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extravagantliar · 20 days ago

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Varric.

Varric?

We can run away! (No, we can’t; this is just a memory, Bianca… )

Tethras!

Does it haunt you, Child of the Stone? ( yes, doesn’t it haunt you, chuckles? ) @hoboblaidd

Varric?

Hey, Varric!

I’ll stay, you know that. ( But we never get it right, Hawke, do we? )

Varric?

Are you just going to sleep it all away? ( No, I’m coming, I’ll never stop; there is somewhere to return to…home. )

Hey, Varric! Wake up!

He opens his eyes.

The voices ring in his head, clattering and clamouring; blindly, he reaches for something not there, hand running through the air and knocking things off the table next to him, clattering to the floor and waking the aid in the room. Always someone with him, always someone to watch him - but he can’t finish that thought, his head aches and the room begins to spin. There is a deep sickness that stirs within him, and he lurches, much to the dismay of the healer who is now in the room with him. Sweat pours down his face, a bead pooling and matting in his beard. He feels coated in it, overwhelmed by it, and it makes his thoughts swirl. None of this makes sense - the visions, the dreams?

Hallucinations.

A body, rotting somewhere as the soul grappled with something - that’s what someone long ago would have summoned about this. He doesn’t know the thoughts to summon as his stomach turns, and now there are two healers and a shadow in the doorframe. A taller figure as the healers obscure the shadow, the long-drawn faceless shadow holds the same presence as the man who would once lean over his desk, paint his cards, and debate thought with him.

Solas?

He blinks, and it is not him - someone else, another new face acting on behalf of Mae, Dorian, and the Inquisitor. He doesn’t know how many people are in the room; it’s too many whatever it is, and his voice is awash among them, him yelling at them, anger that has not been his since a time in the crossroads in the Winter Palace, maybe since he was Viscount. They don’t listen, he doesn’t recognise the faces, and the fever has settled in his head, half lucid from the terror and half caught by the resting world, never letting him fully into the waking; it’s as if he’s stuck in some limbo, some great magic half keeping him in two places.

It’s bullshit he settles on, no longer thrashing at them. It doesn’t matter that they are something that his brain summoned up as some comfort as he navigates some fresh hell, debating the things still rattling in his head, the dream currently playing out before him, if it was one.

You are not dreaming, Varric.

That shadow divulges in his head as someone else slips into the room, into his vision. Maybe it is a hallucination. If it was, why couldn’t it have been somewhere dry, somewhere with cards? The healers ignore him, but they choose to talk to this new figure, telling them that he is feverish, dream-deluded, and likely needs new sutures.

Ah, the iron smell. That harsh smell of life, almost lost.

So he closes his eyes, and it calms the sick in the pit of his stomach. The clamouring in his head roars to life, summoning bits of his life. Rich, like earth, like the spot in his mind. Loam, like the house lost to the trees. Lime on the walls, acrid and followed by a hint of honey. There is Kirkwall, fry bread in the streets, the pale ale in the Hanged Man, the moment he makes a choice that puts him on this path.

Kirkwall roars to existence, a bustle of people he remembers from twenty years ago. Yet, everything is the same, mostly the same. He’s outside himself, looking from the top down, watching himself preen and talk to a merchant, until someone slips past him and tries to put their hands on his belt - well, Varric remembers this story; he knows the next steps before the version of him in the below completes them. Varric turns the man away in one motion, pushing him without thought into another and causing a sudden shift in the square.

Of course, the man above isn’t watching the fight he caused; he’s always causing one, and he’s watching the entrance on the west side.

He’s looking for lightning to strike. He’s waiting, actually, as if he gives it thirty more seconds, Hawke will appear in his vision for the first time in ten years. If he waits thirty more moments, but his vision blurs and he only hears the laugh of Hawke, and he finds himself clawing at the edge of that memory, the edges of that top down, to only see them, to hear their voice one more time that’s not a memory. His eyes burn, and his voice is raw, screaming for it, just one last time - that’s all he begs. Yet his voice falls on deaf ears, blind eyes, and an empty throne.

What is the point of dreaming if you can’t even see the things you want? Solas is an idiot, he decides, floating along and waiting for his body to respond. Instead, it is grey, a grey that bleeds over his body and saps the pain from his bones.

Dwarves don’t dream.

Yeah, yeah. He knows this. Half waving the thought away with a hand. He can move again; he’s no longer locked to the water; he’s just back flat on sand and gravel looking up, and there are no stars, no lyrium, just the pitch-dark black.

Just the peppering black and grey and a presence he can feel but cannot see just yet. “Yeah, yeah, I know. We don’t dream. This is a hallucination.”

“Correct. I am glad my words do not fall on deaf ears.”

“No, just myopic, I’m afraid; it came with age.” Like other things, bad knees, grey hair, the inability to scale a building like one once could. He doesn’t move; he remains on that shore, pinned somehow. “Hey, Chuckles…”

“Varric?”

“I wrote to you about Kirkwall, about everything.” There is silence that meets him here, just his body reacting to the memory of his friend.

Maybe he is dead.

“Did you get any of them?”

There is no answer; he knows that he won’t get one. He remembers a fire, and the world shifts, summoning that memory around them. He is no longer pinned to the shore, no longer pinned to some rock for someone to peck at him enterally. “I figured you didn’t. I sent them into the world, and nothing else.” Just a bird sent off, the same hope he had sending that raven out of Haven. “Told you how Kirkwall was doing, Sid, the girls. Two of them, by the way.” He doesn’t mention their names, doesn’t mention one is an elf, doesn’t mention that they’re the ones at stake with all of this. He doesn’t mention Rook; the other piece is played wide against his heart.

A fire pops in the middle of the Hinterlands, somewhere in Haven, somewhere in the middle of Crestwood, a fire pops, and he’s back on that stairwell, lying in the remains of Bianca and his own blood, lyrium taking over his body bit by bit.

He’s hallucinating, after all.

“Varric!” It’s the distant shout of Solas, mixed between the Approach and the Winter Palace. It is also Sid; it is also Hawke, Rook, Solas; it is also his mother…and Bianca. The song of the knife is everyone he’s ever loved, lost, ever had and ever found.

He’s hallucinating, after all.

He’s not alive after all. He died on those stairs; all of this is a chain reaction, his body trying to leave his family one last gift, a spirit trying not to leave its body.

He is not allowed to leave his body, fuck fate.

Fuck Solas, he decides. Fuck those words and what they stand for. He picks himself up out of the darkness, he forces it to. He makes himself. There is no try; there is only strength clawing its way past those words. He’s not hallucinating; he’s dreaming.

He’s dreaming.

As he’d heard Bartrand’s laugh, seen Hawke’s walk - the strut, but it’s a dream. He refuses it to be anything but.

He’s dreaming, after all.

He summons the words others had about dreams, how they could be moulded and crafted into the next; he’s a wordsmith, not a dreamer, and he ends back up on that stairwell, back at the bottom, looking from the top down as the him below shouts at Solas, a final plea for something that will not come. He curses his own idealism, being the advocate of the man holding the knife, not about the veil - but about the way one moves through the world and that people are always dying.

He laughs, dying by degrees.

“You find this humorous?” Solas interjects, next to him, somehow.

He’s long past the point of jumping, “Just starting to root for you this time.”

“You always did have a sick sense of irony.”

“I still do; you’d know that if you’d been listening.” The dwarf states.

“I have been, Varric.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Varric starts, half unfocused, “It’s like we only get this in pieces.” He expects some smarmy answer, about how he is a novice to all this and how it’s expected for someone so unpracticed in dreaming, but it does not come. Rather, they just stand there; they watch the great ugly thing play out, a great breath out of Varric and a look that he cannot place on Solas’s features - not of the one above and not of the one below.

The scene fades, like a curtain over a play, and he’s not the one who dims it. There are only two of them, so he wonders if it could be real after all. It could be - could it be? And he is cast back wide into that floating ocean, where that green light beacons him home.

Is he hallucinating?

He’s dreaming. He’s already decided he’s alive, and he is dreaming. He has to be as a voice - another voice pulls at him; he doesn’t have to wallow; he can make his amends if he needs to. There are still grains in that hourglass. He can still follow that great light.

Who cares what it is?

Who cares?

He does, clawing back towards the light.

He opens his eyes. He gasps for that breath, and his hand goes to his chest; the bandages are dry, but he’s met with concern from around the room. He thinks he’s still dreaming, half hallucinating as he moves.

He is alive.

He reminds himself this as Sidri throws arms around him and tells him again he’s not allowed to leave. Those words barely sound like her; there’s an echo to them. There’s a shadow that looks a lot like Solas in the doorframe again. He blinks, and the man is gone.

Sidri remains.

He’s alive, he states, broken in a voice that doesn’t sound like his.

“You’re alive.” She confirms. The same voice she used to silence court, Cullen, and other clowns.

He’s alive.

Just haunted.

#.from the desk of: v. tethras ( headcanon )#.you were never a regret ( HOBOBLAIDD )#.datv swerve #i have played with this for days #.a tale untold ( MARTYRMARKED )#we in this house like to call this the great haunting of varric tethras #my apologies mainly to tepid as they knew this was loaded for days and they will see the rook line and shoot out of their office to KILL ME #anyway i am very sorry that this is very scattered and introspective but welcome to the mind of someone who shouldnt dream

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twopoppies · 10 months ago

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hiii gina did you see this? it’s everything we’ve been saying that happens in this industry https://www.gaytimes.co.uk/originals/matt-terry-the-x-factor-coming-out-interview/

Hi, honey. No, I hadn’t but it really is just the same fucking story over and over, isn’t it? It’s disgusting. And it all sounds so familiar. 😡

GT: Coming to terms with your identity is one thing, but you had to go through that process on one of the UK’s most-watched shows, with various publications then questioning your sexuality. At the age of 23, too. What was that time like for you?

