn’t a doctor, so who knows.

Something glints and catches her eye, from under the chair. She leans over to get a closer peek and her blood runs cold, it’s a gun. It’s not shocking, he was the one who threatened her after she saw the gun deal. But, she still can’t help being afraid. The potential of him killing her seems even more viable.

The water stops, doesn’t seem like a long shower, a minute or two tops. She tucks her hand back in her pocket and presses her back closer against the couch as the bathroom door opens. His hair is no longer slicked back, soft around his face, but it doesn’t look wet.

“You didn’t try to run away.” He was just testing her.

“I’m not stupid.” She can’t help the vitriol in her tone.

“That remains to be seen,” that earns him a glare, “As long as you keep behaving, I won’t do anything bad to you.”

“Got it.”

He walks around the couch to stand in front of her, she presses further into the back of the couch, he’s in her space. Oh cages her in, arms on each side of her head and hands on the top of the couch, he leans in until they’re almost nose to nose. She bites her lip and meets his glare, her face feels hot.

“I have no idea what Eisuke’s thinking, but let's make this clear. You better not tell anyone what you saw today. No matter what. Telling anyone else is the same as signing your own death warrant. Yours, your friend’s, and your family’s.”

“Got it.”

“You can use the living room and bathroom, just don’t come near my bedroom,” he tells her as he pulls away, gathering his discarded shirt and jacket.

”Understood. What about work? If I’m not there tomorrow people will get suspicious.” She’s not sure if they actually would, if any of them would care enough to notice, but any excuse to leave in the morning sounds good.

“You work as a maid here, right?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you remember to keep your mouth shut and don’t go running off, it’ll be fine. Understood?”

She nods as Oh leaves into another room, she assumes the bedroom. Tsuneko pulls off her shoes, her feet ache just a bit. He told her she could use the bathroom and a shower sounds nice, but she doesn’t have anything to change into. Plus showering in an unfamiliar place doesn’t sound too pleasant. There’s a shower in the employee locker room, she’ll wait til morning.

She curls up on the couch, carefully finding a position that won’t hurt her hand. A yawn escapes her, she needs to think of ways to get out of this, but she’s too exhausted to think straight. The whole ordeal has drained every last bit of energy she has. She closes her eyes and slowly drifts off to sleep.

[thehomierobbstark]

Let’s Talk About Sex: Intermission

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

Prompt: Erik’s a little upset after last chapter’s events…

A/N: So these intermissions are gonna be little breaks in between the main storyline. Basically they’re the random ideas I get that aren’t big enough for a full chapter.

For this one, I don’t think I’ve ever written this type of story before so I’m not super sure if I did it right. Let me know if you have any feedback! Also this story starts off in the past, then catches up to itself in the present. I’m not sure if the transition worked or if it was clear, but if you have feedback on that it would also be super appreciated.

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ok, now hold it in … 1…2…3… ok now let it out.”

You exhale, tasting the remnants of the Albuterol on your tongue as you drum your fingers against the counter, taking in a couple more practice breaths. You’re glad you have something to stay focused on to keep you from rolling your eyes in the most annoyed way. He just wants to help, Y/N.

“I swear Erik… I’m fine… baby can we please just-”

“No talking.”

“Baby I’m just-”

“Hush, Y/N.” He gives your words back to you, and you hush, eyes drifting up to the ceiling in a subtle, lazy eye roll.

“You not slick, I saw that.” You want to mock him so bad, but you don’t want to push it, knowing how on edge he already was from the whole situation.

*10 Minutes Earlier*

“I can’t find it!!” You hear drawers being pulled open and contents shuffling around noisily before hearing it slam and another one open.

You pad into the hallway, trying to cautiously peek around the corner into the now trashed bathroom. You see stuff thrown everywhere, hair brushes and picks scattered all over the counter and jars of various products littering the floor. You find Erik under the cabinet, pulling out even more items, making a complete mess.

“Baby, what are you doing?” You ask him, trying to step through the increasingly cluttered space.

“I’m looking for your medicine! Come on now, baby!” You hear the panic start to rise in his voice, and you hold your hands up in defense.

“Ok, ok, dumb question, my bad.” You try to alleviate his nerves with some light humor. “But hun…I just wanna ask one thing,”

“What? Wassup baby?” You hear the echo of his voice from inside the enclosed cabinet, still hearing him move stuff around. You chew on your bottom lip, hoping he’ll take the moment to laugh at himself and relax a little bit.

“Why would the medicine be under the sink, babe?”

The shuffling stops and he pulls himself out of the cramped space, head popping up. “Oh,”.

You laugh, shaking your head at him as you reach over to pop open the sink cabinet.

“Dumbass,…” you mutter, grabbing the inhaler off the second shelf before closing it and turning around, leaning on the counter.

“Uhh… you know you cleaning this shit up by yourself, right?” You point with the inhaler around the bathroom, and Erik just looks at you, the most unamused expression plastered there.

He looks so done with you, and if you didn’t still have phlegm clogging up your chest, you’d be doubled over in laughter right now. You didn’t mean to be laughing at your sweet, caring man, but you just couldn’t help it. Here he was, completely flipping out over something you’ve been dealing with since you were born, and it was the most entertaining thing to you. He was so spoiled, having lived with functioning lungs his whole life. What a baby.

“Look E, if that bitch death really want me, she gon have to come a lot harder than a couple coughing spells and some rogue spit.” You say, trying to acknowledge the issue and move it along.

“Ok Y/N, you talking that shit, but you was deadass bout to choke just now.”

“Actually now that I think about it, why are we talking about the past? Can’t we just move on?” you suggest fakely, starting to backtrack and change the subject now.  You were willing to move past this and write it off as an embarrassingly funny story until he started hitting you with the facts, and you realized he was being far more serious than you thought.

“Uh huh, sitting there talking all that mess with ya broke ass lungs.  Why you still wheezing, huh?”

He starts shoving stuff back into the cabinet, closing it before moving you aside to scoop all the stray items on the counter into a drawer before lifting you on it to sit. You make a face at the cold counter against your naked warm skin, but you don’t say anything. You don’t even give him an answer, not trusting yourself to do so without your voice cracking and you bursting into tears. (Ok, maybe you were being a little dramatic, but I mean, you and your broke ass lungs had feelings too, dammit!)

He takes the inhaler from you, standing between your still soaked thighs and he places it in front of your lips.

“Open.”

And thats how you found yourself, presently.

You comply, sighing as you do it. Checking with his eyes watching yours, he waits until you exhale fully, then gives you a pump of the medicine at the same time you inhale. He repeats the count again, and you drag it out, giving the medicine some extra time to clean out your airway before finally breathing out through your nose. You’re so glad you didn’t keep the accompanying attachment for the inhaler at his place too, otherwise he’d really have you fucked up. You already felt dumb for having him sit here and give you your medicine like you weren’t capable of doing it on your own.

“Okay Dr. Webber, you done now?” You swing your legs over the edge, feeling like a child in the nurses office waiting to be let back onto the playground.

“Don’t be calling me that old nigga,” he mumbles, reaching around you to grab one of the wash clothes hanging over the shower and flipping on the warm tap.

You watch him quietly as he runs the wash cloth under the water, rinsing it out and then repeating the action. When he gets the washcloth to an even warm temperature, he stops the sink to allow a small pool to collect before turning off the faucet and ringing the excess water from the cloth.

He helps clean you off, wiping away your sticky fluids from between your legs before rinsing out the rag in the sink, ringing it out and lifting your leg to start again.

If felt nice to be taken care of and fussed over, and you sit back and let him do his thing, knowing that he was busying himself because there was something on his mind he wasn’t ready to say yet. You wanted him to know that you were here and you were ready to listen, but you didn’t want to rush him, so you start off gently.

“E,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look him in the eyes. He acknowledges you with a glance up to you, finishing up wiping you off and dumping the wet rag in the sink and letting the water out. He braces himself over it, heaving a big sigh, head hanging down.

“Erik…” you try again, whispering, softly grabbing at his pinky with your index and holding it. You feel him squeeze you back.

You lean forward to let your head fall on his shoulder, eyes closed, fingers still locked, content with being with him like this. You just needed him to know that you were here, and you were staying, and that even if it took him hours to say what he felt you would still be here patiently waiting.

It takes a little while, but he finally pulls his face from the warm spot on your neck, pressing kisses onto your cheek and over your eyes until he reaches your forehead. He wraps you in both of his arms in a huge bear hug and hold you against him, resting his head on top of yours.

“You scared the shit out of me baby,” his voice is heavy, and you can hear the terror behind it as he takes in a shaky breath. You clutch him tighter, your heart skipping.

“And the worst part, was that you didn’t even seem to care.”

You pull back, your own breath starting to hitch as you look at his face, seeing the hurt there. Your heart ached. You would have never tried brushing it off so quickly had you known how much your asthma attack actually affected him.

“No,” You grab his face in your hands, wanting so much to take his pain away, “Baby no! I care! Of course I care! I love you Erik, you know that…”

“I know you do. But I’m talking about you, baby. You didn’t seem to care about yourself… and I didn’t know what to do. I just felt so stuck and helpless and then you sounded so bad…”

You didn’t want to interrupt him, wanting him to say everything he was feeling to help him verbalize it, but you also didn’t want him to start spiraling down a rabbit hole worrying himself with ‘what ifs’.

“Hey, hey,” You stroke his face, bringing it to yours and holding him there. “It’s okay, I hear you baby, I’m with you. Just breathe with me, okay?”

You caress his cheek as you slow down your breath by example, letting him sync up with you until you were both taking deep, steady breaths.

“I never meant to scare you, I promise. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You hear your own voice start to become choked up too, and even though you don’t want to, you let it come, tears streaming down your face.

You were upset to know that something you treated so casually made him feel this way, and you were upset with yourself for not taking how he felt into consideration when you reacted the way you did.

“I need to know that you’re in this with me, Y/N. I need to know that you care about yourself as much as I do. Cuz when you told me not to call the cops, I was so afraid of what could’ve happened…. and for a second I really thought I was gonna end up alone again…”

You heart all but shatters in a million pieces at the last part, knowing how hard it was for him to refer to the things from his past. Even though it hurt to hear, you were glad he was being honest to help you put things in perspective.

You didn’t realize how many offhanded, crappy jokes you were always making about yourself until you really thought about it. Degrading, dismissive, and crude jokes aimed at yourself had become an almost standard part of your personality, and you were always writing yourself off as part of a humorous anecdote.  It was a defense mechanism you’d picked up a long time ago in an effort to try and hurt your own feelings first before someone else had the chance to, and without you even noticing it had become the standard way you chose to speak to yourself.

It was no wonder Erik was upset; all he ever hears is you talk down to yourself. You take a moment to flip the scenario, trying to identify how you would feel if you were in Erik’s shoes, and you sniffle some more.

It would hurt your soul to hear Erik talk about himself so horribly and not take his health seriously, and you don’t need to hear anything else from Erik to understand where he’s coming from.

“I’m in this with you, Stevens. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You mumble into his lips, both of you looking into each others eyes.  He looks between yours for a few moments before he finally relaxes, belief from your words calming him.

He finally presses his lips into yours, kissing you deeply.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You mutter one last time, breaking the kiss.

“Y/N,”

“Yes?”

“I forgive you,”

“Okay,”

“But I’m still upset with you. So let me just kiss you, aiight?”

You smile, definitely understanding that statement.

“Aiight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Angst, Slight fluff, SoftBoi Erik,

Angst won out because it was the only other option people picked other than both 😂😂😂 #frthoyallsomeniggasforthatXD #isaidoneORtheother #bothwasn’tanoptionsis #howyouchooseanoptionthatain’tanoptionSIS

[five-hour-anxiety]

Valentines Day (and the Events Leading Up to It)

Summary: “Roman, why are you asking me for advice?” “I don’t know! Because normally I would go to Logan, but I clearly cannot for this!” (Or: five times Roman tried to ask Logan out, and the one time he really didn’t.)

Pairing: Logince

Taglist:  @zerogettie  @spacevirgil @tree4life25@thebiggestnaturaldisaster@pailettehazel@jordandobbertin@thecityofthefireflies @the-fabulous-kimball@azuranightsong @virmillion@erlenmeyertrash @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @the-sanders-sides@punch-you-with-friendship@moonshadowsiren @clovenpinetree@jughead-is-canonically-aroace@aplaceinthevoid @that-random-fandom-girl@zennyo @unring-this-bell @liz-a-bell @vir-gull

Author’s notes: hey what’s up, it’s another collab fic done with @liz-a-bell. Go yell at them too. Also, Deceit is in this one, and falls entirely in the sympathetic category. He just wants to be left alone, Roman, leave him alone.

Can be read on ao3 here!

Virgil:

“Roman, why are you asking me for advice?” 

 “I don’t know! Because normally I would go to Logan, but I clearly cannot for this!” Roman flopped onto Virgil’s bed as he spoke, whining.

 “Okay fine. Let’s see, you could just ask him.” Virgil drawled, holding out ‘could’ for a good four seconds.

 “No!” Roman whined, stamping his foot, “It has to be special! This is me you’re talking to!”

 “Okay, okay. What about, like, a sampling box of Crofters? You know, instead of a chocolate sampler?”

 “Perfect! He’ll love it!”

Attempt One:

 Roman thought he was being sneaky. He really did -- but there’s only so much he could do to keep this idea secret. Logan was picky about his jelly, even more so about Crofters. The side liked them all well enough, sure, but he had favorites and therefore only those flavors would be good enough for the box.

 Only the best for Logan, after all.

 So by the time he had all the flavors chosen, he was sure Logan knew what was going on. As much as he was loath to admit it, Roman was anything but subtle when he had breezed into the logical sides room and asked for the top ten flavors of Crofters.

 So it came as a complete surprise when the idea crashed and burned faster than his pile of notebooks from middle school.

 “Ah, how thoughtful Roman -- a box of Crofters in honor of our fan club anniversary!”

 Roman thought, for just one moment, the air had been punched out of him. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head, hands holding the Crofters sampler lowering down to his waist.

 “What?”

 “Why this is wonderful Roman! Would you like to join me for a tasting? I could even make some tea to go with it.”

 “No, that’s okay. You have fun with it.”

Patton:

 “Padre! You’re the heart and I need advice over matters of the heart!” Roman sighed, collapsing into the small couch Patton kept in his room for sleepovers.

 “Roman, hey! What can I help you with?” Patton, Roman guessed, must have been taking a nap. He fumbled around for his glasses as he spoke, and his cardigan was wrinkled and creased in odd places. “What kind of heart matters?”

 “How do ask I out a… shall we say endearingly dense man?” Roman asked, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to fix Patton’s appearance.

 “Hmmm, oh! How about a card? They make cards for everything!”

 “Yes, that could work! If I can make the right card it could make everything so much easier!”  Roman sprang up, charging towards the door with a new sense of purpose.

 “Perfect! So glad I could help kiddo!” Patton laughed, waving as Roman threw the door open and left after dipping down into a bow.

 “Well, I’ll see you later Padre, I have a card to make!” He called over his shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

Attempt 2:

 “Ah, Logan! Wait just a moment, I have something for you!” Roman huffed, coming to a stop behind the logical side.

 “Did you just-”

 “Run across the mindscape to find you? Absolutely, this simply could not wait.”

 Logan raised an eyebrow as Roman reached into his jacket, pulling out a handmade card. He presented it with a flourish, all but throwing it into Logan’s hands.

 “A...card?” Logan asked, holding it between two fingers as glitter fell off it in waves. “Thank you…?”

 “Open it, please! I worked so hard on it!”

 After shaking the card slightly to get rid of the extra glitter, Logan opened it up and read it.

 “Thank you very much, Roman, I appreciate the gift. I’m sure you are aware, given its nature, today is National Give a Card to a Friend day,” Roman’s jaw dropped as Logan spoke, “I regret to inform you that I have failed to procure a card to give you in return, but if you allow me a few hours I’m sure I could come up with a card almost as… lovely… as the one you’ve made?”

 “No, that's okay. I appreciate it, but I just wanted to give you something nice, there's no need to reciprocate,” Roman grumbled, turning away. “Have a good day.”

Deceit:

 “So you’ve tried twice already and it hasn’t worked?” Deceit sighed, trying and failing to walk away from the creative side.

 “Yes, clearly,” Roman huffed, throwing his hands up.

 “Well, you could just tell him how you feel.”

 “Yes, you’re right, that would never work,” Roman sighed, bangs flying up and off his forehead with the movement. “You’re no help!”

 Deceit watched as Roman did an about face and stomped off down the hall, slightly annoyed that Roman misunderstood. Not enough to chase him down and explain, though.

Attempt 3:

 Deceit stared down at the trash can, a sigh tearing its way out of his chest.  There, clear as day, were two bouquets -- one of red roses and the other a mish-mash of flowers that, if he could be bothered to do some research, probably meant something.

 He didn’t care enough though, so he let it be.

Thomas:

 “Wait, so let me get this straight-”

 “You can’t and you know it, Thomas,” Roman interrupting, hands flying up to form handguns with an eh, eh?

 “Whatever, let me get this right. You, an aspect of my personality, want to ask out Logan, another aspect of my personality.”

 “Think of it as self-love, Thomas.”

 “...Yeah, okay,” Thomas sighed, “So, you want my advice?”

 “Yes! Please! I’ve already asked all the others and none of their ideas worked!” Roman groaned, shoulders slumping as a hand came to rest on his forehead.

 “Well, I always like trivia. It lets you show off your knowledge of a subject, something Logan would definitely appreciate, while also letting you learn more about your date.”

 “Yes! Of course, you brilliant man! Oh, you’re just too clever sometimes!” Roman cried, halfway sunk out of the room already. “But it’s no surprise, Logan is your logic!”            

 With that the prince was gone, leaving a confused Thomas behind.

 “Good luck?”

Attempt 4:

 “Okay, so the other two wanted to have a trivia night -- will you be my partner?” Roman batted his eyelashes as he asked, having cornered Logan against the kitchen counter. Logan looked around and cleared his throat, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks.

 “Of course, it- it only makes sense you want the smartest side to be your boy- partner,” Logan stammered, slipping out of Roman’s range as he spoke.

 “You think I want you as my partner because you’re smart?”

 “Well, yes, that would be a logical conclusion.”

 “No, I want you to be my partner because you’re my friend!” Roman cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

 “Oh. Well, in that case, I suppose I can do so,” Logan conceded, raising a hand to his chin. “Do you know of the categories, yet? May I propose Valentine’s Day as one, seeing as the holiday is so close?”

 “No, we can’t do that one -- you know Patton will win that one in a landslide,” Roman laughed.

 “Oh, I see,” It may have been Roman’s imagination, but he could have sworn Logan frowned for a moment. Oh, well -- at least he got to spend time with the logical side tonight.

Joan and Talyn:

 This was going to be a bit hard to explain, but Roman was out of people to ask for help. So, much to Thomas’s surprise, he popped up while Joan and Talyn were over. Thomas was the first to notice him, of course, and upon doing so was quite animated as he frantically gestured for Roman to sink out. That, however, caught Joan’s attention and they quickly turned around, freezing at the sight of Roman standing in the corner before slowly turning back to Thomas.

 “....Thomas, what am I seeing?”

 “Uhh, Joan, meet Roman? Roman, Joan,” Thomas sighed as he moved to stabilize Talyn, who had been looking a bit light headed.

 After explaining the existence of the sides -- which took the better part of an hour -- Roman finally got to explain why he had chosen to pop up now of all days.

 “You want to ask out Logan, who is another part of Thomas’s personality, and you need our help?” Joan asked, rubbing at their temples. “Thomas, aren’t you like, oh I don’t know… a little concerned here?”

 “It’s like self love, Joan, just taken to a new level. I take it the trivia didn’t go well, Roman?” Thomas asked.

 “You’ve already had this conversation? You know what, no, nevermind. Roman,” Joan turned back to the prince, “Have you tried a movie night? With just Logan?”

 Roman was quiet for a moment, brow furrowed in thought.

 “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Thank you, you magnificent human!” Roman cried, beginning to sink down, before popping back up once more. “Thanks for these marvelous new outfits, by the way. May I suggest a bit more gold for the next one?”

 He was gone before anyone could respond.

Attempt 5:

 “Logan!” Roman cried as he flounced into the logical sides room. “I would like to propose a movie night! We could watch a documentary, I do believe there’s a new one on the formation of black holes out on Netflix.”

 “That does sound fun, but might I suggest we watch something you would enjoy as well? I don’t want you to fall asleep in the middle of the movie after all,” This statement was accompanied by a fond smile, but Roman seemed to miss it. He focused instead on what he felt to be a rejection.

 “No, no, that’s quite alright Pocket Protector. I’ve, uh, I’ve just remembered I’ve got some work to do before the next video,” Roman sighed and turned to leave. Logan watched him go, a frown quickly replacing the smile he reserved only for Roman.

 As he sunk out to retire to his own room, he failed to see the tv on with the documentary already queued and ready to go.

Roman (+1 Success):

 Roman hadn’t slept well that night. After leaving Logan in his room, he had stomped into his own, proceeded to take a page out of Virgil’s book and put on a playlist consisting of pg-13 music. By the time he had grown tired of the music, it was three in the morning.

 Not to mention Patton waking them up all up at six am so that the fam-ILY could start of Valentine’s day with plates full of heart shaped pancakes, resulting in a mere three hours of fitful sleep.

 It was noon by the time Logan was alone and by then Roman had had it up to here with romantic gestures. He was on his fifth cup of coffee and still in his pajamas when Logan asked him to come into the kitchen.

 “Roman, thank you for joining me. I was hoping to get your opinion on a few things.” Logan said, smiling at him as he gestured for Roman to sit with him.

 “Sure, Specs, what can I do for you?”

 “Well, I have this dilemma. There’s this person I like and I have been attempting to ask them to join me on various outings all week, but have been continually misunderstood,” Logan sighed, leaning back against the counter, “As the creative aspect, I had hoped you would offer some insight so as to make him understand my intentions?”

 Roman, in a fit of sleep deprivation, snorted. The snort turned into a full-blown laugh and soon he was doubled over at the knees fighting to catch his breath.

 “Are- are you kidding me?” He asked, still short on breath, “Go ask someone else, I am nothing but a failure in that department!” He turned to leave but stopped short when Logan grabbed his elbow.

 “You… are trying to win over someone?” He whispered a look on his face that Roman couldn’t quite name. “How- Could you walk me through what you have attempted? Maybe that could help me… or, well, nevermind.”

 “No, hey, Specs -- I’m sorry. It’s just,” Roman rubbed at the back of his head as he spoke, a shy smile on his face, “I was trying to ask if… well if you would go out with me, all week. But I realize now that your lack of interest must have been due to your own infatuation with another.”

 “You...you think I like someone else? And turned you down because of it? Roman, that couldn’t be any further from the truth! I have been attempting to ask you out all week as well! We must have both become so caught up in our own attempts that we missed the others.”

 To say Roman was shocked would be an understatement. He stared at Logan a good thirty seconds before he could say anything.

 “You...were?”

 “Yes! I asked you join me for tea when you gave me that Crofters sampler, I wanted to make you a card in thanks for the one you made me, I suggested Valentine’s Day as a trivia category, and I even wanted to watch a movie you would enjoy.”

 “Oh. I guess I was just being rather dense then,” Roman blinked, his brain still trying to process the new information. “So, hypothetically if I had shown up at your door earlier this week with a dozen roses and flat out told you how I felt… it would have been reciprocated?”

 “Why, yes -- I had also obtained a bouquet for you, but threw it away when I decided it would not be a grand enough gesture for you.”

 “Deceit will never let me live this down,” Roman groaned, but quickly perked up and grasped Logan’s hands. “So! Logan, my dear -- will you do me the honor of being my Valentine?”

 “I thought you’d never ask,” Logan laughed. Roman whooped and picked Logan up into a twirl. “No really, I thought you’d never ask. What a wonderful, unforeseen event!”

 “I tend to bring about a lot of those, yes.”

[deathtonormalcy56]

I Confess - Part 8

Summary: After confronting Sam, the reader chooses to run away to start a new life as far away from the Winchesters as possible. But what happens when she’s gifted with an unexpected surprise?

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, and a surprise OFC!

Word Count: 3157

Warnings: Mild angst, mention of terminal illness (god don’t hate me), some nice resolution and fluff (?) at the end

A/N: This is it. This is the final part of I Confess. Honestly, posting this makes me so emotional because it’s grown so dear to my heart. Even though it took me basically a whole year to get it done, I’m sad to see this finally come to an end. Thanks again for all the support you all have shown me and for all the love you’ve given this story. I hope you enjoy the ending as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. xoxo

I Confess Masterlist

The events that followed the night Sam left were a blur. His silhouette gliding out of the motel room burned too bright, overshadowing the details of your great escape. After twenty years, all you could muster were glimpses of you hastily packing the little belongings you had brought with you, and sprinting in the cool night towards the nearest bus stop. At the time, you didn’t care about the end location. It was just about your departure, and being as far away from the Winchesters as you could be.

Eventually, you found yourself in a small town off the coast of Washington. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, making you a complete outsider. You didn't mind at the time. You weren't planning on settling anywhere. The goal was to hop from place to place across the continental U.S. – just long enough until you found the perfect distance where the invisible cord between you and the boys would snap from the mileage.

Well, that was the goal.

Finding a vacancy in a family run cabin rental joint, you had decided to stay only as long as necessary to scrape up enough cash to scram before anyone got too attached. But everyone knows how small towns work – they’re black holes that suck you in with their charm and sense of belonging. Which is what drew you to stay like a bee to honey, wasn’t it? To fit in? To have a new place to call home?

You had noticed the way the cabin owners – the Jones - glanced at you as you would walk to the main lobby for whatever toiletries you needed to be refreshed that day. It was one of pity and the desperate urge to help the poor woman who was all on her own.

By the end of your first week, the older couple pulled you aside and offered you a full-time job at the front desk and your current cabin as your permanent residence. Mrs. Jones gently placed her palm on your tightly closed hands, and her soft, yet sweet, plea to agree was all it took.

Just shy of two months in Washington, you awoke one morning utterly sick to your stomach. Thinking it was the typical stomach bug, you begrudgingly made your way to the office to ask for the day off. But you had barely finished your sentence before Mrs. Jones interrupted with a kind-hearted chuckle.

“Oh sweetie, that isn’t some stomach flu- trust me. This ol’ lady knows a little something, something about morning sickness.”

You remember laughing nervously. The high-pitched cackle reverbed off the tan walls. Sure, you had been busy in the last three months, but there was no way in hell you of all people were pregnant. But after a straight week of being triggered by any slight smell, making an appointment with the OB/GYN didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

“(Y/N), I have the results,” Bridget’s voice, the doctor, crackled over the phone as you anxiously bit your fingernails, “It seems like Susan was correct, you’re going to have a baby.”

Bridget continued to go on and on but all you heard was static. You, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), hunter of all things that go bump in the night, were going to be a mother. “Now there’s only one thing that’s kind of important to know, if it’s okay with you,” Bridget continued, “who’s the father?”

Bile rose in your throat, and you weren’t sure if it was another wave of morning sickness, or because you realized that you had no clue how to answer her question. Again, you had been busy, and it wasn’t exactly like you were completely devoted to one within a span of two and a half weeks.

Quickly you indirectly answered her inquiry – making some story up about how he was a one-night stand gone wrong. Bridget bought it easily.

The next months were spent waiting for Ezra, your baby girl. As nervous as you were, you found delight in the little things that came with the preparation of her arrival. Scouting for the perfect crib and nursery decorations, meticulously picking out the cutest clothes with Mrs. Jones. You even had your very own baby shower.

Enamored by it all you pushed the still unanswered question into the depths of your mind. The thought of who’s Ezra could be wasn’t shown the glimpse of day until September 20th – the day you finally held her in your arms.

Her tiny finger attempted to curl around yours, her face softened as she drifted off to slumber.  Her lips pouted but curved into a slight smile that revealed two dimples in her cheeks. As you watched her go in and out of sleep that night, you etched every detail of her into your memory. From the way her hair settled neatly on her head, to how she giggled out loud while she dreamt. 

Though what caught your attention were her eyes. Nothing like yours, they sparkled in the white light of the hospital room. Her irises were crystal clear, so clear you could see the variations of color swirl together to create one beautiful masterpiece.

There was only one person who had eyes like Ezra’s and you didn’t need a paternal test to prove it. You just knew.

Just like that motherhood was added to your list of talents. Was it easy? No, but years full of laughter, late night cuddles, movies, and even some tears flew by nonetheless. Your new life with Ezra was nothing less than perfect.

Well, it was perfect.

Before you knew it, it was Ezra’s twentieth birthday – your baby was all grown up. Humming along to the radio that was softly playing, you shimmied around the kitchen as you began the necessary steps to make the best – what you thought would be at least – birthday cake when you were overcome with a coughing fit.