MT: I’m smiling because I feel like I’m finally getting this off my shoulders. I’m a Taurus, so I do everything by myself: ‘I’m strong, I can handle it.’ But, it was so f**king hard, I’m not going to lie. Any comment I saw or heard, any tweets, my heart would drop and I would immediately break into a sweat. I went on the show because I love to sing. I didn’t want to be – it sounds so silly – famous. I’m not here for that. I want to dedicate my life to my passion and my art, which is songwriting and my voice. I went on the show because I had £4 in my bank account, and I didn’t want to be a waiter anymore. When I won, I never thought about what would happen. I didn’t think ahead. I never thought about the press or my sexuality or, ‘What am I gonna tell people?’ The paparazzi would always write ‘Matt Terry kisses male outside pub’ or ‘Matt Terry likes Tom Daley’s Instagram picture.’ I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I hadn’t spoken to my family. I hadn’t spoken to my friends. It was getting on top of me.

Also, I had the pressure of delivering a number-one album, otherwise I’d be a failure. The team I had – I’ll say it – weren’t the best. I don’t think we understood each other very well. I had a manager who… I won’t name names, but bear in mind, I was new. She was like, ‘You need to tell me now – are you or aren’t you gay? I’ve got the whole industry right now asking about you. I’m here defending you, telling them no. If it turns out you are, I’m going to have a massive egg on my face because of you.’ I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. There was no one there to protect or help me. I was like, ‘Okay, I see what’s happening here.’ And that’s when I decided that [my sexuality] is for me. That’s when I said, ‘I’m going to take a step back. I will let you in when I know who I am.’ So, I privately came away from the industry, and lots of people have been like, ‘Where have you been?’ I’ve been discovering who I am as a human and as an artist. This is me taking back control.

[…]

GT: My first reaction to your manager’s comments was to laugh, because it’s almost like a parody of a fictional villain. But, as we’ve seen, these people still exist – and not just in the industry. Celebrities are still having to confirm or deny whether they’re straight or queer because ‘fans’ are demanding to know.

MT: Like with Kit Connor. The whole thing was just a disappointment. We all watched Heartstopper. If you understand the show, you wouldn’t be prodding him about his sexuality.

[…]

With my first album, there were girls in the music videos. I remember turning up on set and the label saying, ‘Here, pick one of these girls as the love interest.’ I’m looking at headshots of all these beautiful girls and I thought, ‘Did I even imagine a girl in this? Or did I imagine a man?’ Before you know it, I’m in music videos snogging women.

I have prepared myself for support and love, but I’ve also prepared for homophobia. I will have some unfollows, but I don’t care. I would rather have 200 followers that love me than 200,000 followers that are homophobic.

youtube

Full interview here

#Matt Terry #Gay times #celebrity coming out #closeting #music industry #copy of a copy of a copy isn’t it?

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ladykailitha · 2 years ago

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All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 12

Hello! Sorry this is late, but I had to take this week super slow because I went and sprained my middle and ring fingers on my left hand tripping and falling into a wall. The hand is mostly better, but it still twinges a bit.

Edie is going through some things, Eddie gets lost, and Steve learns where Harri gets his name.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

***

Steve got home and found Edie at the counter munching away at cereal.

“You do know cereal is breakfast food, yes?” he asked as he went to the fridge to pull out the stuff he’d need to make dinner.

“Cereal is a state of mind, Dad,” Edie said, grinning around a mouth full of milk and Frosted Flakes.

“You’re going to spoil your dinner,” Steve said with a glare.

Edie cocked one eyebrow at him and he sighed. “Yeah, all right. So how was school?”

“Algebra is still the bane of human existence,” she murmured. “I just don’t understand it. I can do the geography portion of the syllabus just fine. But when it comes to algebra, I just...” and then blew a raspberry.

Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve explained it, Uncle Dusty explained it a different way, and Aunt Robin an even more different way than that and if you’re not getting, I don’t know what to do.”

Edie sighed. “I talked to Mr Olsen and he’s just going to have me take geometry next year instead of forcing me through another year of hell.”

“Are you going to get enough math credits to graduate if you do that?” Steve asked.

Edie sighed. “Probably not, so summer school it is. Yay!” she said waving her hands sarcastically.

“We’ll get you through this,” he promised.

“I know,” she murmured. She looked over at the counter where Steve had put aside enough food for an army. “You skip lunch again?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Half of this coming with me to the office because Callen, one of the techs’ mom is going through chemo and he forgets to bring lunch.”

Edie looked at the food on the counter and back up at him. “It’s not for you?”

Steve sighed. “No. You’re not going to get hung up on this again are you?”

She shook her head. “I just worry about you, you know.”

He sighed again. “I know you do, but you don’t have to worry about this. You remember what Dr Rushing said, right?”

Edie heaved out a sigh of her own. “I know. It was a one-time thing. It’s never happened before and it hasn’t happened since.”

“Good,” Steve said firmly. “Now help me chop these vegetables.”

She drank down her milk and put her bowl in the sink. She got out a knife and the chopping board and got to work.

“Anything exciting happen at work today?” she asked.

Steve’s spine stiffened and went completely still. “About that, honey. Has your mom tried to get into contact with you recently?”

Edie frowned. “I guess about a month ago. She wanted me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. But I thought she was trying to trap me again, so I just ignored it, why?”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and told her about his afternoon. “So I’m calling the school and letting them know that she is in town and isn’t allowed anywhere near you, okay?”

“God, I swear that woman is like a bad penny,” Edie muttered. “She just keeps coming back.”

Steve nodded. “Violating the order is bad, and she will get in trouble for it. But she hasn’t tried to physically harm either of us, so I’m not sure what the police can even do.”

Edie nodded back. “I wish she would just go away. Because apparently not even finding another man to scam is enough to get her to forget about us.”

“Nothing warps the mind quite like greed,” Steve agreed. “I’ll talk to a lawyer about what more we can do about her, just to set both of our minds at ease. There must be something more we can do.”

Eddie was lost. He was sure Dustin told him to take the second elevator to sixth floor to meet up for lunch. But now he was starting wonder if Dustin had said the sixth elevator to the fourth floor.

Fuck.

And then he saw his savior in the form of a single glass name plate. He wrenched open the door and went up to the desk.

“Hey, so I was wondering if–” he began.

The woman at the desk cut him off by tapping her sign. Eddie’s eyes followed her finger and went, “Oh.”

He started signing instead. “My sincerest apologies, fair Vanessa! I should have been paying better attention. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Dustin Henderson’s office. I am meant to be having lunch with him, but I have sadly lost my way!”

Vanessa giggled and pressed a button on her desk. She signed back. “I could, but I’m pretty sure he’d take you if you wanted.”

Eddie frowned and signed back. “Who?”

She pointed behind him and he turned. There leaning against his now open door, was Steve. He had his arms crossed and was smiling fondly.

Eddie turned back to her and blushed. Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

“This idiot is on the wrong floor,” she signed to Steve. “Can you take him to Dustin? Tell him to stop letting his experiments run around the building unsupervised.”

Steve laughed. “Come on, Eddie. I’ll get you to where you need to go.”

Eddie signed “Asshole” to her before turning around and following Steve. Her laugh echoed down the hall.

“You have a mean receptionist,” he told Steve as the walked down the hall.

Steve grinned. “I know, isn’t she great? I love her.”

Eddie gulped and shoved his hands in his back pocket. “Didn’t know you were the kind to date the secretary, Harrington.”

Steve laughed. “If I tried that, her husband Nick would make sure my next hearing aid exploded.”

The knot that had formed in Eddie’s chest loosened. “I didn’t see a ring when we were signing, so I wondered.”

Steve nodded. “That’s fair. But he can’t wear one doing his work, so she told him that she wasn’t going to wear one either.”

“Is he deaf, too?” Eddie asked. He knew from Dustin that the company liked to hire hard of hearing and deaf individuals.

Steve shook his head. “One of my best interpreters, though. They came as a packaged deal. I can’t live without Vanessa and Dustin trusts Nick implicitly, I do too.”

Eddie smiled. “It seems like you two have made quite the company here.”

“It absolutely was a team effort,” Steve replied. “Dustin could MacGuiver that shit from his mom’s basement, but he couldn’t get people to listen to him about the technologies.”

“Whereas you could smooth talk a snake out of its skin?” he said, ducking his head and looking up at Steve slyly.

Steve laughed. “Something like that. So it worked to both of our strengths.”

He stopped at a door and then opened it. “Hey, Dusty! Look what I found wondering the halls like a lost puppy.”

Dustin’s head shot up. “There you are! Why didn’t you just message me on your phone, dumbass?”

Eddie flushed in embarrassment. “I thought I could figure it out. But this place is huge.”

Steve laughed. “Well Bo-peep, now that I’ve found your sheep, I’ve got to get back to work.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “Also Vanessa says to keep a tighter leash on your experiments.” He winked at Eddie who protested loudly.

“Hey,” Dustin said, glancing at Eddie quickly, “if you wanted you could come with us to lunch.”

Steve paused at the door and looked to Eddie. “If you don’t mind...”

Eddie shook his head. “You are more than welcome, Stevie.”

Steve felt that familiar swoop in his stomach at the old nickname. “Then sure. Where were you guys thinking of going?”

“Sushi!” Dustin said proudly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass thanks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Not a fan of raw fish, sweetheart?”

Steve’s stomach swooped again and he really needed Eddie to stop with the nicknames and endearments otherwise Steve wasn’t going to have much of a stomach left after a single lunch the way his stomach kept hollowing out.

Steve shrugged. “I’ve tried all kinds, including the cooked kind and it’s just not my thing. You two have fun though.”

Eddie may have panicked a bit because he blurted. “We could change the restaurant.”

Steve smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun. I’ll just pick something more my flavor on Monday.” He waved goodbye and they waved back.

As the door was closing Steve could hear Dustin ask Eddie, “What happens on Monday?”