You brought your hand up to your mouth reflexively and didn’t even think anything of it until you pulled it away to find it speckled with blood. Hearing you from the other room, Ezra popped her head in to make sure you were alright.

“Mom, you ok-,” she paused, noticing the splotches of red on your palm, “Get in the car. Now.”

Ezra had always been stubborn. It didn’t matter how many times you tried to reassure her that you were completely fine and to let you prepare for her birthday, she silently dragged you to the car and hopped into the driver’s seat.

You continued to tell her that and even told the doctor at the hospital that there was nothing, whatsoever, that could be wrong with you. You drank enough water, ate enough vegetables, and were still fit for someone your age. You were practically invincible.

After a couple of painful hours of flipping through the cheap cable provided by the hospital, your doctor came back with a multitude of test results. Glancing up at his gloom face, your stomach immediately dropped.

"Ezra, you might want to sit down," his words were shockingly smooth in comparison to his demeanor, "(Y/N), I got the test results back and-and they came back positive for lung cancer.”

Much of what he said after that was white noise. The only words that came across were ‘cancer' and ‘far along.' Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ezra slumped in her chair. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she hung onto every word the doctor said.

“So, she can get treatments, right?” Her voice didn’t quiver as she intently stared at him.

“Yes,” he answered tentatively, “but in (Y/N)’s current state it isn’t likely that it will work. That’s not taking into consideration how the after effects of the treatments would take a toll on her body in the process.”

“No,” you spoke up, your voice much softer than you intended. The doctor and Ezra shifted their gaze towards you for the first time since he came in. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the tingling sensation of a cough down and continued, “I’m not doing the treatments.”

Ezra’s eyebrows scrunched together, her mouth agape as her brain processed your words. “Mom, no,” she stuttered out, “you have to -.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” your eyes slid over to meet hers. Her face flinched the slightest under your heavy gaze. “I’m not going to spend the last months of my life in pain just for the chance to increase my longevity by a couple of hours.”

The air in the hospital room was thick. You could feel the doctor eyeing you cautiously. This couldn’t have been the first time a patient had opted for no treatment, but you knew your decision affected him nonetheless. He dedicated his life to helping people, people like you, and you threw it back ungratefully. 

“But mom, please.” Ezra’s voice came out as a broken plea. Her eyes begged for you to reconsider, but there was no going back.

Licking your lips, you gave her an apologetic glance before quickly breaking it. “So, doctor, you know my choice,” you were surprised at how steady your tone remained although on the inside you could sense the onset of fear, “can I go home now?”

And that is how the end of your life begun.

Shortly after you were discharged from the hospital, the guilt of lying to Ezra about who you were before her birth slowly ate at you. You knew you couldn’t move on from this world without telling her the truth. Which is why one late afternoon you plopped yourself down at your desk with nothing but a blank leather journal and a plain black pen.

Using the cracks of sunlight that filtered through the wooden shades as your light, you began to write.

You wrote the story of a young woman who had needed to lose everything in her life for the random chance to gain it all back with one encounter with a tall, shaggy-haired guy at a bar and his doofus big brother. How everything she had thought about the world was torn to shreds, as she learned about every possible thing that goes bump in the night. One of heartache, pain, and the struggles of two boys and a girl who wanted nothing more than to save the world, of unrequited love and one mistake.

More importantly, it was the story of you and everything that had to precede before you could start your life with Ezra. It was a story for Ezra.

Unsure of how you managed to chronicle the last couple of decades of your life in only one night, you couldn’t help but faintly smile as you ran your fingers against the soft cover. Satisfied with your work, you snuck it into your bedside table where it remained until the perfect moment.

Six months passed and you enjoyed every second of every day that you had with Ezra. Yet even the joy you had couldn’t prevent the reality of the situation at hand. Your health deteriorated until it became difficult for you to even shift in your bed.

One Wednesday morning you were blessed with a beautiful view. The birds were chirping, and the sun rays were just beginning to peek over the snowy mountain tops. Ezra was lying next to you, telling you some silly story from school, but it was too strenuous to focus on her. It was too strenuous to do much of anything.

"Ezra, honey, can you do me a favor?" Your voice was thin and airy, the sentence almost inaudible to the untrained ear. You couldn't help but put on a feeble smile as her face perked up from the request. Imprinting the image in your mind, you slowly stated your request, "Could you get me something from my bedside table? There should be a brown leather book somewhere in there."

Without any resistance, Ezra slid off the bed and padded over to your bedside table. Moments later she carefully, any sudden jolt hurt you immensely at the time, sat back down next to you with it in hand.

"Baby, I know you don't want to hear this, but it's time," the words were faint. So faint as to make you believe that she hadn't heard you until her hand slid over the bed sheet to gently cup yours.

You watched as Ezra sucked in her lower lip and clenched it between her teeth – a terrible habit she had gotten from you. She did not meet your eyes, simply burrowing them into the book on her lap.

“Ezra, there’s -,” a throaty, wet cough interrupted your sentence. Your daughter immediately jerked up at the sound in concern, but you threw your palm up just as fast to stop her. Dragging the back of your hand against your mouth, you continued, “There’s something I have been wanting to tell you for a long time – about where I came from, how you came to be, but more importantly where part of you belongs.

I – I never told you out of fear. The fear of being hated, or judged, but when I was given the exact timetable of the rest of my life I knew I had to come clean. That book in your lap isn’t just some other journal, sweetheart. It’s the story of me.”

“Mom, I don’t understand,” Ezra quizzically glanced between you and the journal.

Another cough raked through your body, this one harder than the last. You groaned as the fit stalled to an end. You knew you didn’t have much time. With the little strength you had left, you gave your daughter’s hand a slight squeeze, “Read it, Ezra. You’ll understand when you do.”

The edges of your vision blurred as you let yourself sink into your pillow. “Mom?” you heard Ezra speak out, but the sound was distant. More difficult than you had thought it to be, you turned your head to face her. You could see worry lines crease in her forehead as your breathing became labored, but you used what limited energy you had left to zone in on her eyes.

“I love you, baby,” black spots shoved their way into your eyesight, but failed to block the glistening tears that streamed down Ezra’s cheeks, “Momma loves you so much.”

Ezra stumbled out of her car and almost fell face first onto the white gravel at her feet. Managing to grab hold of the edge of the door, she caught herself with a grunt. “Way to go, Ezra,” she mumbled as she stretched her tensed muscles, “You’ve finally summed up enough courage to face the other owner of half your DNA and you were about to do it with a face full of small pebbles.”

She sucked her teeth as she grabbed her backpack from the backseat and slammed the door shut. Anxiously she walked down the pathway, searching for the large brick half-moon and metal door that you had described for her in your journal. Pulling out her phone, she glanced at her GPS to double check she was heading towards the right direction.  

“Okay,” she huffed as she shrugged her backpack further onto her shoulder, “based off the coordinates mom gave me, the entrance should be right…about…here.”

Peeking up from her cell phone, Ezra took a small circle around herself. Lo-and-behold, there was the door, just like you had told her. She shoved her phone into her back pocket and hip-hopped down the cracked concrete stairs to knock on it.

Swaying back and forth on her heels nervously, she gnawed on her lip as she tried to pull together some sort of opening line. Getting stuck between something along the lines of ‘Hey, you don’t know me, but I know you,’ Ezra failed to get her wits together before the door creaked open slowly.

“Can I help you?” A tall man in a red button-down gruffly asked. Ezra blankly stared at him, unsure of what to do or think. Seeing that she wasn’t a threat, the hand that was obviously holding something behind his back slowly moved to relax at his side.

He opened the door a little wider, letting Ezra see a bright set of green pupils analyzing her every movement. “Hey, Sammy,” he called out behind him uneasily, “I could use your help over here.”

Within seconds an even taller man approached the entryway. Running a hand to move a couple of long strands of hair out of his eyes, Ezra watched as his features curled into confusion, “You needed help with a probably lost teenage girl?”

“I – I’m not a teenage girl, I’m twenty,” she stuttered, but Ezra kept her eyes glued to them. They were older than how you had described them in the story, but she knew who they were. Hastily she slung her backpack forward to pull out the journal you had given her a month ago.

Timidly she gestured for them to take the book out of her outstretched hand, “And I’m here because an old friend of yours sent me. She gave me this to help in the convincing part.”

“An old friend?” Sam questioned as Dean cautiously grabbed hold of the now worn leather. Ezra folded her hands in front of her and nodded as Dean flipped open to the first page. His eyes grew wide as they scanned the yellowed page, “Sam, this is (Y/N)’s handwriting.”

“What?” Sam exclaimed and snatched the book out of his brother’s hands. Closing it just as fast, he directed his attention back to Ezra, “How did you get this?”

Ezra gulped at the amount of force behind his question. Fidgeting with her fingers, she rocked back and forth once more, “Well, let’s just say I know, uh (Y/N) pretty well. I actually know you guys pretty well too, thanks to that book you’re holding.”

Sam and Dean stood frozen in the doorway. Ezra could see how perplexing this all was for them, and she hadn’t even made it to the nitty-gritty part of the reason as to why she made the trip to the bunker in the first place.

“Look,” she restlessly threw her hands out in front of her, “if you want to know all the specifics about how I know (Y/N), it’s all in the journal. But, that��s not entirely the reason why I came here. I came here because there was something that she wanted to confess for the last twenty years, but never knew the right way to do so.”

“And what does that exactly have to do with you?” Dean inquired.

Taking a shaky breath, Ezra swiveled between them before landing on the one set of eyes that perfectly matched her own. She stifled a giggle at the irony of how you had been nothing but right all along.

“Because,” her lips curved into a hopeful smile, “I’m your daughter.”

Forever Babes:  @skybinx-blog @winchesterhunters67 @ashiewesker @heaven-bound-angel @iwriteaboutdean @thegreatficmaster @destiel-addict-forever@too-much-winchester @thatshellfiredean @chelsea072498@thewalkingmombie @fabulouslyboredeveryday @dumblefedoratheexplorer@kydamyankee @purgatoan @mysteriouslyme81 @fangirl1802 @chelsea-winchester @imanunbrokenfangirl @riversong-sam @notnaturalanahi@nephiliim @mogaruke @missmotherhen @adaliamalfoy @babypieandwhiskey@supernaturallymarvellous @hamartiamacguffin @feelmyroarrrr @super100012@27bmm @ahnanamouse @mamaredd123 @bohowitch @love-yourself-first-tfw @cyrilconnelly @arryn-nyx @crazynerdandproud @unkindnessphalanges

Series Tags:  @anokhi07 @lullabyjensen @deansleather @percywinchester27@sevendevilsinmyimpala @redheadglitter89 @hola-misha-minions@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @your-average-distracted-waffle @mrsbatesmotel53 @nerdwholikesword @sandlee44 @wildfirewinchester

[iameverything]

A Conversation: Featurette

“Featurette are Toronto-based duo that was formed by singer Lexie Jay and drummer, Jon Fedorsen. Like their synth-heavy dream pop contemporaries Phantogram and Tove Lo, FEATURETTE are influenced by the emotionally charged, heavy hitting electro-pop sounds coming from Northern Europe and New Zealand.”

First off, you recently released your new music video 'White Rabbit' and its damn mesmerizing, from the colors, to the costume (the rabbit costume kind of looks similar to the rabbit that was in The Masked Singer) How has the reception been for the video so far? The reception has been spectacular! Literally the story behind this one was my friend Sharon and I were sitting on a couch and I asked her what could we do that would be one idea, easy to do, that would be super memorable and dark. After much spitballing we came up with grave digging - and the rest is history! People have seemed to really connect with our post apocalyptic/area 51universe we set up so I’m pretty stoked on that :) For a couple of dreamers with 4 hours to shoot, a minimal budget and a crew of 3, I’m honestly so proud of the video. It’s punchy and striking and hits all the high notes!

Are you guys subtly hinting at a Joey Fatone of NSYNC collaboration soon (He was the white rabbit in The Masked Singer)?!!!   OMG I’ve never even seen that!! I just looked it up how crazy!! We’re not, unfortunately haha! It was a dream all our own that I think landed in a very different space! Spoiler alert, the masked rabbit was Jon haha

What was the writing process like for 'White Rabbit'? What inspired it? One of the things that occupies the most space in my brain is the state of our planet right now. I’ve written political and environmental warrior songs before, but this has been by far the most impactful. Of course we masked it with some striking alien visuals to cast a wider net in the video, but really the concept was just about setting the scene for digging a grave for humanity. The lyrics for this one were just like writing poetry for me, it really flowed and came on quite fast - the song itself came together quickly, but then the production was obviously an absolute undertaking. It’s very involved. But what’s neat with that is the further we went down the *cough* rabbit hole *cough* the more inspired we became and the further we pushed the vocal recording. Some of those choirs we built for the background just stack up for days - the outro for example, totally inspired by production because we wanted to create extreme contrast to the electronic heavy-hitting production. The result was pretty striking, it’s something we’re really happy with.

The first time we met, it was an interview you did for JUNNNKTANK (RIP) 2 years ago, when you released the song '//Bang//'. It's been too long, how has it been going since then? RIP Indeed! So much has happened - it’s been fairly internal for us, we’ve been writing non-stop to finish up this album coming out in Jan, 2020!! To recap the year: We released Million Things and the cat-filled 90’s dance troop music vid to back that up in the spring, followed by some shows. Then came the single Don’t Know Me Without You followed by the GORGEOUS black and white music video, followed by a fall tour supporting that. Then came White Rabbit and the aforementioned music video for that which we paired with the sold out Mother Mother show at the end of our fall tour. What a blast!! Now we’re staring down the barrel of the release and I’m stoked!!!

2016 was the last time you guys released your debut album 'Crave' and I must say, as like any other fan, we are 'craving' more albums. When should we expect the next? How is that writing process going? Dude. It’s here - we are like WEEKS AWAY!!! January 2020, PREPARE YOURSELF!! Spoilers in my insta story RUN, DON’T WALK!! hahaha More teasers to come in the coming weeks!!

'//Bang//' being your last video you put out 2 years ago before 'Million Things', what was that like to go back into 'lets make a video' mindset after so long? And what was happening within the middle of that time fame between the two videos? I mean it was a *year and a half* before Million Things if you want to get technical (LOL)  but it was less ‘let’s make a video’ and more…  we’re back. In the middle we were writing the album we’ve been teasing all year - three singles this year, and we’ll give you one more along with the album in January - we’ve climbed a serious mountain! I’m also (pray for me) aiming to make another music video for January. Fun fact, I did the production design and wardrobe/makeup for all videos we put out in 2019 - really love making them so I hope you’ve enjoyed watching them!!

Considering we all change as humans over a course of two years, so four years being a bigger change, and you guys being artists, so having to adjust at a quicker rate to new music trends or ideas, how much of a change from style and writing can fans expect for the next album? The album coming is very like the singles we put out this year. We tried to show as much breadth as possible - Million Things being the ‘indie pop’ side, with lots of punch, upbeat, fun etc. and then we hit the ‘deep album track’ end of thing with DKMWY. That one was darker, moodier, heavily electronic but still in your face. More recently we showed White Rabbit which was like our ‘art track’ for the album. You can expect more in each category of those! We’ve got 9 songs, and we honestly cover so much ground, while trying to maintain our sound. I think the sonic place we’ve landed is very much still FEATURETTE, but louder. More confident, more to say, we found our voice. You know?

Whats the secret to keeping content fresh and not falling within the loop of same old or losing inspiration? Omg I’m not even worried about that at all - Jon and I write all the time. We have maybe 50 songs we’ve written that are either waiting in the wings, or just something we had to get out after a crazy session at 3am haha! I think when you write all the time you can find what you start to gravitate too, and then working to develop those ideas you can start to find things that work. And those even inspire new songs! We don’t see this as our job, so we never get tired of it, which helps keep it fresh for sure.

Speaking of new, you guys released another music video titled 'Dont Know Me Without You' and you mentioned in another interview it was darker than your last single 'Million Things', is there certain head space you guys have to be in to write those kind of songs perhaps seclusion? How has the reception been from Fans and even music execs to that single in particular with its dark undertone? It’s honestly the opposite! I have to be in the headspace to write Million Things because I’m *always* in the dark headspace haha! It’s not a bad thing I just naturally gravitate towards darker music and minor songs. I think you still need the upbeat side, but I think if you listen closely to the lyrics, you’ll find they are still super dark. The track might be upbeat and major, but the lyrics are some of the saddest I write to balance that out. We’re a dark electro-pop band, we like it moody and creepy. What’s super cool is now there are the Billie Eilish’s of the world blowing up, which opens up a window for all us ‘creatures of the night’ to crawl through!

You recently were on tour and ended your tour in Kitchener with Mother Mother. How was that to open for such a cool band? How did your tour go overall? Tour was great - absolutely fantastic vibes every night, we can’t wait to get back out there next year. Playing to large audiences though like the Mother Mother show - we T H R I V E on that. The more energy in the room the harder we’ll give it back. Doesn’t matter if it’s to 8 people or 800! We actually were able to write with Ryan from Mother Mother in the summer, so it was so great to follow up with a show with them! Amazing energy.

Whats the next tour you guys have planned? We’re cooking something up for 2020 - stay tuned!!

It's really cool and inspiring to see how far you have come from, singles like '//Broken//' to 'White Rabbit', as someone who has seen Featurette flourish  from more than just a 'feature' to open up for a bigger act, to the act itself and the main event on a bigger stage, I'd like to think 2020, is the year bands like Mother Mother open up for you. How much growth have you guys been through since coming together as Featurette and have you guys ever had to overcome any doubt in the past of continuing as a band? I think any person who runs their own business or project of any kind will have doubts along the way. It’s human to doubt ourselves, but for me, it’s what I take from those moments and what I can do with those feelings that spurs me forward. How can I turn that moment into a song, because it’s so relatable right? Artists especially - it’s like the wild west! When you’re independent, you have no idea what we’re doing, or if you're doing it right or wrong. Every ’next level’ you get to you just find out how many more there are to go. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and honestly I think we’ve found our stride. When we put out Crave we were literal babies. Like the first thing we ever did was come out with an album we made all by ourselves, completely independently. That’s actually mind-blowing to me now! We could have shopped that around, built a team, but we were like: Here we are! And I love that about us. Now we’ve gone away, thought about what we want to put out in this world, and made something beautiful that I couldn’t be more proud of. I have no idea where it will take us, but I hope to have you pose the same question in a year or two and be able to give you the most insane answer about whatever ’next level’ we’re on by then. In short, we’re in it to win it, whatever that looks like for us.

Lastly, lets play rapid fire with five random questions give the answer that comes to mind first If you were not called Featurette what else would you want to be called? Futurette - because that’s what everyone thinks our band name is anyway :p… I should buy that domain… Favorite current song that isn't your own? Petit Biscuit - Wide Awake Worst question you dislike being asked? Are you guys a couple? Mind yo own beezwaxxx ! Little secret fact about you guys not many know? Alternate passions to music: Lex - Crazy Plant Lady Jon: Hockey-aholic Whats next? ALBUM TIME GUYS - JANUARY BAYBEEEE!

[playeroneplayertwo]

Editorial: ‘Til the Money Runs Out

(Unless otherwise clarified, all prices are MSRP, or manufacture standard retail price)

The subjectivity evident in any critical analysis of a book, movie, or board game is–I would hope–obvious. Value, however, feels far less subjective. 

How much someone is willing to pay for something varies greatly depending on the person, not only based on what we’re talking about, but also how much money that person has. With that out of the way, let’s talk about a sticky wicket in the hobby of board gaming: value.

It wasn’t long ago that this idea felt less nebulous, with value often coming down to the argument of collectable games vs non-collectable games. Things are a little different now. Collectable card games (CCGs), expandable games/living card games (LCGs), legacy games, campaign games, mystery games, and consumable games have gone a long way in complicating a once-simple(ish?) idea. These days, everyone has an idea of what’s a good value, and what’s not. Lots of people have axes to grind against games deemed “of poor value.” I’ll try not to fall into such a black and white box.

When I originally thought about writing about value, my main angle was simple: Magic (1993) vs an LCG, like Android: Netrunner (2012) or Lord of the Rings: The Card Game (2011). As a former fan of Magic transformed into an avid LCG fan, I bristled at the less than rosy coverage most LCGs received from the gaming community, in regards to value specifically. I knew firsthand how expensive a collectable game like Magic could cost. With a 15-card Magic booster pack costing $3.99, and a booster box of 36 booster packs coming in usually around $100, it gets expensive quickly. Individual cards can be bought online for anywhere from 10¢ to $50+, this is a deep hole that is hungry and ready to eat you alive.

For anyone who has not played a collectable game, it is set apart from LCGs by randomness. A collectable game is purchased in packs of randomized cards, so oftentimes you will purchase a pack and get nothing you want or need. This happens far more than you would believe. LCGs/expandable card games are unique because they are available in fixed, non-randomized sets, whether that be small expansion packs of larger deluxe expansions. The rub is that these will cost more. For example, the typical small expansion pack for an LCG is typically $14.99, but you know exactly what you receive in that expansion, and additionally you’ll receive multiple copies of each card–something that never happens in collectable packs.

This distinction alone is worth a deeper dive, but we’ll only gloss over it briefly. Head to head LCGs or expandable games (like the now OP Android: Netrunner, Legend of the Five Rings (2017), Doomtown: Reloaded (2014), or Game of Thrones: The Card Game (2015)) offer a large pool of cards with a fixed distribution. You would conceivably be able to buy the core set for one of these ($40), plus perhaps four small expansions ($60 total), which puts you in at $100. For $100, you could buy a booster box of Magic cards and maybe build two strong decks, if you’re looking to have a satisfying experience. The randomness will throw a wrench in here, because you could theoretically get enough good cards for more than two solid decks; you could also get mostly junk.

Reviewers often balk at the LCG model, because while it appears to solve the money-pit aspect of CCGs, they are still not cheap. That being said, for people who are merely interested in the game–but not deck construction, LCG core sets offer plenty of introductory level gaming to help you discern whether you actually like a game or not. If you do, and you know what you like about the game (eg factions or mechanics), the set expansion packs allow you to build up where you want. Why buy an expansion pack for a faction you don’t like or don’t play? You don’t have to!

The cooperative LCGs are a different story. They, too, have the $15 expansion packs, but in addition to cards you’ll add to your pool for deck construction, you’ll also get quests to play against, essentially a typical “expansion” that brings in additional content beyond merely deck construction.

Whether it be cooperative or head-to-head, LCGs are expensive, but unlike CCGs, LCGs have simultaneously removed both the excitement of the blind buy as well as the frustration of the bad buy. Granted, in the small box expansions, you’ll still be getting cards you don’t need or don’t want, but at the very least, you will be getting at least a few cards you know you want (if not, uh... why did you buy it? Do your homework!).

As a player of both Lord of the Rings: The Card Game and Arkham Horror: The Card Game (2016), I would argue that the best value for me in LCGs probably lies in the cooperative line. By giving players both quests to pursue as well as player cards tailored to those specific quests, these small packs never feel incomplete. And, I would argue, getting a core box of Arkham Horror or Lord of the Rings is a great value as an introduction to satisfying, well-supported systems.

Beyond card games, the water actually gets far muddier when you expand what you’re talking about. Legacy games and escape room games (which is a term I’ll use to encompass both consumable games and “mystery” games that, once solved, can’t really be replayed satisfactorily) have managed to blur the lines in terms of value considerably. Let’s start with legacy games.

A legacy game is a game that evolves the more you play it, and with the exception of Charterstone (2017), most legacy games cannot be played beyond the completion of their main narrative arch. For example, Pandemic Legacy (season one or two) leads the players through a series of games that add up to a long-form narrative. As the games unfold, the rules of Pandemic will change, as will the cards, board, and other components, making the last game wholly unique from the first. However, once completed, you can’t play it again. You may as well recycle your game. Charterstone, Stonemaier Games’ take on the legacy game, at least leaves you with what amounts to a custom-designed worker placement game that is replayable. Legacy games can be played anywhere from 10-20 times before you complete the story. That being said, because they have so many components, they are usually quite expensive: Pandemic Legacy (2015/2017), $70; Charterstone (2017), $70; Betrayal Legacy (2018), $75; Rise of Queensdale (2018), $80; and the peril-plagued SeaFall (2016), $80.

After looking at these numbers, take a minute and compare them to the LCG/CCG numbers above. Yes, they are cheaper, but they also have a limited lifespan. Is a legacy game worth $70-$80 if you can only play it 12 times? That’s about $7 per play, cheaper than (or at least comparable to) a movie ticket for a good night spent gaming. Seems like a decent deal, right?

What about consumable or “mystery” games? In this case, I’m looking at you Exit (2016), Unlock (2017), and T.I.M.E. Stories (2015). Other games will fall into this category too (further escape room games or a host of Sherlock Holmes or similar mystery-type games, like Consulting Detective (1981) or Chronicles of Crime (2018)), but these three games are hyper present in the hobby today. Both Exit and Unlock retail for $15, but they will each offer a one-time experience only. Unlock games are mystery-based, so once you’ve worked your way through, they essentially can’t be replayed because the answers will all be known. As for Exit, this is probably one of the more controversial because it is literally consumable. At the end of a game of Exit, that $15 game you bought is now destroyed. Cards are cut, the book is written on or torn up, maybe event the box is destroyed. Unlike Unlock, you can’t even trade it to someone who has not yet played it. Each set of Unlock and Exit is unique, offering lots of new games, but it’s a flat $15 each time you play. Still cheaper than a night at the movies.

Which brings us to T.I.M.E. Stories (2015). T.I.M.E Stories is essentially a board game version of Unlock: card-based and entrenched in a branching narrative with puzzles. You’ll play one set of T.I.M.E. Stories maybe three times, at most, before it’s completed and cannot be replayed. The core box ($50) sets you up with the components and one mystery. Additional mysteries are available in modular expansions for $25 each. At its heart, T.I.M.E. Stories is most analogous to a BluRay player, with each expansion being a new BluRay you pop in to watch. In the long run, it’s also the most expensive of the bunch.

So what’s the point of all this? Board games are expensive, but you know that. Your average big box board game (ie not a traditionally labeled “filler game”) runs anywhere from $30-$60 MSRP. 

Ah, but who pays MSRP these days? you’ve been muttering this whole time.

Who’s paying MSRP? Well, if you’re looking to support your brick and mortar local game stores, you should be. Yes, this is a tough case to make, because money is money. It’s hard to rationalize spending $90 on Scythe (2016) to support your local store when you can buy it online for $52. I can try to make my best possible case for spending that extra $40, but like I said, it’s a tough sell. $40 is a whole other game. I’d like to say I only shop local, but it’s simply not true. This hobby is expensive, and while I buy local when I can, more often than not I buy online from brick and mortar places like Cool Stuff Inc or Miniature Market. It’s worth making a case for buying local, though. Do you like having a local store? If you want to keep having a local store, shop there. Support them. Give them your money when you can. It’s hard out there for brick and mortar stores. And please, don’t expect a brick and mortar store to sell at online prices. I don’t want to have to explain profit margins; in almost all cases it’s just not feasible.

In the long run, what does this all mean? I could throw my opinions at you endlessly about how I think T.I.M.E. Stories is, for Player Two and I, not worth it, or about how Exit is worth it, or legacy games don’t work for us, but that’s not what I’m here for ultimately. I guess I’d like people to ease up on LCGs, and maybe think twice about those hot hot big box legacy games, or remember to pass on their Unlock games to friends or families to get extra miles out of those small boxes. The breadth of the hobby is wide, and it is getting wider every year. Ultimately, you need to decide what you’re willing to invest, and in this case I don’t just mean you money, but also your time. Which of these games will you get your time value out of? If you buy a legacy game with shoddy mechanics, it will fail you on value across the board, because you won’t even finish it. LCGs or CCGs will offer you–theoretically–endless play, but if you don’t like the game enough, or it’s not nuanced enough to sustain those theoretical infinite plays, what’s the point?

The best advice I can give new gamers is to start small. Do your homework on small box games first. There’s a reason that in our first episode recommended gateway game was Oh My Goods! (2015). It’s a quality game that teaches new players a lot about engine building euros, it’s got decent replayability, it’s got two expansions, and it’s only $15. If you are new to the hobby, figure out what you like. Don’t run out and buy Lords of Hellas (2018), Batman: Gotham City Chronicles (2019), or Gloomhaven (2017) on a lark, because you’ll be unloading tons of money on something you may loath.

There’s nothing wrong with starting small. Trust me, in the long run, it will save you a lot of time and money.

[pixistarjem-blog]

Strange Magic

Chapter 1: Rebel Rebel

"You got your mother in a whirl

She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl

Hey babe, your hairs alright

Hey babe, lets go out tonight

You like me, and I like it all

We like dancing and we look divine

You love bands when they're playing hard"

Fuck it.