Steve was in his office when there was a knock on his door. He had taken out his contacts and pulled out his glasses, the beginning of a migraine floating just beyond the horizon.

He had been chugging water and had long since downed pain killers to stave it off. But he could still feel the pressure building behind his eyes.

When the knock came he looked up to see Eddie standing at the door with a take away box and smile.

“I come bearing gifts of the apology variety,” he said holding up the bag.

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have grabbed a candy bar or something later.”

Eddie grinned. “It was Dustin’s idea, I am merely the messenger.”

“Why is everyone fussing about my eating?” Steve sighed.

“He said you tend to overwork and forget to eat.” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

Steve shoulders slumped. “He’s right. Sorry. It’s just that Edie’s been going on about my eating habits lately and it’s set me on edge.”

Eddie walked into the room and set his prize down on the table, sliding it over to him. “They got a reason to worry?”

Steve pulled the styrofoam box out of the bag and hummed happily when the scent of sesame chicken hit his nose. He pulled out the chop sticks and dug in, suddenly ravenous.

After a moment or two of stuffing his face, he shook his head. “Not really. Which is why it’s weird, it’s come out of nowhere.”

“You been eating less lately?” Eddie asked, leaning forward on the desk, having pulled up a chair up close.

Steve cocked his head as he thought about it. “I mean not really. Like yeah, sometimes I’ll work through lunch, but I always make sure to grab something later. It’s not disordered eating or whatever they’re calling it these days.”

Eddie nodded. “Anything that’s happened recently that maybe put her on edge and had her latch on to your eating habits?”

Steve scoffed around a bite of chicken. “You mean other than this really great guy I used to be friends with suddenly coming back into my life via his seventeen year old rockstar in the making?”

Eddie grinned. “Other than that, yeah.”

Again Steve gave his question the weight it deserved before shaking his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

Eddie threw himself back against the chair with a heavy sigh. “You got me then man. I don’t know.”

Steve smiled. “At least you tried.”

“Speaking of my rockstar in training, how’s your rockstar in training?” Eddie asked.

“Other than the fixating on my eating?” Steve asked. “She’s fine. Her mom tried to fuck with us again. Sent her packing via cops and lawyers. Hopefully she’ll stay away this time.”

Eddie winced. “Look, I love the name Edie. It’s beautiful, but who the hell names their daughter Edith anymore?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I know, right? I fought hard for Lilian. Or even just Lily. But no...it had to be Edith. I think it was a family name or some such bullshit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “God, I think that honestly makes it worse.”

“Hence Edie,” Steve agreed. “So how did you and your husband come up with Harri. Edie said it’s spelled uniquely. With an ‘I’ instead of a ‘Y’?”

Eddie huffed and rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “I think Dusty or Nancy said it was after some prince or something.”

Eddie shook his head and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah no. That’s official story. Prince Harry was born to the Prince and Princess of Wales two full years before Harri was even conceived. And when people started guessing that with Jay being English, we just didn’t bother to correct them.”

He grabbed the plaque that had Steve’s name on it and turned it around, covering the last five letters of his last name. It now read STEVEN HARRI.

It took Steve a moment before his eyes went wide. “And Jay was okay with that?”

Eddie shrugged. “It wasn’t Steven or Stephen with a ‘PH’. And I didn’t know your middle name.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Eddie asked. “Why is my son named after a guy who’s name I’ve never spoken aloud in twenty years?”

Steve pursed his lips together and then licked them. “Yeah, man. That.”

“Jay wanted to name him after the man that save my life,” Eddie said softly. “But I was still mad at you about missing Brian’s funeral. Which I now know was because you thought Edie was being born, even if she waited a whole other week to finally make it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t make something up. Not with it in newspapers who the Hawkins hero was. So we used Harri.”

Steve finished his food and threw it away. He wiped off his hands. “Anyone ever guess the real meaning behind the name?”

Eddie shook his head. “Maybe Jeff. But no, everyone else thinks we were British snobs.”

“Well, I’m honored,” Steve said. “Not just because you think I’m a hero, but because Harri’s a good kid. I’m guessing he doesn’t know.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got a letter from Jay that he’s going to get on his twenty-first birthday that will explain it. The surrogacy, his birth, his name. All of it. I wanted to tell Harri sooner, but Jay made me promise.”

Steve nodded. “He’ll probably still be angry. But at least a twenty-one, hopefully he’ll be be mature enough to understand why.”

Eddie slapped the desk with his palm. “That’s the hope.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Harri’s got a dentist appointment. See you on Monday?”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. See you on Monday.”

***

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #reconnecting years later AU #ladykailtiha writes

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hatchetfield-omegaverse · 1 month ago

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Hail Petey, Full of Grace (2/5)

By: Myself & @daisyybellls

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter Summary:

“Oh, his grandchild?” Jerry says with the shit eating grin on his face. “I thought it was an immaculate conception? You're telling me Stephanie that, on top of being an accomplice to assaulting two counselors, your boyfriend also lied to the whole camp.”

Shit. Steph bites her tongue when she realizes what she'd done. What a rookie mistake, revealing Pete's lie like that. She Knew better than that. Honestly. Luckily, Steph has years of experience at avoiding being caught in a lie. Experience that she's more than happy to put to use if it means keeping Pete out of trouble.

“No,” Steph says, keeping her voice measured, “it was an immaculate conception, just like Pete said. My dad has just uh… offered to take Peter in in case his brother didn’t accept him. Like, uh shoot, what’s that guy's name?”

“Joseph.” Boy Jerry says through gritted teeth. “His name was Joseph”

“Right!” Steph snaps her fingers. “Joseph. See if Grace is right about this whole Mother Mary thing, which she is, that would make me Joseph, right?”

A/N:

@daisyybellls: thank you so much to my co-writer girlwithcateyes or editing this chapter (and adding 1200 words bc my brain is finals mush) your the best, and a great big thank you to my friend and ao3 user randomramblingsofme for helping me come up with all the good jokes in this Chapter.

Note: I looked up the bible verses featured in this chapter and picked the translation that would work best, so they might not all match up to being in the same version, but also this is a Hatchetfield fanfic so I don't think anyone cares. I care so now you need to know

Chapter 2: The Annunciation

“Mom, Dad,” Grace says, pushing her peas around. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the Virgin Mary lately.”

Both of their forks stop moving at the same time. Karen and Mark look at each other and then over at Grace.

“Oh honey, you aren’t thinking of becoming a Catholic are you?” Karen furrows her brows. Grace gasps, she’d never. Catholics were idol worshipers who prayed to the dead, she would sooner die than convert to Catholicism.

“Now, let’s not jump to any conclusions, Mother.” Mark says. “It’s normal for a young girl to be curious about such matters. Let's at least hear her out before passing judgment.”

“No I just.” She bites her lip; she can’t just come out and tell her parents about Steph yet, but then she remembers the fifth commandment. “Well there’s this person at school who's experiencing an unexpected pregnancy, and I was trying to find a way to minister to them.”

“Oh lord above.” Karen says, bringing a hand to her chest. There's a metallic clink as her fork hits the plate.“I wasn’t aware that something like that happened at Hatchetfield High, do you think we should pull you out?”

“Oh no!” Grace says. Hatchetfield High might have been a nest of sin, but even Daniel needed to go to Babaylon. As frightening as it could be, Grace knew that saving the souls of her fellow classmates was worth witnessing the sins that she did. “It’s nothing like that, I just think that they just need some extra counseling during their time of need, and I thought Mary would be a good example for them.”

“Well then of course dear!” Karen says “It was important that she said yes to God because otherwise Jesus wouldn’t exist.”

“Your Mother is right,” Mark chimes in, “why I believe that all young ladies should aspire to be as virtuous as Mary was.”

“Do you know who it is?” Karen asks after a moment of silence. “We’ve put aside some funds at the church, and I’d love for some of that money to go to someone in need.”

“I doubt that Stephine Lauter will need any money.” Grace snorts, sawing a piece of piece of her meatloaf. Oh fudge! She hadn’t meant to let that out. She’d promised not to tell anyone. Well cats out of the bag now, and besides, her parents were good, god honoring people. They would want to help Stephanie as best they could.

“Isn’t that the Mayor’s daughter?” Mark asked, brows furrowing.

Grace nods her mouth full of meatloaf. She was going to mention the award Steph got for having sex, but if her parents knew that there was a secret sex ring at Hatchetfeld they’d pull her out for sure, and then she wouldn’t be able to minister to all the lost souls there! She supposed that some secrets would have to just stay secrets. For everyone's sake.

“Interesting,” Karen murmurs, “very interesting.”

Grace continues chewing her meatloaf. She hadn’t meant to reveal Stephaine’s secret but it was better that an adult knew. But now that someone knows, they’ll tell Steph’s dad! Then he can help her out! Get her the support she needs. That's what parents do: they help their children who are struggling.

Grace looks at Pete standing up on that stage, and something finally clicks in her head. She finally gets why some Catholics called Mary The New Arc Of The Covenant: through her the Savior was able to come into the world. Pete looks radiant: the sun frames the back of his head almost light a halo, and she can feel the Holy Spirit pulling her towards Peter. It must have taken so much courage to say yes to carrying the savior, especially since he wasn’t that religious. He’d made the ultimate sacrifice, giving up his body for God’s purpose and even if she was a little jealous that it wasn’t her.

In that moment she decides she needs to do everything in her power to make this a comfortable pregnancy for Peter. After all, he might be able to put in a good word for the Savior. She thinks back to Elizabeth and how she had been such a good friend and confidant, and she was the mother of John the Baptist, one of the most important people besides Jesus.

Oh yes, she can all but hear a holy voice telling her to take Peter under her wing. ‘ Grace,’ it calls to her, ‘It's your job now to help young Peter. He's going to face many trials and tribulations now that he's carrying The Messiah, and it's your job to guide him. Show him and The Messiah my light as I know only you can.’