Say what you like about muggles, you can't argue that they make better music than us. That in itself is it's own strange kind of magic. This year Sirius was on a mission to drag Hogwarts into the 20th century, even if he had to do it on his own. He was going to get the student body to listen to decent music, not the tripe their parents did.  

The past year had been a bit shit to say the least. Culminating in being kicked out of the Black family abode the night he had arrived back from his fifth year at Hogwarts for being a blood traitor. Sirius had spent the holidays with the Potter's, when he wasn't at yet another festival getting wasted on muggle drugs, shagging randoms and generally having a helluva time.

"What the fuck is this wank?" Asked James as he entered the room Padfoot had taken residence in.

"Bowie, man, show some respect." Sirius turned from the window fag hanging from his mouth unlit. He was good looking and he knew it. With his shoulder length shaggy black hair, lithe body and manic energy he could pretty much get anyone he wanted, especially with those smouldering grey eyes of his. "There's a muggle festival at Knebworth this weekend – let's go. It'll take you mind of Evans. Pink Floyd are playing, it'll be immense. You might actually meet someone who'll pop that cherry of yours."

James frowned. He was still pissed off at Snivellus for getting him into trouble with Lily. Snivel deserved everything he got for calling her that word, mudblood. Lily was Snape's oldest friend and he'd sold her out. It didn't mean he didn't feel regret about the way Lily responded to the incident. She had a lot in integrity and empathy, far more than James did himself. He huffed and flung himself on to Sirius' unmade bed.  

Sirius flopped next to him. "Come on, Prongs, we'll have the best time. You could develop decent taste in music, that'll help you out with the girls." James rolled his eyes.  

"I don't think my chances will be helped any if I'm sharing a tent with you."

"'Course it will, I'm magnet for muggle chicks."

James coughed, Sirius was pretty sure it sounded like wanker.

"Plus with that undetectable extendable charm I have on the tent, it's big enough to host a party for thirty people. Trust me."

"Bet Moony and Wormtail would be up for it." Mumbled James warming to the idea.  

"Fuckin' hate being under age. We could just send a patronus to the other Marauder's. Now I have to actually write letters and send an owl. It's utter bollocks." Grumbled Sirius grubbing around for quill and parchment. Letters wrote Sirius took his owl, Ziggy, from her perch and tied them to her legs.  

"On the plus side, mate, at least we learn to apperate this year." Said James still lolling on the bed.

Sirius snorted "This year might not be an utter waste after all..."

***

"This is muggle music?" Shouted Peter with his fingers in his ears, over the sound of Jumpin' Jack Flash.

Sirius rolled his eyes and continued to move to the music with the crowd. James and Remus seemed to be having an ace time, they had two girls on of their shoulders and were pretty pissed. Sirius himself was bombed on some weed he'd scored. The weekend so far had been wicked, especially when he'd watched Moony crowd surf to The Who and Pete had finally come out the closet by snogging that fey looking bloke whilst tripping his tits off on acid.

The Stones hand finished their set and the crowd was milling about as they waited for Pink Floyd to finish off the festival, it was then he spotted Marley McKinnon. Sirius would notice her anywhere. Her wild light blonde curls, skinny frame and goofy grin always got him, not that he would admit that to anyone. He had never seen anyone from Hogwarts at any of the festivals he'd been to that summer. He felt a new found respect for the girl, who was blatantly off her face and enjoying the filler music between sets.

"Where's Padfoot off to?" Said Remus as Sirius wandered away.  

Marlene had her eyes closed and was getting her groove on to Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds when someone hugged her from behind.

"What the actual fuck!" She squawked turning to deck the person harshing on her high to find Sirius beaming down at her. "Holy shit! What's a knob like you doing at a muggle festival?" Marley smiled in surprise.

"Taking Potter's mind off Evans." He said holding her tiny hips, a broad grin breaking out on his lips. "Who are you here with?"  

Looking about Marlene couldn't see either Lily or Alice she seemed a bit bewildered. "Um, Evans and Milton. They were here..." Sirius didn't want to her to get upset and have a bad trip, so he took her hand and dragged her over to the Marauder's.

"Look who I found, dudes." He said pulling Marley in front of him.

"No way!" Lupin and Pettigrew exclaimed. James pulled out of the snog he was partaking in mid-action. On seeing McKinnon he quickly scanned the crowd before visibly turning pale.  

"Fuck sake, James. Lily doesn't care who's face your eating." Marlene grinned on seeing how uncomfortable he was. Potter may have felt unhappy that one Lily's best mates had seen him snogging some random. He did, however, notice that Black had yet to let go of the sylph like teen's hand and that his smile lit his friends face in a way he hadn't noticed before. He exchanged a knowing glance with Lupin.

"You joining us for the main event, Marley?" Enquired Remus.

"Can't wait. It's why I'm here. Pink Floyd are amazing." She was almost vibrating with anticipation. Sirius skinned up and offered her a toke on his joint, which he then passed around the group as Pink Floyd began their opening number. He indicated that Marley should get on his shoulders. She climbed on.  

The pounding music seemed to fill his heart as their bodies moved as one. The other Marauders didn't hold back, dancing through every number with enthusiasm. Sirius felt the joy of sharing something he loved with his friends. Pink Floyd ended their set to screams for more from the crowd.

Marley was safely back on the ground. "I'm going to head back to the tent to see if I can find the other two."  

"We'll walk you." Chimed Sirius and Remus. Marley smiled. She didn't fancy walking back to the tent on her own this mashed. The group walked through the festival following her lead chatting about the most ridiculous thing they had seen that weekend.

"I saw some muggle bloke dressed as a fairy, holding a stick with a star on the end shouting 'shazzam' at passers by." Said Moony giggling at the memory.

"I found some poor chap stuck down in the cesspit after a bet with his mates that he couldn't actually fit down the hole of the toilet." Peter laughed  

"There was that group of very hairy, burly guys who looked like mini Hagrid's dressed in wedding dresses." Added James. The group laughed helplessly.

"I was wide awake last night, the others were asleep. I was skinning up in front of our tent when some ancient naked dude walked past with the biggest hard-on you ever saw, and a giant grin plastered on his face. I had to hide in the tent! I thought I was going to die laughing." Marley's legs gave out, she had to sit down she could hardly breath just thinking about the memory. Tears rolled down her cheeks as laughter racked though her body.

"Nooo!" The boys chorused, Marley could only nod.

"See, I told you. It was so worth coming." Crowed Sirius pleased with himself. He pulled Marley to her feet, his arm round her shoulder. They walked for another ten minutes before Marley spotted her tent, laughing at more of the Marauder's antics. As she pointed, two girls ran over.

"Thank fuck we found you!" Shouted Alice slurring slightly as she reached the gang. Lily stumbled into a very pleased James who held her up as she looked at them blearily.

"You know, when we found Marley I didn't think she would be the most sober of the three of you." Said James with concern. "It explains a lot."

"Never mind me, I got us some Marauder's" cried Marley.

"Fuck the boys! I got us more booze" shrieked Lily holding up a nearly full bottle of vodka

"Well, I'll drink to that." Laughed Remus taking the bottle from her with a wink, as Sirius danced provocatively. They moved towards the girls tiny tent.  

"I hope it's bigger on the inside." Moaned Pete.

Marley slapped him on the arm "Of course, it is. I'm not a complete amateur."  

Once through the opening of the tent, you came into an open living space with a small kitchenette, off that a sleeping area you could easily sleep 5 people in. The floor was filled with comfy cushions, the sink had a weeks worth of dirty cups and plates in it.

The teens flopped on the floor in various states. Lily falling over James in a tangle. The vodka was passed around along with a joint. Marley sat on Remus' lap earning him some side eye from Sirius. They talked of their summers. Finding out what everyone had been up to. Alice had done some Saturday work at Fortescue's. Lily's parents had made her take a typing course "in case Hogwarts didn't work out" earning a collective groan of 'muggles'. Marlene had done factory work to pay for a summers worth of festivals and drugs. Remus smirked when Marley reeled off the list of festivals she had been to. Sirius then dominated her attention as he'd been at the same ones. "How come Hestia didn't come?" Asked Remus. She was always with the other three girls.

"Her dad found out she was on the Pill and grounded her for the rest of the summer." Complained Alice. Remus had always had a soft spot for Hes.

Lupin had spent a pretty lonely summer at home with his parents occasionally seeing the other Marauder's. Peter said he was working shifts in the Leaky Cauldron as a glass collector. Only James and Sirius had the funds to have a summer filled with acers of free time. Talk turned to going back to Hogwarts.

"Merlin, term starts in two days. We're going to be a right mess on the Express." Said Alice feeling her hangover already starting. This drew a communal groan from the group. Alice noticed that Lily was being particularly quiet despite her proximity to her least favourite Gryffindor. "You know, James, just because Lil's has passed out on you doesn't mean she likes you." Potter was trying to reign in a look of delight, as he ruffled his hair to make it messier than it already was.

"Her dribbling on your chest does not count as an exchange of bodily fluids, mate." Added Sirius looking at the inebriated pair. James gave up being upright at that point, carefully leaning back to embrace both his drunken stupor and Lily.

Pete suddenly fell forward comatose having downed most of the vodka to himself. "He could never hold his drink." Commented Remus. "Good job there's enough weed to go around."

Alice and Remus began to talk about herbology, a subject they both found interesting. Marley moved to snuggle next Sirius as she found the subject too dull to focus on in her mashed state. The two chatted in to the night about muggle music and who was the best live act. Sirius thought Black Sabbath, Marley the Stones. Black couldn't believe his luck running into her this evening, he felt like he'd downed a bottle of Felix Felicis. The four talked into the night before falling asleep where they sat.

[megades-sweet-darkness-delight]

ECLIPSA IS DISABLED!!!!!! (AND CUTE!!!!! ♠ ♿️💜😈💋♠❤) [EDITED FOR MORE READER ACCESSIBLITY]

I SENT AN ASK TO @breastforce​ A WEEK AGO, HOPING IT WOULD GAIN TRACTION WHILE I DIDN’T HAVE THE ENERGY TO POST MY WANTS AND NEED FOR (more) WHEELCHAIR USER REPRESENTATION  IN THIS SHOW AND FANDOM AND HOW I REALIZED ECLIPSA WOULD BE THE PERFECT CANDIDATE FOR IT, I WAS ORIGINALLY GOING TO TAG @breastforce, @marcodiazisatransgirl and @starbutterflyisautistic in my post addressing it to help spread the idea and gain more traction,since I love their ideas and representation they’ve created for themselves within the fandom and this has nothing to to do with anything but like, after ‘Girls Day Out’ I just got really pissed, for all the love these random side characters get, that nobody in general was drawing or even talking about Toby, or how Star vs. The Forces of Evil was the first children’s cartoon in an entire decade to, not only have a wheelchair user in their storyline, but also be the only wheelchair user on a children’s cartoon in an entire decade have their wheelchair users storyline not revolve around educating abled bodied people. While also having that character be BLACK. #DisabilityTooWhite (even in cartoons) 

And afterwords, everyone was just all: Oh. That Episode Was Cute. :) I Guess. :) Nothing to write home about tho. :) Just Cute Fun Filler Fluff! :3  No Big Deal. :))) JUST WISH SOMETHING BESIDES FILLER WOULD HAPPEN FOR ONCE  NEFCY, LOL!!! XD 

MEANWHILE, MY CRIPPLED ASS IS OVER HERE, REWATCHING ALL OF TOBY’S SCENES AND PRAISING MY FAERIE GODMOTHER HAHA TOM I KNOW YOU HATE PHYSICALLY DISABLED PEOPLE BUT I FOR ONE AM HAVING A MOMENT!!!!  (also, can i just kinda.... give bonus for like, having a joke about parking spots but like, later making a point to show the person who actually needs it EXISTING??? Without having them be the butt of that joke because like... good writing???) So, after I’m done crying my happy tears about all this, I start thinking that the only thing that could make this even better is if the show featured another wheelchair user who was a girl... Cause aside from this bitch who’s name I had to look up from The Wild Thronberry’s, all the major wheelchair users have been boys. Then “Into The Wand” came out... and in my obsession with Eclipsa’s Tapestry I had an Epiphany ... THAT ECLIPSA IS THE ONLY QUEEN....

WHO’S  SITTING DOWN.  

AND THEN 

I START THINKING ABOUT WHAT WE ALREADY HAVE. AND MY HEAD CANON MAY NOT BE A “THEORY” (bc in the case of wheelchair users we .... can’t exactly have coding the best we get is a cane your theories are still valid and needed and important an’ I wouldn’t have the courage to post this if it wasn’t for you I love you guys I’m so sorry .... ^ ^; <3 OX)  BUT MY POINT IS 

AFTER TOBY BEING IN A WHEELCHAIR IN CANON..... AND STAR BEING AUTISTIC IN FANON NOBY CAN TELL ME NO ... ;) 

IF A WANTED MY #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESSS  

#STARVSTHEFORCESOFABLEISM #ECLIPSAISDISABLED #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS  #DRAWHERSITTINGDOWN 

(The rest of this post will be put under a “READMORE” and been de- italicized, de-highlighted and de-bolded as above, for reader convenience)

AND PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DRAW HER FAT TOO SINCE EVERYONE AND THIER 9th GREAT GREAT GRANDMOTHER IS COMPARING HER TO CHERRY WHO IS OBVIOUSLY ECLIPSA’S 9th GREAT GRANDMOTHER 

ALSO DRAW HER WITH HER LOVER WHO’S NAME IS GRIMALKIN AND THEY ARE NON-BINARY AND USE ZE/ZIR PRONOUNS BECAUSE SOMEBODY NEEDS TO CARE ABOUT MY BABIES FOR OTHER THAN HOW OR IF THEY FUCKED, WHO THEY’RE RELATED TO BECAUSE OF THAT, AND AND IF THEY’RE EVIL.   