So when Pete announces in front of everyone on the first day of camp that an angel (i.e THE ARCHANGEL FLIPPING GABRIEL) visited him in a dream, it all clicks into place and before she even realizes what’s happening she’s standing up and..

“Just like MOTHER MARY,” Grace adds. Perhaps a little louder than she means to because now everyone is staring at her, like she’s crazy but it all makes sense now and she can’t believe that no one else can see it. Their savior is right here at Camp Idontwannabang and everyone is acting like it's nothing. They should be kissing Peter's feet for his sacrifice. Boy Jerry turns his eerie gaze on Grace. He smiles widely but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m familiar with her” Boy Jerry says “But Grace, might I remind you that the Virgin Mary was also a woman. ”

“But umm what if…” Grace dry swallows, “what if God gave Peter mommy parts so he can have the Messiah?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Boy Jerry says, “Why would the Messiah come though a man?”

“Umm because he came though a woman last time?” Grace says and Boy Jerry just laughs as the rest of the camp starts to snicker along with him.

"I've seen people like him attend Camp Idontwannabang before.” Boy Jerry sneers, circling Pete like a panther ready to pounce. Grace’s fists clench in anger as he speaks.

“Seductresses. Temptresses. Jezebels of every type” Jerry looks around at the campers, his eyes landing on Girl Jeri who quickly looks down at her shoes. “Unfortunately he's not the first, nor will he be the last, vixen who tries to lead innocent campers astray.”

The chorus of campers starts to grow in snickering, muttering about how Grace must be losing her mind. But she doesn't listen to any of that, the voice in her head cutting through all the nonsense surrounding her.

“But what if you're wrong?” She asks, silencing the crowd with her simple question. She walks up to the stage where Pete and the Jerries are standing and turns to look back at the crowd, steadying herself before asking, “What if the almighty is going to return to earth through this boy?” She points at Pete who seems just as confused. “And what if, by ignoring this child in need and mocking him, you're damning yourself for all time?”

“Well fine,” Boy Jerry says, thumping a Bible down in Grace’s hand, “if you can find any Biblical evidence for this kind of event I’ll believe you.”

Grace gives Pete a quick look, and it’s all over now. Not even Grace is going to be able to spin a Bible verse to prove this immaculate conception. He’s going to have to spend the rest of the summer as the poster child for abstinence for these anti-sex weirdos.

“Umm ok.” Grace says, flipping through the worn pages of the black leather book. Eventually, she lands on a passage and reads, “This is from the Gospel of Mattew, So I will call you Peter, which means ‘a rock.’ On this rock I will build my church, and death itself will not have any power over it.”* The conviction in her voice growing with every word.

She moves the Bible closer to her chest and closes her eyes, her lips move in a silent prayer.

“Well? Go on?” Boy Jerry says gesturing at Peter. More specifically to his belly. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Well- Maybe the lord is going to rebuild his church through Peter.” Grace says her conviction growing with every world, “And after the second coming, the righteous are going to live forever, right? So it’s possible that, through Peter, Christ is going to come again, and death will not prevail over him.”

Holy shit… Grace Chastity might actually be a genius. Maybe he should be a little more concerned at how easily she can twist the Bible to fit her options, but right now Pete is too relieved to think about that. He exhales for what feels like the first time all week.

To his shock, some of the other campers actually start clapping at her words. Boy Jerry snatches the Bible out of Graces hand and flips to a section that’s bookmarked with a well worn cloth bookmark.

“I have another passage that might describe this situation a little better.” Jerry says to the group and turns to a well worn bookmark ribbon. “In the Revelation of Jesus Christ, John writes about a woman he sees who is often described as the whore of babylon. �� And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication.’”**

Pete’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. What’s this guy's damage? Where (or where not) does a thirty-something get off on slut shaming teenagers.

“How could you say that?” Grace cries in indignation. “What if Joseph hadn’t believed Mary: she would have gotten stoned to death! And Jesus would have never been born, and then none of us would be here today!”

The campers start to murmur at that. Peter thinks he hears the word Pharisee thrown around more than once. He can see a vein start to strain against Boy Jerry's forehead that he's sure is seconds away from bursting. After a minute of this, Girl Jerri steps in and grabs Grace's arm. Pete feels a protective pull in gut and is ready to stand up and defend her but the look in Steph's eyes stops him.

“Thank you so much for that spirited conversation Grace but, as a junior counselor, you really don’t have the authority to be arguing with Jerry.” Girl Jeri says, “You wouldn't want to be demoted down to just regular camper, now would you?”

That seems to shut Grace up for a moment. Then, with fire in her eyes she turns to the crowd.

“Well no, but I have a duty to Christ first.” Grace says turning from the Jerries towards the rest of the campers, “And so do all of you, if we don’t support Mother Mary now, who knows what Jesus will do to us when he comes BACK.”

Murmurs erupt from the rest of the campers as both of the Jerries have to forcibly Grace from the stage. She doesn’t go quietly though; wildly kicking her legs back and forth. Pete smiles to himself, knowing that the Jerries are probably going to end up with some bruised shins.

While the Jerries are busy with Grace, the other campers slowly turn towards Steph and Pete and stare. Elijah, the counselor from before, starts trying to herd everyone back towards the cabins for the first activity of the day. Somehow in all the commotion, Pete ends up back by Steph’s side.

“What the fuck what that?” Steph says, pulling him as close as their allowed to.

“I don’t know.” Pete shrugs, “Who knows what goes on in the twisted mind of Grace Chastity. ”

“This is going to be a long summer.” Steph mutters.

And it was. Since he was ‘a bystander to violence against a counselor’, Pete got lumped in with Grace’s solitary confinement and had to stay in his cabin for a week. Which meant Steph wouldn’t see the father of her child for a full week. On the plus side, it meant no Grace for a week, so she supposed it evened out.

Monday is spent making wallets (borning), canoeing (slightly less boring), and making boondoggles (extremely boring). Activities which do nothing in distracting Steph ofPeter's absence. All she can think about is him, alone in his cabin, with no one to know if he needs help. And yet, as she's forced to attend an evening sermon where Boy Jerry waxes poetically on the virtues of ‘Just saying no.’, she can't help but feel like he's the lucky one. At least solitary confinement means that Pete gets to avoid all of this. That night, as she tosses and turns in her bunk, Steph feels like bashing her head in, and she still has six more days to get through.

Tuesday morning, Steph wakes up to the sounds of people still shuffling around the cabin. Strange. Everyone has usually left by the time she’s gotten up. She sits up and stretches, watching her cabin mates rush around the room.

“What’s going on?” She mutters, voice barely audible over the sound of something hitting the top of the roof.

“Good, Stephanie you're up. Start gathering your stuff.” Mary, her stuck up counselor, says. “There’s a bad thunderstorm, so we all have to move to the Big House till it passes.”

Right, well that explained what the sound on the roof was.

“Why? It's just a little rain?” Steph asks, ever the contrarian. Besides, she's warm and doesn’t want to leave her bed.

“Well, if you want to be in a wooden cabin when it’s hit by lightning, then be my guest,” Mary says, “but if not, be in the Big House in an hour.”

Which is how she ends up in the Big House at 10 in the morning. It’s not that bad, it’s the only place on the premises that has air conditioning, so that’s a plus. But, with all 140 campers having been stuffed into the building's confines, it’s a bit of a tight squeeze. Worst of all, she can’t find Peter anywhere. Eventually, she finds the Jerries in the great room.

“Hi Jerri, have you seen Pete?” She asks.

The older woman doesn’t look her in the eyes , but starts muttering something that Steph can’t make out, teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

“He’s still in his cabin.” Boy Jerry says as he comes up behind her. He places a hand on Jeri’s shoulder that Steph doesn’t like at all. “After all, he’s in solidarity, he needs to learn his lesson doesn’t he, Girl Jeri ?”

Jeri nods obediently at his words, her green eyes dark with worry. Steph just furrows her brow.

“What if he gets sick?” She asks, voice thick with worry. “You know won’t just be bad for him?”

“Well, he should have thought of that before he acted out. It's like they say: you do the crime, you do the time.” Jerry says, turning away from her to do something else.

Oh no, oh hell no. He's not getting out of this that easy. Steph pulls on his stupid Virginity Rocks shirt forcing him to look back at her.

“I don’t think my father, Mayor Lauter, would appreciate the father of his grandchild being left out in the cold.” Steph says. She hates pulling the ‘my dad’s the mayor’ card this early in the conversation, but she’s desperate to see Pete safe.

“Joseph.” Boy Jerry says through gritted teeth. “His name was Joseph”

“Right!” Steph snaps her fingers. “Joseph. See if Grace is right about this whole Mother Mary thing, which she is, that would make me Joseph, right?”

“It would.” Boy Jerry says slowly, “Don’t expect any special attention though.”

“I wouldn’t,” Steph says, “sir.”, she adds at the last second. Jerry seems like the kinda guy who likes being called sir.

“Good.” Jerry says, then walks away.

“I’ll do what I can.” Jeri says, giving her a weak smile. “He just get in these kinds of moods sometimes”

Steph gives her a smile.

“Jeri!” Jerry calls and she shuffles after him. She's only just turned when Steph sees it. There, peeking out from just under the hem of Girl Jeri’s sleeve, lays an angry red mark in the vaguest shape of a hand. Steph's jaw clenches as she notes how similar it is in size to Boy Jerry's hands. Holy man indeed.

Wednesday is barely any better. The onslaught of rain hasn't stopped, which means they are still stuck in the big house. They'd spent the night there: boys on one side and girls on the other, a makeshift wall of sheets between them and counselors keeping guard in order to prevent any ‘funny business’. Steph hadn’t slept a wink, too busy worrying about Pete to even consider getting any rest. She hoped that the rain would have stopped by the morning, but unfortunately the storm had other plans. One of the other counselors says that the last time it rained like this was 18 years ago, where it had stormed the entire first week of camp. Steph really hopes that this isn't a repeat of that.