   🎵 GONNA GET A LIL’ GRIM GONNA GET A LIL’ DARK, DONE LARKING ROUND’ HERE, FLEEING THE MEWMAN  DIMENSION  🎵 See? You know you love #GrimDark, just like you love my #DisabledQueenOfDarkness head-canon and now you have a ship name to post content in so you can stop causally forgetting the big ugly monster when you draw her, and don’t worry about how the  chair effects their relationship, it’s not like Ze wouldn’t need to kneel down to her to get on her level anyway, and in the words of Margo Diaz, the ship name itself is meant to be ironic humor on the shows nature, since I suppose  people want Star Vs. to be more “GRIMDARK”  I mean ...when I realized that short version of Grimalkin would be “GRIM” and Eclipsa is the (DISABLED)Queen of (DARK)NESS  so it’s perfect, no? Move over S/T/A/R/C/O and moontoffee this couple deserved all the attention AGES is ago, and for those of you already comparing the dreaded(CO)Couple to this one since ‘Baby’ I made the the Monster Lover Non-Binary and use ze/zir  pronouns, since Margo is Trans and “Grimalkin” is traditionally the name for an old female cat who is commonly a companion of witches. You’re welcome. 

Also, I’ve decided that Grimalkin is a Cheshire Cat/My Neighbor (Totoro) based Ancient Species called Ches(SIRE) not really sure how to spell this right yet but u know how it’s supposed to to sound in ur head, right? ^^; That basically zir job is Guardian of The Spooky Forbidden Dark Forest Just Outside of Mewni TM and to protect other creatures and Monsters from the Mewmans and Demons who want to kill them; i.e,   Zie hunt and kill the demon who want to kill the unicorn for their blood and demons are actually zir primary food source living in the forest and when you eat a demon you absorb their power (hence zir horns and size) and sometimes, more often than not, zie nurse the creature/monster who was being hunted back to health, should they be hurt (hence the SIRE part) cause like, Totoro, there’s a condition on if you can see them: If your heart is dark. So yeah, Grimalkin The Forest Guardian, feel free to recreate the Totoro poster now bc I just realized Umbrellas

Just make sure to draw Eclipsa in her wheelchair when you do!!!! ^ ^ <3  When I sent this ask to Red however, it was because, with all the bombs coming down after ‘Baby’ it was because I felt as though I was... well running out of time, so to speak .... 

(CLOSE UP)

[CAPTIONED]:

How amazing foreshadowing would it be though after Toby and everything, if Eclipsa were actually a wheelchair user too and all the Past Queens of Mewni had different disabilities? And we had fan content to reflect that too like Autistic Star and Princess Margo? I'm making a post about it but like #DisabledQueenofDarkness & CpunkPastQueensofMewni should be a thing and after todays ep, I wanna get it goin' b4 Eclipsa is probs gonna get revealed to be abled bodied. Post for ppl to reblog?^ ^; ♥

So I asked @breastforce  (Red) to post that specifically so that people (the viewer) [her followers] could do one simple thing 

The ask has  42 notes not excluding my own like, so surely that means at least HALF those people must’ve REBLOGGED IT to spread the word, right? 

Huh ...  I see 38 apples with heart shaped holes 

A cute baby narwhale in the ocean (who still couldn’t be bothered to reblog tho) @natiacollins <3

And only three people who actually care.... 

Why did I ask Red to post this ask again? Oh yeah... 

And WHAT happened today? I HAVE TO DEAL WITH +5 POSTS THAT SHOW ECLIPSA STANDING UPRIGHT PARALYZED IN ICE AND NOT A PARASOL CANE TO STAND ON (she uses her Parasol/Wand for a cane/to push her chair sometimes, like Autistic Star sometimes bites her wand and uses it for other things, you’re welcome <3)

But LIKE

OH YEAH THAT’S FINE  GUYS GIMME A BUNCH OF APPLES WITH HOLES IN THEM AND THEN  RUB IT IN MY FACE CRUMBLE MY CRIPPLE PUNK PAST QUEEN OF MEWNI HEART I’M OKAY WITH THE EVENTS THAT ARE UNFOLDING CURRENTLY ....

HER LEGS ARE STILL SCISSORING THAT MEANS I STILL HAVE A CHANCE!!!!!

OR AT LEAST I STILL GOT A........

 ....GIMP GOAT .......

OKAY NOT TO OFFEND ANYBODY BUT THIS IS HOW I FEEL RIGHT NOW.... 

RIVER IS ME, MY CRIPPLED HANDS REACHING FOR CRUMBS WHILE EVERYONE ELSE GET’S TO ENJOY THEIR RICH REPRESENTATION COATED TREATS BECAUSE THIS CUTE COOKIE CAT I PICKED OUT FOR MYSELF.....

MIGHT JUST TURN OUT TO BE AN ABLED-BODIED ICE POP! 

YOU KNOW WHAT? I’M BACK TO BEING A BABY AGAIN BECAUSE THE GOATS NOT GOOD ENOUGH. AND IF PEOPLE CAN’T ADAPT THEMSELVES TO DRAWING “ABLE-BODIED” CHARACTERS IN WHEELCHAIRS LET ALONE MAKE ORIGINAL ONES TO BEGIN WITH, THAT’S NOT OUR PROBLEM. 

IS IT, TOBY?

BUT THE GOAT IS GOOD FOR MY NEXT POINT.

 SO FAR IN THIS FANON/FANDOM WE HAVE FOUR AUTISTIC CHARACTERS (STAR AND JANNA AND INGRID AND STARFAN13), TWO TRANS CHARACTER (MARGO AND STARFAN13), A CHARACTER WHO’S AN ACTUAL WHEELCHAIR USER IN CANON (TOBY), AND AS OF TODAY, A GAY DISABLED MONSTER CHARACTER WHO IS CODDLED AND DOESN’T WANT TO BE “TAKEN CARE OF” BY THEIR PRIMARY CARE GIVER S/O ANY LONGER AND IS ABUSED BY THEM BECAUSE OF THAT

WHEN THEY TRY TO BE INDEPENDENT

THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO REASON FOR ECLIPSA /NOT/ TO BE A WHEELCHAIR USER AND FOR HER LOVER TO /NOT/ BE NON-BINARY. THIS FANDOM HAS THE MOST DIVERSE FREAKING NICHES I’VE EVER SEEN!!!! HECKAPOO! THERE’S NO REASON FOR STAR BUTTERFLY NOT TO BE IN A WHEELCHAIR /AND/ BE AUTISTIC!!!! “Star On Wheels” Hello?! Back when that episode first came out, I remember someone made this disgusting ablest comment about Star “becoming a Paraplegic lolXD” so please draw her in a wheelchair just to spite them!!!! OX <3 

And also like .... we have all these old cartoon Grannies in wheelchairs. PLEASE LET ECLIPSA BE THE YOUNGEST ONE!!!! PLEASE LET HER AND THE MONSTER STEAL TOBY’S CHAIR FOR HER TO GET ROUND WHEN SHIT GOES DOWN AND LATER SHE FEELS BAD ABOUT IT CAUSE THEY SCARED THE LIL’ GUY GOOD SO THEY DECIDE TO “ADOPT” HIM AND SING THIS TO HIM:    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gN-Jl1kFpX0 

FUCK TOM AND TOFFEE LET /TOBY/ BE ECLIPSA’S SON?????? AND IT WOULD BE EXACTLY LIKE THAT ONLY NO ONES TRYING TO KILL HIM GRIMALKIN’S JUST CONFUSED AND HE’S TRYING TO GET THE CHAIR FOR ECLIPSA AND IT’S CUTER <3  

ALSO GRIMALKIN REFERS TO STAR’S PARENTS AS “BULLY AND MOODY” JUST FOR CLARIFICATION YOU KNOW WHY BUT I’M OBVIOUSLY THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES THESE CHARACTERS THIS MUCH BC AS FAR AS I KNOW I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS ABOUT THEM (EQUALLY) AS CHARACTERS AND I’M NOT USING THEM AS A PROP FOR MOONTOFFEE OR THINKING ABOUT WHO CAME OUT OF THEM WHEN THEY FUCKED <3 

BUT YES, LET ECLIPSA BE DISABLED!!!!! DRAW HER AS A WOMEN IN A WHEELCHAIR!!!!! BECAUSE APPARENTLY DESPITE THE CRIPPLING LACK OF REBLOGS ON THAT ASK... ;) THEY’RE ARE PEOPLE WHO STILL FIND MY NEED FOR REPRESENTATION INTERESTING!!!!!! 

SO THAT’S WHY I’M MAKING THIS POST!!!! TO PUT IT OUT THERE WHERE IT WASN’T ORIGINALLY AND START THE TAG. DO IT WITH ME!!!!!  #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS #ECLIPSAISDISABLED #STARVSTHEFORCESOFABLEISM  

AND REBLOG THIS POST!!!! I DON’T WANT YOU TO “LIKE” IT JUST REBLOG IT!!!!!! 

IF YOU WANNA MAKE IT UP TO ME YOU CAN START REBLOGGING MY ORIGINAL ASK HERE:  http://breastforce.tumblr.com/post/156994186895/how-amazing-foreshadowing-would-it-be-though-after BUT FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND GOOD HEAD CANONS PLEASE REBLOG THIS ONE AND HELP GET THE WORD OUT!!!!! SIGNAL BOOST THIS!!!!! NOT ONLY FOR ME BUT FOR OTHER PHYSICALLY DISABLED PEOPLE WHO LOVE STAR VS. TO SEE IT!!!!!! IT’S SUCH A GOOD HEAD CANON AND HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL AND IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME THAT #ECLIPSAISDISABLED AND I HAVE MY #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS AND THAT ALL THE PAST QUEENS OF MEWNI HAVE DIFFERENT DISABILITIES AND I MIGHT ACTUALLY GET TO CONNECT WITH DIFFERENT DISABLED PEOPLE IN ONE OF MY FANDOMS FOR ONCE. I’M GONNA DO A POST WITH ALL THE PAST QUEENS DISABILITIES SOONY BUT I WANTED TO GET THE #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS AND #ECLIPSAISDISABLED AND #STARVSTHEFORCESOFABLEISM  TAGS TRENDING TOO AND WHO KNOWS IF I’LL STILL HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO THAT TOMORROW.... 

IT’S NOT CRIMINAL TO BE AN INDIVIDUAL, BUT IT’S ALSO NOT CRIMINAL TO BE A CRIPPLE OR #DISABLEDANDINTODARKNESS OR A #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS ETHER AND WE  NEED OUR REPRESENTATION TOO. ;) 

IF YOU REBLOG THIS I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER. IF YOU’RE ONLY GONNA ‘LIKE’ IT YOU CAN 

GET. OUT!!!!!!!!!

AND YOU BETTER REBLOG THIS BECAUSE I WAS UP UNTIL 5:00AM THE OTHER DAY TRYING TO FINISH THIS BECAUSE I FORGOT FRIDAY’S WERE OFF DAYS. NOT GOOD FOR MY SCOLIOSIS. NOT GOOD FOR MY LEGS. PAIN EVERYWHERE. ALL TO EDUCATE YOU. AND I HAD TO CANCEL MY PHYSICAL THERAPY THAT DAY.  

THIS MONDAY I GET MY HAND SPLINT AND BRACES PUT ON SO I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH MORE UNCOMFORTABLE TYPING WILL BE AFTER THAT. THIS MAY BE MY LAST POST FOR A WHILE AND IT’S REALLY IMPORTANT TO ME. ALSO, WHILE WE’RE TALKING ABOUT ORTHOTICS, WHEELCHAIR USERS, AND DISABILITY; ABLED-BODIED PRIVILEGE IS GROWING UP WHEN THE  ONLY REPRESENTATION FOR CHILDREN WITH “BRACES” WERE THE ONES PINCHING TEENAGERS MOUTHS, ESPECIALLY IF THERE WAS A WHOLE GODDAMN SHOW ABOUT IT 

WHILE YOU WERE SITTING THERE WONDERING WHY YOU AND YOUR BRACED UP, PINCHED UP, BRUISED UP LEGS GOT NOTHING..... 

So before I publish this, I just wanna add in the few things I forgot do to tiredness. 

ECLIPSA IS STILL TOTALLY GOING TO NEED HER CHAIR ONCE SHE GETS UN-CRYSTALIZED. THE WHOLE ENTIRE REASON SHE’S LIKE THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE IS BECAUSE THE TIME OUT GUY, BEING THE  JUDGEMENTAL PRICK THAT HE IS, THOUGHT THAT SHE WAS “EVIL” NOT BECAUSE SHE’S THE QUEEN OF DARKNESS, BUT BECAUSE FROM HIS POINT OF VIEW, SHE WAS “FAKING HER DISABILITY” BECAUSE HE SAW HER GET UP ON HER OWN FOR 5 SECONDS AND TOOK THAT AS AN INSULT TO LEKMET, FREEZING HER ONLY TO AVENGE THE GOATS HONOR. NATURALLY, HER LOVER TURNED SIGNIFICANT OTHER WASN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT THIS AND CAUGHT ON TO WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED PRETTY QUICK, SO TIME OUT GUY AND LEKMET USED HER TITLE AND ALL THIER “PAST CRIMES” AS A SCAPEGOAT TO KEEP HER THERE, RATHER THAN UN-FREEZE HER AND FACE THE MUSIC. 

AND AGAIN, I’M NOT TRYING TO OFFEND ANYBODY BECAUSE I KNOW SHE’S PEOPLES DAUGHTER AND TOBY IS MY SON TOO BUT LIKE, IF STAR VS. WERE ONE OF THOSE CARTOONS THAT TRIED TO DO EPISODES ON HOW PEOPLE IN WHEELCHAIRS ARE “JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE” (THANK GOD THEY’RE NOT .... AT LEAST NOT /YET/) MARGO DIAZ WOULD TOTALLY BE THAT ONE OVER PROTECTIVE ASSHOLE WHO TALKS IN A WEIRD BABY VOICE AND SAYS THINGS LIKE “MAYBE YOU SHOULD SIT THIS ONE OUT....” AND “IT’S FOR YOUR OWN SAFTY...” AND STAR WOULD (PROBABLY) BE THE ONE TELLING HER TO CHILL AND ACTUALLY TREATING THE WHEELCHAIR USER LIKE A PERSON ...

LIKE WHEN ECLIPSA GET’S UN-CRYSTALIZED, SHE IMMEDIATELY FALLS TO THE GROUND LIKE “IT’S OKAY! KITTY CAT OFFENSE GOT ME COVERED!” AND THEN MARGO’S LIKE “AAAH! STAR! YOUR GRANDMA’S FALLEN AND SHE CAN’T GET UP!”

“BUT SHE LANDED ON HER PAL-”

“SOMEBODY CALL ALIVE ALERT!!!!”

“OH, DON’T WORRY PRECIOUS, I ALREADY HAVE SOMEONE WHO’S ON ALERT FOR /MY LIFE/” *PRESSES THE LIL, CRESCENT MOON PENDANT ON HER CREST AND IT STARTS GLOWING* NEXT THING YOU KNOW SHE’S ROLLED OVER ON THE FLOOR....

“OH NO! SHE’S ....! IS SHE HAVING A COUGHING FIT OR A HEART ATTACK? I  CAN’T TELL.” 

“IT SOUNDS MORE LIKE A GIGGLE FIT OF OMINOUS SHUOJO LAUGHTER... BUT FOR WHAT I DON’T-- AWHNO!!!” 

“AWH WHA-?” *STAR GRAPS AT HER HOODIE* “MARGO! WE NEED TO GET HER OUTTA’ HERE! SHE CAN’T WALK OR USE MAGIC, AND ALL MY SPELLS ARE AFRAID OF HER! YOU NEED TO GET YOUR DAD!” AND MARGO GET’S OUT HER DS LIKE “OKAY!” AND ONCE SHE’S OUT OF EARSHOT, ECLIPSA SAYS TO STAR IN HER PERFECT COCKNEY ACCENT LIKE “AWWHH, WOTS’A MATTA’, CAKEPOP?! YOU DON’ WONNA STAY’ ER’ AN’ WAIT WIT’ GRANNY TA’ MEET YER’ POPPOP?!

AND STAR’S ALL ANNOYED AN’ GRUMBLY LIKE “/STEP!/ POPPOP! Myevilstep-poppop...” 

And that’s when Eclipsa gets 100% serious and her tone get’s kinda sad and soft like “ So because ze stepped in and zir part demon, zir just evil and an accessory for ‘Bad Girls’? Like those Scissors?” 

And Star’s like “HOW DID YOU-” but then Margo comes back with her mom and dad following and Rafael scoops Eclipsa off the floor and she’s like “Ooooo, Angie! Your husband is so strong ... Wait’ll you meet mine!” And Angie’s like “HAHA THANKS!” *whispers to Margo* “Howdoessheknowournames?”  

Rafs all insecure like “Whoisherhusband?”

“IdontknowMomandDad...I.Dont.Know......” 

Then later, they have her settled on the couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of tea, Margo realizes Eclipsa has a permeant disability but still doesn’t trust her (thinking she’s faking, putting on some cliche act) so she just drops the bomb of “LOOK .... I know you’re a Granny and all, but ....aren’t you a bit too YOUNG to be disabled?” 

And without missing a beat, right in front of her parents, Eclipsa just grins and goes “Aren’t you a bit too young to have lived 30 years of your life in an alternate dimension and have the mark of Heckapoo,  JENNIFER RINK? ;3 ”  and goes right back to sipping her tea.

“....30 /WHAT/?!”

“....... Mark of /WHO/???!!!”  

“OH!” *ECLIPSA PUTS DOWN HER TEA USING HER SPOON LIKE A WAND IN THE AIR* “IT’S ‘HECK-A-POO’. HECKAPOO!” 

*Raf gets sidetracked seeing her do a lil’ magic with her tea spoon when her eyes start to glow* “I’m sorry if this is invasive to ask, Mrs. Eclipsa, but ... Can you shoot lasers out of your eyes like these puppies?” 

Margo’s still horrified.  “STAR. HOW DOES SHE KNOW THESE THINGS????!!!??” 

Star’s just like “ CAUSE GRANDMA’S KNOW, JENNIFER! Grandma’s know!!!” 

Eclipsa’s like “That’s my girl.” 

“But Queen Eclips- ...GRANNY! You never answered Mr. Diaz’s question!” 

*sips tea* “The answer is that I most certainly can, Star.” 

“AAAWH YIIII-”  

*takes another sip of tea before adding* “But I only use my laser powers in the most EXTREME of emergencies.” 

“Awwh.” 

*Finally finishes tea and there’s a flash of light and Eclipsa appears to be gone before Star feels something warm and fuzzy curled up on her lap * “Unless ... Anyone would like to see what I look like as a laser kitty? :3″ 

“AAAAAAAAAWWHH!!!!” 

CONCEPT:  THE “TIE” AROUND ECLIPSA’S WASTE IS ACTUALLY A FASHIONABLE  BACK BRACE MADE TO LOOK LIKE A PART OF HER DRESS. IT HELPS HER STAND UP BETTER. 

And I WILL make a post for all the Past Queens disabilities, it’s just I came up with a cute little pun for mine and I don’t feel comfortable making Mewni style puns for other peoples disabilities... ^ ^; So when I make that post the disabilities will just be listed as they are on Earth and #STARVSTHEFORCESOFABLEISM seems like a better catch all, since the term “CPunk” was coined by somebody else and means a very specific thing... ^ ^; 

But Eclipsa’s disability is called “Celestial Purrsy” (a play on my own disability, Cerebral Palsy)  and it basically means she has all the advantages/disadvantages of a cat ... ^ ^; It’s taken as a birth defect by the Mewmans because she looks like she has DNA from   different dimension? ^ ^; Like this is gonna sound kinda morbid and dark but they suspect she’s a “changeling” and that the alternative version OF Eclipsa (like the one of Star we see in “MathMagic”) 

Somehow replaced/possessed the “REAL” one at birth because she was born with her little kitty eyes/mouth 

and paws 

Which she’s been made to cover up since birth in order to look more like a “normal” mewman , like think of the old wives tale of cats stealing babies breath and the dreaded dimension of Star vs. where cats  have human faces, on Mewni there’s basically this old wive tale of “Mewmans who have cat faces” and if they’re born that way it’s Bad Luck because they’re “The Cat Who Snatched The Mewmans Body” and that’s what they think happened to Eclipsa. That’s why they call her “Eclipsa” because they think “a dark shadow was cast over their baby” A “Fairy Godmothers curse” (The character of ‘Baby’ is actually described as “Star’s Fairy Godmother”in wikipedia summary. So maybe they think Eclipsa’s cursed with a cat face because the Fairy burped on her or or something AND THAT’S WHY THEY HATE HER SO MUCH OH MY GOSH. GET IT? AN OLD WIVES ABOUT BABIES BREATH? A FAIRY GODMOTHER CAT NAMED ‘BABY’? OH MY GOSH. They blame things like Eclipsa’s size and her love of food on Baby too, but that’s just another part of the stigma Eclipsa faces because her parents are arseholes. 

Eclipsa even went through Mewberty “wrong” because her Mewberty from actually looks a lot like Baby ... And other Mewmans are like “Eeew, what are you? you silly Cat/Bug/Moth thing we’re supposed to be strictly INSECT BASED!!!!” 

And instead of “BOYS” all she wanted to do was play with balls of yarn ...  She hoarded all the yarn, and then she actually CREATED the “Worlds Most Dangerous Creature” we see in ‘Inter-Dimensional Field Trip’ WITH THE YARN...  

For what purpose though, her parents were concerned... 

She was basically treated as more of a prized house pet than a mewman, a Familiar meant to serve rather than the Queen she was met to be, and, like Star, she didn’t know basic magic ... As Queen of Mewni, she was a Familiar/Figure head, an “inspiration” to the kingdom more than anything and her husband at the time, a boarder-line powerless Mewman who never left his mewberty form by choice,  King Lunar (LOO-NAR) used her for her magic, she was barely allowed to use her wand and the parasol was always opened up and propped on her wheelchair behind her where she couldn’t  reach it in order to “shield her from the elements”, as Lunar put it. 

They married because he took her out to The Bloodmoon Ball on a pity date, dancing was required according to their parents, and their souls “accidentally” bonded.  Just as they intended.  

SO you all know cerebral palsy is a muscle thing, right? Well with Eclipsa, her “Celestial Purrsy” is A BIT more exaggerated like someone (Glossaryck) will sneak up on her and she’ll have a muscle spasm, even if she’s prepared for it, but if she’s not wearing her seat belt, she’ll do that kitty thing where she’ll end up clinging to the ceiling, cat noises and everything, and she has those weird ticks that I have where she’ll get a twitch through her body like .... 

It’s less pleasant than Jiji’s in the context of that gif, but t that’s the  only way I know how to to describe it ... And then Glossaryck tries to get her to relax and “dip down” to try to get her off the ceiling but she just ... can’t do it... not because she’s afraid (it’s just an INVOLUNTARY REFLEX, EVERYONE CALLS HER A “SCAREDY CAT” OR APOLOGIZES AND NOBODY GETS  IT...) but because her purrsy effected muscles are so tense and she can’t unclench them cause ...her body is afraid it’ll hurt? ^ ^; So Glossaryck will have to call Lunar to help get her down and he’s part moth, so he’ll like make a big show of like, crawling up the ceiling to get her and he’ll do it extra slow just to freak her out more because he knows that she hates it when she touches her but she can’t show it cause he’s her care giver and her husband and she feels guilty for doubting his love and daring to think he makes her uncomfortable on purpose... yeah marriage problems ... ^ ^;  Sorry for creepy imagery ... ^ ^; 

Glossaryck tries to talk to Lunar about it and suggests that MAYBE she’ll be more comfortable around him if he actually lets her USE HER WAND... since she hasn’t  touched it since she was a teenager and WHO KNOWS HOW HER PERSONALITY HAS CHANGED SINCE THEN ... So Lunar’s like “FINE!!! HERE ECLIPSA!” (he can hand here the wand without effect on him since he doesn’t actually have hands to hold it with... he has feelers and mewberty goop... so everything just kinda... latches on to him all sticky ..... yeah, sorry for nightmare fuel again) Aaaaaaanndd we get our first glimpse of our Queen of Darkness then, wardrobe change and everything (the thorn crown doesn’t come in until she spends more time with Grimalkin and more specifically, when she’s evaluated by Baby and grows her apple tree later, when she’s been living with her Lover, they ask the Fairy Godmother to marry them right there), everyone is surprised by the transformation expect  for Glossaryck, who’s like  “Somebody’s been suppressing a lot of ANGER ....” *Looks over at Lunar* “Wonder what could be the cause* And then Lunar looks over at Eclipsa who looks about ready to KILL HIM an’ he snatches the wand away as quickly as she had it via his gross Mewberty goop and he’s like “SEE?! All that power is far too dangerous for someone so small look at what just happened! You just turned yourself into a monster when your supposed to be my sweet little muffin!”

 Now we get to Toffee’s relation to Eclipsa.... after the whole wand thing happened he was actually (supposed to be) her aid. Cause King Lunar become paranoid of his wife becoming “out of control” and needed someone to “control” her when he wasn’t there because                   “ (ableism) I’m too busy to be scrapping you off the ceiling every time you have one of your episodes!!!! (ableism)” So .... he tries some of the Mewman staff at  first ... But they’re all ether too condescending or just plain afraid of her and don’t even wanna touch her ... and Eclipsa knows this and plays it up to her advantage... So Lunar finally get’s this idea ... And he picks who he deems the most “intelligent” in the ... lizard prison... tells them that they’re going to “Keep an eye on the Queen”, takes them to Eclipsa’s room and Lunar’s like “Okay LIZARD I’m gonna show you what you’re working with here” And it’s just Eclipsa, alone, by herself, eating this big bowl of candy with her gloves off and pawing at the wrappers... 

And the lizards like “She looks SLIGHTLY less bored than I am...” 

“She’s hysterical ...” 

*mumbles* “ComingfromLunarTheLoon....” 

“What was that, REPTILE...?” 

“Nothing...! Yourbugeyedbenevolence...” 

“If you’re so keen on insulting someone today, just make sure you speak to HER in the slowest, weirdest voice possible!” 

“....OKIEDOKIEHOPEYOUCHOKIE!!!” 

Then the door slams and it’s perpetual “SURPRISE!!!!” voice until Eclipsa goes “Oi Lizzie! You like some tea from all that Buff- frog in ya throat?!” 

And then Liz drops the act like “Oh, I don’t eat garbage...” 

“Well, had me confused, you are what you eat...” 

“And you’re hysterical...” 

“Mm. So I’ve heard. But I’m sure the Buff-frogs don’t like hearing their fellow monsters think they’re ‘garbage’. That’s not a very nice thing to say about someone, is it? Even if it is used as an excuse not to eat them.” 

“I suppose that’s true... Are you going to strike me now?” 

“Why would I strike the hand that feeds me?” 

“On days like this, I can think of many reasons, especially if you’re hungry.”

*She edges the bowl of candy over to him* “Please. :3″ 

“...Thank you....” *Being the ... picky eater that he is, (or making certain it’s not poison) she notices him carefully searching for his favorite candy and laughs when he gathers a handful of it* 

“There you go!” 

*Mouth already full of Saltwater Toffee* “Whut ...?!”

”I think your name is Toffee! What would you say about that?” 

*he looks guilty for all the candy pieces he’s holding in his hands* I’d say that it would suit me, Queen Eclipsa, Thank you!”  

“Your very welcome, Toffee! Also, that reminds me, we need to buy you a suit, it’ll look more official when you help me boot out my bugger of a husband! *ironic ship teasing/future ex girlfriend reference bc she later falls for someone who wears no suits at all, CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT* 

Toffee can’t help but find this amusing and smilies “You want me to... AIDE you in starting a rebellion against your husband?” 

*Eclipsa borrows a piece of his toffee, pops it in her mouth, and grins* “Now look who’s hysterical...” 

The very next day, Toffee returns to Eclipsa all beaten and bloodied up. His tail is missing and , he’s pretty much dying. Eclipsa is freaking out...realizing her wand is gone too, doesn’t know what’s going on but has a pretty good inkling of who’s behind it. Next thing you know Lunar comes in all like “Hm. That’s two things that don’t belong to me now, or is it three? You’ll never get your kingdom back.”

 And Eclipsa is tears “I don’t care about the kingdom! What did you do to to Toffee?!” 

And Lunar throws the tail and the and the wand back to their rightful owners and says “What I could never do to my bugger of a bride!” before slamming the door on them again. 

The second he leaves, Eclipsa drops herself out of her chair unto to the floor, crawls over to Toffee, asks him to tell her what she can do to to help him, and he tells her  weakly that he’s heard of an ancient being in the dark forest who supposed to heal monsters, Eclipsa’s like “Alright, we’ll go there. Right now.” Takes off her hat and props it under his head, then goes over to her bed to get some pillows, where her book is laying. 

Glossaryck pops out and is like “What are you doing?” 

“You heard what just went on.” 

“You’re going to The Dark Forest to seek Grimalkin.” 

“ Gesundheit.” 

“No no. Grimalkin is the name of the HEALER. Trust me, if I  sneezed, you’d know it.” 

“Get away.” 

“Eclipsa, I’m you’re teacher and YOU NEED ME.” 