Steph spends the day playing round after round of go fish and board games with some of the kids from the Eleven year olds group, the rain continuing to come down on the roof all the while. Other people have started to notice that Grace is gone. Apparently, she’s kind of a legend among these weird Bible kids. She’s been coming to camp as long as some of them have even been alive. She’s even babysat most of the younger ones for years. And, without Grace around, there’s been a vacuum created that apparently Steph is going to fill.

She’s forced to play about a million games of crazy eights with the younger kids. In between games they seem to have an infinite amount of questions about the storm for her.

“Stephie?” One of the younger ones, Annie Steph thinks her name is, asks after she wins another couple of games “Why did God make the storm come during camp?”

“Uh, listen I’m not really the person to ask about that kinda thing.” Steph says. “I didn’t really grow up with that kinda thing, Church and all that.”

The kids around her flinch as if she’d said she never brushed her teeth before in her life. Just when they all seem to calm down from that revelation a clap of thunder echoes outside and all of them flinch again. A flash of lightning illuminates the room and the kids huddle closer to her, fear evident of their tiny faces.

“Is God mad at us?” Annie ask, clinging to her arm. “Is he punishing us for something?”

“No, of course he’s not.” Steph moves her hand to pet Annie’s hair in a way she’s seen mothers do in movies. A way that she so vaguely remembers her own mother doing before she died. “The storm is nothing more than, uh god bowling.”

That makes the kids laugh a little bit and Annie wipes away her tears. Steph feels a small pang in her chest that feels strange and foreign. She only has a second to think about it before Jerry walks past her on the phone.

“Give me a second. You guys keep playing without me.” Steph says to the kids while moving after Jerry. She can only hear one end of the conversation.

“Yes, he’s doing fine.” Jerry says with that false cheery tone. “No, I'm sorry I can’t put him on the phone. Sorry, that's just camp policy. It’s to combat homesickness. I understand that this is a unique set of circumstances Mr. Spankoffoski, but our policies are clearly outlined on our website. He’s doing great, really taking to the message, yep. I'll pass on the message. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Spankoffoski.”

She follows him up into the laundry room of the Big House: three sets of washers and dryers were pushed up against one wall. Jerry was sitting against the other wall.

“You're lying.” Steph says without thinking. She walks forward, hands on her hips. “Why are you lying to his older brother?”

Jerry sits up, surprised that Steph was in the room with him.

“That was a personal conversation, Stephanie.” Jerry spits out. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is when my boyfriend is stuck in a solitary cabin while you're lying to his brother about it!” Steph practically yells at him. She’s ready to fucking murder this man if he doesn’t get Peter out of solitary soon.

“You know Stephanie,” Jerri says in his trademark faux charming voice, “I had a very similar situation when I was your age. I was seduced by a girl, she got pregnant, and tried to force me to take responsibility for her harlotry.”

“That’s not what Pete’s doing, and you know it takes two to tango,” Steph spits back at him. Her fists clench. “I have a responsibility as the Earthly mother of that child.”

“But that's the thing, you don’t have to. I know Grace can get a little carried away with some of these things, she tends to take things a tad too literally sometimes.”

“She’s not a liar and neither is Peter.” Steph says, lying through her teeth.

“I know. And people who tell the truth deserve to be rewarded, don't you agree?”

“It depends.” Steph says. “I think that tattletales deserve what’s coming to them.”

“Well, I think I could help out anyone who tells the truth. ” Jerry says. “Like say getting them out of camp activities if they were to say… admit to certain falsehoods that they had been involved in perpetuating.”

“Well there haven’t been many camp activities going on lately, have there?” Steph counters. “So that’s not a particularly good reward, now is it?”

“We could possibly also arrange an early graduation, as I understand it the people of Hatchetfield have a little shindig around the Fourth of July? July first seems like a great graduation date don’t you think?”

The Monroe's block party. Steph had gone every year since she could walk. They always bought more booze than anyone knew what to do with. It made the perfect opportunity to steal away and get completely fucked up without any consequences. It was always the best part of her summer. For a split second she considers it. She could last here another three weeks if it meant being able to drink consequence free.

She could imagine it now: swimming in the Monroe's massive pool, the American flag fruit cake that Linda Monroe always insisted was homemade, and stealing her fair share of free booze. God she couldn't wait to spend the evening curling up under the fireworks, beer bottle in hand, making out with… with Pete. Pete who wouldn't be there because he'd be stuck here. Probably going through worse punishments because she'd have sold him out.

No. She wouldn’t let Pete go through the rest of camp by himself. Wouldn’t put him through another two months without her. Besides, she'd miss her baby anyway. She and Pete were in this together, and Steph was not about to sell him up the river for warm beer and fireworks.

“It does sound tempting Jerry,” Steph says, “but I don’t think I’ve really learned my lesson, besides I’d hate to miss the end of Camp fire circle!” She’s sure to a bit of Grace Chasity's brand of pep into her voice as an extra fuck you.

Grace is man handled into a solitary cabin by Boy Jerry and one of the other male counselors. But she doesn’t go down without a struggle. Grace is kicking, screaming, and just generally the whole way to the cabin.

“You can’t do this!” Grace shouts. “I’m a junior counselor, aren't only campers supposed to be put in solitary?” That had been in C.I.T manual last year, ‘only campers who commit major infractions (see appendix 3 subjection 4) will be subject to solitary confinement, based on the infraction committed (see appendix 3 subjection 5)’. Grace had memorized the whole thing last year because she’d missed camp so much.

“Well, it’s really up to the discretion of the head of camp.” Jerry says. “Which just so happens to be me, and I’ve been wanting to this for a long time.”

Then they unceremoniously toss her into the cabin, not even letting her stop to get anything from her cabin. She bangs on the door but her cries seem to fall on deaf ears.

After a couple of hours of pleading with the door Grace realizes something. This has to be a test from God: he’s using the Jerries to make sure that she’s really ready to help the new mother of Christ. This baby has a lifetime of non-believers just like the Jerries ahead of them, and it'll be Grace's job to protect Pete and the baby from harm. Part of her almost pities the Jerries for their ignorance. She knows they'll regret their actions when the new Christ is born. But she tried to warn them and they refused to listen.

They didn’t allow her to go get her PJ’s out of her cabin so she’s left to stew in her Virginity Rocks shirt. It’s unclear whether or not she’s stuck here for only a couple of days or the whole summer, but she plans on making the best of it all.

After nearly three days of trying to avoid the leaks in the roof, Grace had combed the cabin top to bottom. She’d only found one loose floorboard, under which was a box full of porngraphic material (gross she probably touched some wayward spunk!) Some hologain had carved his initials into the floorboard JRF 6/10/2002. Gosh that was only about a week into camp. Grace can’t even imagine what someone would have to do to get sent to solitary in the first week. Well she was in solitary the first week… but that was different! She did the work of the lord!

On the third day of her confinement, she’s praying on her bed when the door opens.

“Are you going to let me out of solidarity now?” Grace asks when the Jerries walk through the door.

“You were never in solidarity, we just thought you could use some alone time after your little outburst.” Boy Jerry says. Grace looks at his legs but he’s wearing long khakis, and the bruises that she had seen the last time they spoke were hidden.

“We don’t want to encourage people to rebel against authority, god doesn’t like that.” Girl Jeri says, putting her hand on Grace’s thigh. Her smile seems more plastic than usual. “You have to understand that.”

“We must obey God rather than men.”*** Grace mutters under her breath. She thinks of Jesus turning over the tables in the temple, of Daneil in the Lion’s den, Esther disobeying the king of Babylon.

“You should come join us for a craft circle so that all the campers see how well you're doing.” Boy Jerry offers, “We're weaving baskets today. I know that's a favorite of yours.”

“Well, I’m not going to change my beliefs based on anything you say.” Grace says. “So if that’s going to be a problem, then you might as well leave me in here.”

The Jerries look back at each other and seem to have a whole conversation in the span of a look.

“Listen Grace,” Jeri says, “we need to know that we can trust you not to revolt against the camp, ok?”

Revolt against camp? That had never been her intention; she was just trying to reveal the word of Christ to her fellow campers, sure she did assault Boy Jerry, and she did feel bad about that, but she wasn't about to overthrow the Jerries.

“I’m sorry about your knees, Boy Jerry.” She says, bowing her head. “I was just trying to do what you told me to do.”

“What do you mean dear?” Jeri asks. She sits next to Grace on the bed and she instinctively leans her head on Jeri’s chest.

“It's just that you always taught me to be loud and proud of my love for Jesus Christ.” She says as Jeri pets her hair “And I was trying to show my support for the new Mother Mary.”

Jerry continues to glare at her but, just as he starts to say something, Jeri cuts him off.

“I know that dear.” Jeri says. “But sometimes in the process you hurt people, so why don’t you come warm up in the big house and get some hot cocoa and a shower, then we can talk this out ok?”

Grace sniffles, it had been hard these past couple of days. The last time she’d gotten into trouble was when she’d stayed up an hour past her bedtime when she was five years old and that had eaten her up for years. This kind of rebellion wasn't in her nature, even if she was doing the right thing. It must have been so hard for Jesus; having to rebel against authority to spread God's love.

“Yea, that sounds nice.” Grace says, standing up and for the first time in three days she leaves the cabin.

She’s granted a hero's welcome when she walks into the Big House, the campers quite literally breaking into applause at her entrance. Some of the younger campers cling to her leg as she walks though the big house. Everyone high fives her, even Gabe gives her a respectful nod. The Jerries try to calm them down but everyone is going completely feral and don’t even notice what’s going on.

“Guys,” Grace giggles, “I know you all missed me so much, but we really shouldn’t be focused on me right now.” she motions for everyone to settle down a little bit. “We really should be focusing on the mother to be? We have so much to do before the baby gets here. Where is he?”

Everyone goes silent at that. Grace looks around trying to see what’s happening. She looks to Girl Jeri for answers, but the Co-head pastor won't her gaze.

“Where is he?” She asks. “Come on, where’s Peter?”

Steph is the first one to meet her eyes.

“He’s still in solitary.” Steph says, glaring behind her at the Jerries. “They haven’t let him out since they put you in there”

“You what?” Grace says and in that moment lightning flashed across the sky. It's then that everything clicks. That's the reason the storm is happening. God must be angry at the Jerries if the storm has lasted this long.

“Well, you have to let him go.” Grace says, crossing her arms. “Why do you think the rains have been this bad? The Lord has been made angry that his new Queen of Heaven is being ignored!”

The campers look among each other. But Stephine is the first one to say anything.

“You're right, Grace.” Steph says. “We really should let him out, maybe then we can get back to all those fun camp activities we haven’t gotten to do since we’ve gotten stuck in here.”

There’s something off about Steph's tone, but Grace doesn’t care about that right now. Some of the younger campers agree with her. Then their older siblings move to agree, soon all of camp is cheering to let them go.

“LET HIM OUT! LET HIM OUT!”They all chant in unison, Grace and Stephanie's voices some of the loudest.

Boy Jerry seems flabbergasted as he tries and fails to get everyone under control. Grace sees Jeri whisper something in his ear and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine!” Jerry yells. “We can let him out!”

That’s all it takes for the campers, led by Steph and Grace to barrel out of the big house and towards the Gomorrah cabin to free Pete, stopping only briefly for Steph to grab a key ring from Boy Jerry's belt.

Grace organizes everyone into a line (marching two by two, Noah's arc style) as they march towards the cabin. Steph struggles with the keys. Then she finally finds the right one. “Pete?” She calls into the cabin.

There's a moment of deafening silence as everyone holds their breath. It takes a moment till Pete answers the door with a “Hello?”

All of them explode in cheers as a very confused Peter Spankoffski walks out of the cabin. He looks bewildered as everyone starts to celebrate. What's more, seemingly the exact second that Pete steps out of the cabin, the rain stops and the sun shines on Camp Idontwannabang once more, which just makes everyone go crazier.

“What’s going on?” Pete asks, looking at Steph. He’s too close to her for camp regulation, but Grace can give the holy family a break on this occasion. “They locked the door on me and wouldn’t tell me anything when they slipped food though.”

“The Lord was punishing the camp.” Grace says, looking at the clear blue sky with the appropriate amount of reverence. “For keeping his chosen one locked up, he sent a storm, and now that you're free he’s lifted his punishment.”

“Wel, l” Jerry says, crossing his arms over his chest ,“since the Lord Of The Universe has forgiven us I suppose a celebration is in order.”

His voice sounds different from Jerry’s usual happy voice, and Grace doesn’t understand why. They should be celebrating. The campers cheer again.

“Hey Grace?” Stephanie tugs. “Would you mind covering for us for a bit? I need to talk to Pete for a second. Alone. ”

She’s not supposed to. As a Junior Counselor Grace is tasked with making sure that campers are not left alone with each other, especially campers of the opposite sex. But Steph is dating the next earthly mother of the Messiah and that is a lot to take in. Gosh, maybe Pete hadn’t told Steph that it was the next Jesus. Maybe she had a dream about being the earthly father of Christ. Grace says a silent prayer that she took it well and nothing happens to him.

“Of course, Steph!” Grace says, her normal pep entering her voice “Just make sure you guys are back in time for the fire circle, ok?”

Steph nods quickly, grabbing Pete’s hand as she does. They walk off together into the long light of smmer. Grace can swear that she sees twin circles of light encircle both of their heads. She hopes that she remembers to tell the baby about them. Crimmeny she might even end up as Aunt Grace. She smiles at the thought. Auntie Gracie certainly has a nice ring to it.

Steph doesn’t take her hand off him till they’re a safe distance from any prying eyes. She’s gotta make sure that Pete is alright and that they didn’t do anything to him while she couldn’t see. They finally reach a clearing in the witchwood that’s far enough away that no one else can see them.

“Are you ok?” She asks, turning to him “Did they do any freaky shit to you? Did they hurt you? Because we can sue if they did.”

Pete just looks at her for a moment and giggles.

“No, of course not,” Pete smiles at her and that part of her brain that had been screaming danger for the past week calms down a little bit, “I basically got put on bed rest for three days.”

“Good.” Steph says, taking her hands off of his shoulders. “I was so worried that something would happen to you or the baby and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

“I’m ok, I promise” Pete says. Steph can’t help but sniffle. She didn’t think of herself as a crier, but the last couple of days had kept her on high alert.

“Hey Steph,” Pete says with a smile, putting her hand on his bump so she can feel a little kick, “do you know what today is?”

“Uhh, it’s June 9th I think?” She says wiping a tear off her face. “I don’t know. They all kinda blurred together during the storm.” She’d taken a couple naps to stave of boredom, though now she wasn’t sure how many times Jerry had called for lights out.

“It’s June Tenth actually.” Pete says. He nudges Steph with his elbow. “Happy Birthday. Congrats on being a legal adult.”

Oh. He’s right. Usually she would have been planning her party for months. Would have had a countdown going for weeks now, culminating with a celebratory birthday pancake breakfast at Miss Retro's. But she’d been too busy worrying about going to camp, stressing out over the pregnancy, and dealing with whatever the hell Grace was doing to think about herself.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize.” Steph murmurs. “Guess I am.”

It didn't feel real. This time last year she’d been drunk off cheap beer: She, Brenda, and Stacy had organized the first real rager of the summer. They’d invited anyone who was anyone and the smoke club of course, they might have been losers but they always shared their weed so they always got invited. Max had smashed her face in the grocery store cake and it had only said APY BTD SEP. She’d gotten plastered and made out with Jason before hurling off her dad’s balcony. It had been her best birthday on record.

She'd promised herself last year that she would throw an even better party for her 18th birthday. She wanted to throw the biggest rager Hatchetfield had ever seen to celebrate being an adult. Being free from her father.

And now she was here. In the middle of the woods with ‘Mirco-Peter’ Spankoffiski, quite possibly the biggest loser of Hatchetfield High, feeling his pregnant stomach. What a year it’s been. She almost feels disappointed. Then the baby kicks and Steph starts to cry. Because there was nowhere else she’d be right now than in the middle of the woods with her little family. Overcome with emotion she leans down and kisses the bump.

“Listen baby ” She says leaning in so only the baby can hear, “You know your granddad is a grade a asshole but I promise I’m gonna be a better parent, I don’t know how yet but I’m gonna at least be better than him.”

She kisses Pete’s stomach one more time before leaning up to kiss Pete again.

“I love both of you.” Steph murmurs, kissing him on the cheek. They’d said it before, right before they’d figured out he was pregnant in fact, but she hadn’t really said it since. Her dad had never really been that affectionate with her. She’d learned at an early age that affection was a sign of weakness. Something that had definitely carried over into her relationships.

“Happy birthday babe, love you too.” Pete says when they pull away. They didn’t need to acknowledge what a big deal it was for her to say that to him. But that look in his eyes says I'm proud of you and that was enough for her. “I couldn’t get you a cupcake or anything, but I promise to get you something when we’re out of here. IOU is a better birthday than one at abstinence camp.”

“I’ll hold you to that” Steph smiles. “Come one we should get to the fire circle before anyone sees that we’re missing, don’t want Boy Jerry on our asses.”

The fire circle is actually pretty fun, everyone’s excited to be outside for the first time all week. Jeri brings out some rope friendship bracelets. Annie shows Steph how to do it and she’s actually not half bad at it. She makes a trans one for herself and is getting started on a matching one for Pete when none other than Grace-fucking-Chasity sits next to her. Steph rolls her eyes as she sits down.

“How’s the bracelet coming?” Grace asks, clearly awkwardly trying to make small talk. “I like the colors, they remind me of camp.”

“Sure they do, Grace.” Steph chuckles a little bit at that. “This ones gonna be for Pete but I can make you one afterwards if you want?”

“Oh, that’s ok.” Grace says. “I think that you should have a matching one with Pete, almost like wedding rings.”

That idea makes Steph’s heart light up. She’d never really been able to commit to a person before. She’d always been the one to break things off before they got too serious. She’d never been the first one to say she loved someone. Pete was actually the guy she’d said ‘I love’ you the most (six whole times). And yet… She wouldn't necessarily mind marrying Pete.

In fact, the idea of marrying Pete sounded nice. She always thought that marriage meant having to spend her life tolerating someone else's presence. But the idea of getting to wake up next to Pete, to go to sleep in his arms. Getting to be around him everyday. It sounded amazing. A smile spreads across her face at the thought of it. Besides, they were having a baby together and that was already way more commitment than marriage.

“I guess they are.” She says, warming to the idea of marriage to Pete the more she thinks about it. “I guess at the end of the summer we'll get married.”

“Good.” Grace says picking up a set of friendship bracelet strings. “You should get married before then, I don’t want the Lord Jesus to be born into a broken home.”

See that’s the thing with Grace Chastity, you really never know what the fuck your gonna get with her.

“I don’t think the baby will know that they were born out of wedlock.” Steph says.

“Oh Steph,” Grace gives her a look like ‘ oh poor you’ that fills Steph with irritation, “I always forget that you weren’t raised religious, you see Jesus is God and he’ll see that he’ll be born out of wedlock and then you guys might not get to go to heaven.”

“Sure.” Steph rolls her eyes. She doesn't wanna deal with this right now “But we can’t as well get married at camp, can we?”

That seems to shut Grace up enough that she can finish her friendship bracelet. She doesn’t bother Steph the rest of the night, and after she gets her stuff out of the big house she sleeps like a baby on her uncomfortable camp cabin mattress.

The next morning someone gets her up at the ass crack of dawn. Steph whines as she turns over getting ready to tell who ever it is to fuck off.