“No I don’t.” 

“Fine. Be that as it may, I will accompany you on your journey.” 

“Why?” 

“SATISFACTION BROUGHT IT BACK!” 

“...Whatever. Help me pad my chair with these pillows while I lift Toffee up, and hurry.” 

“...Maybe if  you cast  ‘LEVITATO’-” 

“I KNOW!!!!” 

Toffee protests to taking Eclipsa’s chair but Eclipsa says that right now, he needs it more than she does. “Besides, I have my Gait Trainer, silly Gator!”  They secure some rope they got from Eclipsa’s curtains to the chair and Toffee’s under the impression that Eclipsa’s going to tie the other end around her waist and pull him herself, so he objects to that too. He earns some perfect shoujo laughter and a “Don’t be ridiculous, Toffee!” Before giving a sharp whistle and a small usher of rats scurry out from under the bed “I mean, I would if I had to, but there’s no need. Follow Mummy babies!” and just like that they grab a hold of Toffee’s rope and follow her out every door, with to rats stationed in front of her to help open them.

 One of the servants asks if they should do something, watching her head towards the dark forest from the window, to which Lunar responds “Nah, curiosity killed the cat.” And the rest is history. Basically because Toffee made her PROMISE to come back and visit him every day because he heard what Lunar had said to her before and was afraid for her at that point. Which Grimalkin allows because he BEGS xem and the Guardian sees how this monster cares for HER. Plus she looks too exhausted to do any real harm at the moment.  

Eclipsa promises Toffee that she’ll come back, and she’ll start working on her spells for self defense. 

When Eclipsa asks Grimalkin tells her that Toffee’s tail can’t be re-attached, and it could take a while for the other lizard monsters who to live there to teach him how to regenerate, maybe even generations but zie CAN preserve his life. Maybe even raise a new life from the old tail.

 When she hears this, and she’s letting it sink in that Toffee almost died,  Eclipsa considers making up an immortality spell so she’ll never have to worry about the scare of losing him ever again. Then Eclipsa tells the guardian about the prison and zie promise to see what can be done. Also this happen at some point, after they’re at least on a more friendly/flirty basis ...

“You’re a healer, right?” 

“You know what I am.”

”Yeah, well...How come other people don’t know I can’t be cured?” 

“Dunno.” 

“I mean I know I KNOW...and YOU KNOW, so how come THEY dunno? YA KNOW?!”

”The answer is as mysterious as my origins, Purple One.” 

“YOU’RE A PURPLE ONE! Also, your stripes are really pretty!” 

“So are your paws.” 

“May I feel your pretty stripes with my pretty paws? :3″ 

“You are MARRIED! Also, I am not purple, I am  Magenta.” 

“ And I’m Sorry I Asked! ;W;” 

Toffee is watching them like “Pfft ... FURRIES!” 

When things start getting more intense between them (Grimalkin & Eclipsa) later, Eclipsa tells Lunar over dinner that she wants to  make other living arrangements, of course, the tyrannical King laughs in her face. THIS is what leads the Lovers to make arrangements of their own behind the King of Mewni’s back, at least until they can get away, they’re hoping ...  

That’s pretty much it, sorry for going into a bit a mini fic mode, I just really wanted to sell the idea of Eclipsa... being a disabled person so that people would actually, you know... want to draw her as such. ^ ^; Since I don’t think it’ll happen at all in the show, twice, although it would be a freaking miracle if it did ... ^ ^; 

I’m also sorry for the snobby way that I think some of this post is worded? ^ ^; I’m not trying to play the oppression game with anyone here .... ^ ^; It’s just, people see a character and they think of ways to see themselves.... and anyone can draw a missing eye, limb, or cane as a cool character trait or accessory but absolutely NOBODY (as far as I know)  sees a character and thinks “I’m going to draw that “abled-bodied” character in a wheelchair, so people who maybe don’t have the physical ability to create sometimes can see themselves too”. Which is why I think starting a movement along the lines of #DRAWHERSITTINGDOWN, or more inclusively #DRAWTHEMSITTINGDOWN would be SUPER IMPORTANT. 

I mean, at least it’s better than saying “cripple the bitch”. Which in retrospect I’m surprised hasn’t been turned into some kind of revolutionary artistic  renaissance or reclamation movement made exclusively for disabled artists to draw what disabilities they’ve envisioned for the abled-bodied characters that they adore already (in a way that’s not the result of villainous violence or results in vendetta, unless of of course they’re a villain or simply have a vendetta against our abled-bodied overlords whom  oppress us so, that would be an excellent excuse to have those elements included in the explanation of how their disability effects them, like I just did with Eclipsa ).      

Because I feel bad and embarrassed because every time I want to see an “abled-bodied” character in a wheelchair, I think of the phrase “cripple the bitch” and then my internalized ablism thinks up some horrible accident they were in order to “make them that way”.  Because nobody draws an “abled bodied” character in a wheelchair just because. Unless it’s the disability sign. And we need to start.  

STAR VS. THE FORCES OF EVIL IS THE /ONLY SHOW/ WHERE I FEEL COMFORTABLE ENOUGH STARTING IT! AND I /STILL/ FEEL THE NEED TO EXPLAIN /WHY/ I NEED THIS HEADCANON RATHER THAN JUST SAY BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE ANY EVIDENCE OR CODING TO HELP ME. AND I’M AFRAID PEOPLE WILL ETHER HUMOR ME ONCE OR WON’T FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH IT BECAUSE THEY’RE ABLED BODIED. AND WHERE IS TOBY?! IS MY SON STILL IN DETENTION?! I DON’T MEAN TO DISOWN HIM BUT I DESERVE BETTER THAN AN ACTUAL HUMAN SIDE CHARACTER WHO ONLY SHOWED UP ONCE, A GOAT, A WEIRD WEREWOLF GUY, AND  

I’m sorry that I feel like I’m playing the oppression olympics right now, like I’m wheeling over eggshells with every word that I type, but I know I deserve better, I really do! I deserve my Disabled Queen of Darkness, Eclipsa. And she and her wheels deserve a spot on Daron Necfy’s Diverse (and I’m not being ironic because I LOVE YOU FAERIE GOD MOM <3) wall of art, along with an actual (and still autistic)  Star on Wheels . And so do Eclipsa’s husband and their son, Toby. Like all four in the same picture; a family portrait. That Would Be AMAZING!!! Especially if “Grimalkin” was like, like both Eclipsa AND Toby up on each arm IN THIER WHEELCHAIRS like they were lifting weights like in a “strong man” pose cause they’re arms are definitely big enough to support two manual wheelchairs that weigh virtually nothing them cause they’re so strong and they just ... can. 

And Star is parked on the floor in front in her power chair ... with “The Gang” (Trans Marco, Jackie,  Tom, Janna and Starfan13) all gathered around her and they’re all just being happy an goofy and Janna’s in Star’s lap, probably. Starfan13 didn’t have enough room so she’s like, squishing Star’s face with her’s in a hug, you know that cute squishy hug face? 

Ingrid’s in the picture too, sitting in the monsters arms at Toby’s side holding his hand cause he’s a little nervous that he’ll fall. She wanted to be in the photo too and Grimalkin understood her cause they also speak German and they asked her if she could keep Toby company so he wouldn’t be scared. She said okay, but she’s not giving up her comfort item for nothin’, also it will cost The Queen her guillotine. 

Eclipsa’s over on the other arm just lookin’ as chill as ever. Cause she knows that her Lovie would never let her roll off. 

That would look PERFECT on Daron’s wall! Hopefully #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS becomes as popular as other fanon so we can make that happen! Feel to use any of the tags I’ve created to start posting!!! Maybe even said some Disabled Queen of Darkness to Daron!!! (And me of course, if I’ve convinced you that Eclipsa Is Disabled and you want to actively draw her and write her as such please send all your content to me!!! I’d love to see it!!!! <3)    

I have other thoughts on the monster themselves, their love for Eclipsa, it’s importance to the entire freaking plot of the series, and the way they’ve been treated in favor of Toffee and Eclipsa herself, like that line about treating the monster lover as an accessory was there for a reason and I’m pissed, but I’ll write up why later because YOU KNOW WHY... and I wanna go ahead and get this posted before the final airs.  

I encourage everyone who sees this to reblog this even if they’re not in the Star vs. fandom! Like you can consider this a one fandom/character/headcanon/masterpost thing but I feel like it’s a great way to get the general tags of #DRAWHERSITTINGDOWN and #DRAWTHEMSITTINGDOWN started!  Also, REMEMBER: DO /NOT/ USE THE WORD “CRIPPLE” IF YOU ARE NOT PHYSICALLY DISABLED!!!!! 

I know using “if” in an apology is wrong but I don’t know how else to word this so ... I’m genuinely sorry if any other physically disabled people reading this are uncomfortable with my usage of the word in this post? ^ ^; It’s just it’s used as a catchall by other people in our community and after finding cpunk, I recently started identifying with the word to help me find other people ... ^ ^; <3 OX 

Also  people, when you reblog this, please clarify whether or not you physically disabled in the tags in order to help me find other people...  ^ ^; <3 OX I’ve never done this before, so words of encouragement and feed back would also be appreciated, and if you said something ... vaguely kind or encouraging before? ^ ^; <3 Know they still are (just now is your chance to reblog ^ ^; <3 OX)  

I really would appreciate it if @starbutterflyisautistic     and @marcodiazisatransgirl would reblog this too since *themorrison’svoice* YOU GUYS ARE SO COOL!!!!!  ❤ 

And SPEAKING of cool criminal individuals I just want to thank Red for publishing my ask in the first place. She’s helped and inspired so many with the Trans Marco theory and she’s the one who helped me realize I had a basis for my Disabled Queen of Darkness too. Also, she’s the one who inspired the idea of Eclipsa’s husband being some weird bug thing who preferred to stay in their  Mewberty stage, “like an invading body snatcher virus took over.” Because it shows some real contrast between some monsters and the mewmans I think, rather than just being some humanoid oppressors afraid of the scary monsters because they “don’t understand”. Because they had this “mewberty” thing happen to them, where they ether “wouldn’t be back to normal”, or they made the conscious decision to stay in or out of it, good or bad, and if they understood exactly what they were doing to the other monsters and enjoyed it because they considered THEMSELVES the“ideal” of what a monster should look like. And then that bad history was erased through centuries of .... literal humanization I just think there’s a bit more to explore through that narrative then having Eclipsa’s former husband be some cliche Gaston stereotype, or even the “well meaning Nice Guy TM who lets the girl go” trope. 

And I know that making the Mewman King Eclipsa was married to a tyrant is a bit of a cliche as well, but striping Eclipsa of the powers she’s supposed have because of that, giving Eclipsa a physical disability and have her be oppressed because of that, like Star would be with the autism headcanon... It would kinda level the playing flied between Eclipsa and the Monster a bit because THEY’RE BOTH MINORITIES!!! THEY’RE BOTH OPPRESSED!!!!  The Monster a bit more than Eclipsa but still ... the thing common helps them understand each other a bit more and helps this become much more than “ I married my oppressor because I changed them and they changed me” “love” story, because c’mon, so far, the basis for these two finding a connection in these fandom has been “You’re not bad for a ______” AND WE ARE SO NOT DOING THAT WITH WHAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE AN ALLEGORY FOR AN INTERRACIAL RELATIONSHIP C’MON .... 

And I wouldn’t have thought any of this if it weren’t for Red, she’s our rebel princess, she’s the best, loves the wayward sister in the purple dress, she’s given me the courage to fight, for Heckapoo On Wheels, Disabled Dark Queens and Butterfly’s ....and TOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! 

Okay so I hope that wasn’t too corny but like, seriously, I love you Red!! You are ROCK and are (truly) an inspiring beautiful person who’s fun to be around and I hope this isn’t embarrassing or too much because I know we only ever had contact from that ask, but I owe you so much credit for inspiring me to claim Queen Eclipsa for myself as well as the other Past Queens of Mewni for other people with disabilities because it’s amazing that you and Daron have made me feel comfortable in my own skin enough to do that! I love this show and this little niche fandom of Wayward Princesses SO MUCH and it all means so much to me you have no idea and I am SO GLAD you’re a part of it!!! I’m worried that some of this post as well as that ask was worded with some twinges of jealously ... and maybe that’s why it wasn’t originally reblogged .... because I sounded so ...impatient? But I want you to know that I mean this, un-ironically, from bottom of my heart and I’m not just saying for notes or popularity: You are important. You are loved. You have done so much for the community and so much for me and so many other great things and more than enough things for me to thank you for so you don’t need to feel pressured to reblog this, Red! Just know that I thank you from the bottom of my heart and you’ll continue to do even more, I wouldn’t have known there was an interest in Eclipsa being disabled or have the courage to write this if it weren’t for you!! So Thank You!!! OX ❤

If it’s okay, I just want to link everyone to Red’s Princess Marco and Star vs. Trailer’s since they’re Hecka magical and wonderful, haven’t gotten comments in a while and all you Poo heads should leave some more love for them!!!!!   ;)  ❤ 

Princess Marco Trailer: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4pYrOO68ys

Star Vs. Trailer:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qkjUFB-NcA  

Congrats on Trans Marco being canon, everyone! ;) ❤ OX 

Well, here I am, 12:50 AM, Monday. The night before they air the final. About to get my hand brace in the morning. About to finally post something that’s been  in my drafts for a week, with spelling errors and other things I can’t be bothered to fix, with this post being the best post about Eclipsa that you will ever read. With Eclipsa (probably) about to be confirmed to be the abled-bodied ice pop I was worried about. FANON DON’T FAIL ME NOW!!!!!!! ❤ OX  

(Get it...? Cause the saying is? And I’m? Yeah ....Side note about the goat and my sense of humor earlier DO NOT USE THE WORD “GIMP” IF YOU ARE NOT PHYSICALLY DISABLED ETHER, NOT EVEN IF YOU’RE USING THE BADLY NAMED ART PROGRAM TO DRAW ECLIPSA, THANK YOU!)  

 ♠💜😈💋♠ ❤ ALL LOVE ECLIPSA, DISABLED QUEEN OF DARKNESS!!!!!! ♠💜😈💋♠❤

   ♠💜😈💋♠❤AND MAY YOU ALL .... DRAW HER SITTING DOWN... ♠💜😈💋♠❤

 #ECLIPSAISDISABLED #DISABLEDQUEENOFDARKNESS #DRAWHERSITTINGDOWN #STARVSTHEFORCESOFABLIESM #DRAWTHEMSITTINGDOWN