“Come on.” Her counselor Mary says. “There’s camp announcements this morning, it’s mandatory attendance, so get dressed.”

Despite her brain screaming that she shouldn’t, she gets dressed anyway and shuffles out the main pavilion. There’s a seat waiting for her up front next to Pete. She takes a seat and spaces out for most of the announcement. Towards the end she tunes back into something interesting. Grace is standing on stage again next to the Jerries. She smiles to herself as she notices that Jerry is standing as far away as possible from Grace.

“I’d like to thank our very own Joseph ” Grace says in a voice that’s just a little to sweet for the sun still rising, “Stephanie Lauter has proudly offered to marry Pete despite the fact that he appears to have gotten pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Steph!” Pete nearly yells. “I mean I’d love to marry you, but I think that’s something we should discuss before you talk to Grace Chastity about it!”

“What?” Steph asks, suddenly wide awake. “When did I agree to that?”

“Last night at the campfire!” Grace says. “Remember how we were talking about you and Pete getting married before the baby comes? Well I thought why not get married at camp during parents weekend! I’ve prepared everything, they're even gonna let you push your bed together for at least one night! And I mean you should be able to petition for a couple more nights in the same cabin since you will be married after all!”

“I’m sorry.” She says lowering her voice so only Pete could hear. “You know how she fucking is, I mean I wouldn’t mind marying you either but she took the idea and ran off with it.”

Steph doesn’t know whether to throttle or thank Grace. She’s stuck between the desire to stay with Pete for the rest of the summer and the humiliation of having to marry Pete whatever that means to Grace in front of basically everyone she’s even known. Not that the actually marrying part would be embarrassing just the fact that it was happening at fucking abstinence camp.

Pete, an angel, smiles and squeezes her hand reassuringly.

Wait… If they were married then she and Pete would be able to share a cabin, unsupervised together. She could spend every night with him and the Jerries wouldn't be able to say anything. After, it wouldn't be premarital, so it's not a sin. Steph looks at Pete, who seems to have put it together seconds before she did. He winks at her and she has to keep herself from laughing.

“So who should we invite?” Grace asks. “I already got Jerries to call Steph’s dad and Pete’s older brother, but is there anyone else we should invite

“Well, you should invite Ruth and Richie.” Pete says trying to hide his smile “I’m sure they’ll wanna see us get married.”

God, Steph loves her boyfriend. No Steph loves her fiance.

A/N:

@daisyybellls: Thank you for reading! Tune in next time for a wedding, and cameo's galore!

* Matthew 16:18

**Revelation 17:4

***Acts 5:29

@girl-with-cat-eyes: I hope you all enjoyed this! Special thank you to pizza for writing this chapter, I really loved how it turned out. As always, thank you for reading and please feel free to tell me what you think in the comments! Shoutout to my lovely co-authors Spoons and Pizza and helping me write this!

This is a sequel to Tear Down My Reason by Calmly Chaotic and What An Ass, What A Bitch, What A Cuck by Calmly Chaotic and mars_of_the_stars

Tag list:

@lady-loveluck

@forever-forgotten-angel

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revserrayyu · 8 months ago

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2.2 Penacony thoughts [part 4]

**Spoiler warning** as we are nearing the very end of the story. Discussing on everything that happens once we wake up after the first boss fight until right before we enter the Horizon of Existence with Acheron. Do look away if you haven’t reached that place yet.

Ma’am, what do you mean by this??

Here I am, wandering around reality all confused, and yet the game still has the audacity to make jokes!

I thought Boothill was just being silly, but if Dan Heng also forgot, then it must be serious. Then I remembered there was one occasion last patch where we also forgot about Acheron’s name when talking to Welt. Or Himeko. I don’t recall which parent it was but we were near Clockie’s statue at the time.

So I saw Ratio, Topaz and Aventurine chatting with each other from afar and thought nothing of it, only to finally realize after our beloved gambler greeted us that YES it has indeed been a while because he was SUPPOSEDLY DEAD and he CLEARLY ISN’T ANYMORE, THANK GOD! I believed he was gonna be fine, thanks to Ratio’s advice and the fact Aventurine stated he wasn’t going to join his family yet, but then hearing Topaz’s call with Jade and how the Aventurine Cornerstone lost its light made me doubt his status just a little bit, but overall I’m so happy to see our man alive and well. I just wish.. it happened differently? I was expecting this grand reunion cutscene after his death-defying performance and he just.. shows up in the hotel with a completely normal interaction.

That is a whole lotta words, honey, but good for you I guess?

Screwllum jump-scare, also accompanied by lots of words that my mind can’t focus on right now.

… Pardon me? No. Surely not. We still have a whole other patch to get through after this, Welt! Needless to say, at this point in the story, confusion was at an all time high and Penacony’s story was beginning to lose its luster for me because the “ending” didn’t feel like a true conclusion.

Despite the unsatisfying feeling, we indeed arrive back on the Express. It has been a long while since we had a good adventure with our fellow Nameless. I hope he can join us fully in the next planet. Surely he would keep us from getting in trouble.

I feel like this comment isn’t only because we’re the main character, but also because as the player, we were able to view different people’s perspectives aside from the Trailblazer’s.

Is this a date? Sounds like a date. Regardless, I accept!

I can’t believe they actually had credits rolling. It’s giving Argenti trailer flashbacks and they’re really making it seem like this is the end of Penacony. Worth noting that March and Acheron’s real names aren’t listed while Welt and Aventurine’s are.

What the fuck do you mean?? For real though, hearing this after having one of the easiest boss fights of my life is a bit reassuring because I just knew something wasn’t quite right about all this!

Black Swan then retells the whole journey to us, from start to finish while asking us to pick out the one flaw in the whole story, which just so happens to be us running into Misha in the hotel’s lobby. He’s a major flaw that contradicts all other information in the story because that moment shouldn’t have been real. As for much recent occurrences, they don’t appear to be reality either because.. we have yet to actually wake up.

Still within the dream, we experience some deja vu because isn’t this exactly what Acheron says to us the very first time we meet her in 2.0?

Well aren’t you just a splendid little cheat code. No wonder the “Dreammaster” wanted to kick you out of Penacony.

So because we able to realize that seeing Misha in reality was an illusion, we were spared from being trapped like so many other residents of Penacony. I’m honestly surprised how many twists and turns this story can keep introducing to us when we’re so close to the story’s ending, but it’s impressive.

Robin realized there was a flaw in her dream too, which just so happened to be the flashback of her and Sunday finding the injury bird. Apparently that illusion was too blissful to be true? Wild.

We then found out that this fancy little bullet is the relic that Acheron had to return to its rightful owner.

Posing as a Galaxy Ranger to get a real one’s attention so they (Boothill) can properly use the relic in the next stage of the plan is a surprising move from Acheron. Who knew she could play 3d chess.

Firefly deserves some credit too, naturally, since it’s due to her that everyone was able to find us and understand the key to breaking free of this endless dream. By following Elio’s script, one is bound to have a knack of planning ahead and carrying out perfectly timed moves.

The end of Penacony is near but the fact it might actually come at the cost of that precious girl’s life ain’t bringing me much joy!

Last part coming up next and yet there’s still so much to chat about aaahh..

#honkai star rail #black swan #aventurine #acheron #robin #gameplay #revs rambles

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thatfanfictionchick · 8 months ago

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This is intended to be...archival, for myself, mostly. But if you find it interesting you should definitely check out Ikemen Villains!

Ikevil Event - Wrapped in Wicked Romance pt.2

Ellis's Route Ch. 2

·✦...·✧

Ellis: “The baguettes here are really delicious. I bought some the other day, and when I went home they disappeared in a flash.”

Ellis: “Victor was sulking because he didn’t get to try any.”

Kate: “Haha. I’m looking forward to eating it. What sort of jam should I have… Which do you recommend, Ellis?”

Ellis: “The most popular one here is marmalade, but I like the cranberry jam.”

Ellis: “But I want you to eat what you like.”

Kate: “Oh, I’d love them both!”

Ellis: “Okay, we’ll buy both, then.”

Kate: “H-huh?”

Ellis bought baguettes, jams, honey, ham, pickles, and more.

(He keeps taking me to all kinds of shops I’ve never been to before…)

(So even just preparing for the picnic is a lot of fun.)

Kate: “Even though I’ve lived in London for so long, I had no idea these places even existed.”

Ellis: “Looking for delicious restaurants is one of my hobbies.”

Kate: “Is it so you can introduce others to them too?”

Ellis: “Why do you think that?”

Kate: “I don’t know, just watching how you interact with other people in town.”

I was nervous about being seen in the wheelchair, but the people in town were surprisingly kind.

I had a feeling it was because I was with Ellis. He was kind to everyone, and they all seemed to know him.

Mechanic: “Are you still making things like that, Ellis? If you’ve got some free time, you should come help me out in the factory!”

Ellis: “Sure. Jude told me I could have the day off next Tuesday.”

Boutique Employee: “Oh, Ellis! Perfect timing. Could you please hold this for a second?”

Ellis: “Like this? Hey isn’t this the dress Ted brought you the other day? Think it’ll sell?”

Boutique Employee: “Definitely! It’s all because you introduced me to such a talented buyer! Things are going great here.”

Boutique Employee: “Hey, are you still working at that dangerous mobster’s company?”

Ellis: “I made a promise to Jude I have to make good on. I’ll stay there until I fulfill it.”

Fruit Seller: “Oh, are you hurt, young lady?”

Kate: “Ah, yes. I sprained my ankle.”

Fruit Seller: “Ellis is such a good boy, as always. Here, take this apple with you.”

Ellis: “Thank you. Oh, the medicine you said you needed earlier is at Mr. Bates’s pharmacy.”

Fruit Seller: “You remembered that? I’m so happy! Here, take this as a bonus.”

(Ellis is super kind to not only me, but to everyone.)

It’s no wonder everyone in town adores him.

Ellis: “You’re smiling. What is it?”

Kate: “When I looked at you, my heart felt warm for some reason.”

Ellis: “Hmm? I don’t really get it, but that’s cute.”

(...C-cute?)

Ellis: “Well, our basket’s full. Let’s go.”

(Maybe being able to say things so casually like that is the secret to being loved and adored…)

Besides the things we bought, we had a basket full of gifts we got from others in town.

We arrived at a beautiful meadow filled with flowers and unfolded our picnic blanket.

Kate: “Wow, you’re right! This baguette is delicious!”

Ellis: “I’m glad you like it. I recommend putting a bunch of butter on it and eating it like toast.”

Kate: “Let’s save some and take it home. I’d like to do that for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

Ellis: “Hehe. Okay. I’ll peel the apple. Hang on a second.”

Ellis was acting like he was my real boyfriend. It was easy to get caught up in the mood of it all.

And thanks to his kindness, my heart felt much lighter than this morning.

(I never imagined I’d have such a lovely day when I sprained my ankle.)

Kate: “Ahh… I’m so happy.”

Ellis: “Are you? That’s good.”

Ellis: “Hey, Kate.”

Kate: “Hm? What?”

Ellis: “How happy are you right now?”

Kate: “Hmm… Probably the happiest I’ve been in a few months.”

Ellis: “Oh…”

Ellis murmured as he skillfully peeled the apple with his black knife, the blade easily separating the fruit’s skin from its flesh.

Ellis: “I suppose it’s difficult to make people feel the happiest they’ve ever been on a first date.”

Kate: “Oh, is that what you were trying to do?”

Ellis: “Yes. Here’s your apple.”

He held out a slice of the peeled apple, looking at me expectedly.

(Uh, is he trying to feed me? That’s kind of embarrassing…)

But I told myself we were pretending to be a couple after all, so I calmly opened my mouth.

(I can’t believe he went to all this trouble for my first mission. He’s really dedicated.)

(How does he manage to be so concerned with other people’s happiness?)

Ellis: “...Have you ever felt so happy you wished that time would stop?”

Kate: “So happy that time would stop, hm?”

Ellis: “That’s right. You feel like a certain moment is perfect and complete, so much so that you don’t even need the future. Like that moment’s enough.”

Kate: “No, I don’t think so.”

Ellis: “I see. That’s good.”

Kate: “It is?”

Ellis: “Yes, because if you haven’t felt that yet, someday I might be able to make you feel perfect happiness.”

(No one’s ever said something like that to me before.)

(But why is he so serious? Well, if he’s doing this because we’re pretending to be a couple I need to play along.)

Kate: “Well, in that case, I’ll make you the happiest you’ve ever been too.”

Ellis: “You will?”

Kate: “Of course! We’re a couple, right? It’s not fair if only one of us is really happy.”

Kate: “When are you happy, Ellis?”

Ellis: “I…”

Ellis: “...can’t think of anything.”

(He thinks so much about other people’s happiness, but not of his own…)

It seemed strange, yet typical of Ellis. I felt like I got a good glimpse of him today.

Kate: “Well, let’s discover things that make you happy together!”

Ellis: “...Oh.”

Kate: “What?”

Ellis: “When you’re smiling… maybe.”

(I’ll never be able to compete with Ellis when it comes to spoiling your partner.)

I felt myself taking this game of pretend a bit too seriously, and I quickly turned my head away.

Kate: “Please say that to your real girlfriend.”

Ellis: “What do you mean?”

Kate: “Save those sweet words for your real girlfriend, I mean.”

Ellis: “I just said what I thought, that’s all.”

Ellis: “Plus, you looked happy to hear it.”

(...How is he so sweet?)

I felt my face flush as he stared at me.

Ellis: “...Hmm.”

He blinked as if he just thought of something and then gently pushed me down on the blanket.

Kate: “W-wait, Ellis…”

Ellis: “If I were your real boyfriend, would you be happier?”

Kate: “What?”

Ellis: “I want to be your boyfriend. Because I think I can make you happier.”

Ellis: “Be my girlfriend for real, Kate.”

I looked up in shock as he lay on top of me.

Kate: “Don't tease me like that…”

Ellis: “I'm not.”

(We just met, and this is the first time we've spent any time alone. We can't become a couple just like that.)

(I know we're supposed to be pretending, but this is going too far.)

Kate: “I-I know you're trying all kinds of things to make me happy.”

Kate: “But you should only do these things with someone who you really love.”

Ellis: “But I do love you. So doesn't that make it okay?”

(Is he serious right now?)

Ellis: “I can make you happy.”

Ellis: “That's what I'll live for.”

He spoke as if we'd had some sort of unrequited love that had gone on for years.

And even though it was clearly a lie, his twilight-colored eyes were tinged with a strange heat, as if he were telling the truth.

(Something feels strange…)

His arms were placed on either side of my face, creating an illusion that felt like he was trapping me in a cage.

It felt like if I said yes, I would be trapped there forever.

Kate: “I-I…”

Kate: “I can't answer until I know more about you.”

Ellis: “...I see. All right, then.”

He slowly sat up and pulled me up as well.

Ellis: “Then I'll tell you a lot of things until you feel like you know me.”

Kate: “Okay.”

He smiled calmly at me, but…

The disturbing illusion I'd just felt wrapped around my body like ivy.

As we chatted about this and that, the sun set and the wind grew cold.

Ellis helped me back into the wheelchair and we headed back to the castle.

(He barely let me walk all day.)

When we entered the dense forest leading to the castle, Ellis suddenly stopped.

Kate: “Ellis? Is something wrong?”

Ellis: “There might be a bit of trouble. What a shame… It was such a happy day, too.”

Kate: “What?”

Ellis: “If you get scared, just close your eyes. It'll be over soon.”

·✦...·✧

[bitter end] [premium end] [main page]

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil event #ikevil ellis

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lonesome-witching · 2 years ago

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Romance Isn't Dead

We're back to doing new prompts. This one being skeptic Nancy and ghost hunter Robin. To whoever send this anonymous prompt, you have read my mind because I have like two ideas for way longer fics with similar ideas but I tried to write something new and I hope you like it.

For those of you that didn't know yet, prompts are back open! You can send me any and all ronance prompts here, which is just a link to my asks. I have already gotten a few to get to but I will be writing them as soon as possible.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Robin’s bright smile almost made up for Nancy’s discomfort. The dimples in her cheeks were distracting enough.

“It’s gonna be interesting.” Robin defended herself.

“There is a blood stain on the bed.” There was and Nancy was now pointing at it. The brown stain that stretched over most of the middle of the mattress. It made her stomach turn.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Robin, this was supposed to be a vacation.” Nancy sighed.

“It still can be. I’ll just be working in the meantime.”

“Working on what?”

“I’m gonna write a book.”

Nancy’s eyes widened. Her interest peaked. “A book? What about?” She almost sat down on the bloodstained bed before stopping herself.

“Ghosts.” Robin beamed as the word escaped her.

“Ghosts?” The disdain in her voice must have been obvious because Robin started waving her hands to stop whatever she thought Nancy would say next.

“I know, I know you don’t believe in all that but I’m gonna prove it once and for all. This is the bed Chrissy Cunningham was murdered in. Remember? You wrote an article on that story.” Robin’s hands waved at that same blood stain Nancy had pointed out.

“That was three years ago. Her boyfriend cut her open or something.”

“Yes! And this is a shitty motel so they never threw any of the shit out. This is pretty much a crime scene.”

“You should not sound this happy about that. You just booked us a romantic getaway to the scene of a murder.” Nancy snapped back.

“Okay, I know this isn’t what you signed up for but come on, Nance, this will be so exciting. We’re gonna find some ghosts and write a book on it and we’ll be rich.” Robin reached out to grab Nancy’s hands and she couldn’t help but crumble.

“Ghosts aren’t even real.” She whispered as her girlfriend pulled her closer.

—

“What are you doing?” Nancy threw up a balled piece of paper at the back of Robin’s head.

“I’m making an ouija board.” Robin’s head was bent over her own piece of paper, her back hunched.

“We could have bought one of those on the way in. That way we’d be done sooner and we could have actually gone somewhere nice for dinner.”

“I didn’t want to spend your money on this.”

Nancy pushed herself off her chair, sitting down next to her girlfriend on the floor. Robin’s tongue was poking in between her lips as she wrote the alphabet on the paper. It was adorable.

“You really think you are going to prove ghosts exist with a stupid children’s game?” She bumped her shoulder into Robin softly.

“It’s worked before.”

“You’ve done this before?” Nancy imagined Robin sitting on the floor of her messy bedroom. The lights turned off but a small candle flickering next to her. A similar scribbled ouija board pushed against the floor by a small glass that she held against it with both of her pointer and middle fingers.

“No.” Robin admitted. “I’ve heard of people who have done it.”

Nancy couldn’t keep the laugh from bubbling out. She allowed herself to fall flat against the floor.

“Nance.” Robin whined softly. “You need to be on my side.”

“I am on your side, honey. I’ll always be on your side.” Nancy grabbed for Robin’s arm. “You know that, right?”

There was a pout on Robin’s face that conveyed more than it was meant to. The sly quirk of her lips a tell tale sign that Robin was teasing her. Still, Nancy felt that familiar tug at her heartstrings that she got whenever Robin was hurt.

“Do you need my help with anything?” She offered with a sigh, sitting back up.

“If you are offering, I really don’t want to do this alone.” The smile from before returned to Robin’s face.

Nancy groaned. “I was worried you were going to say that.”

“Come on. You like researching stuff. Just see it as another one of your projects.”

“My projects are usually based on facts.” Nancy complained.

“Nance, please.” The pout returned in all its glory.

She hesitated for a second. Unsure what her next move should be. “Will it make you happy?”

Robin nodded frantically. “So very happy.”

–

Nancy found herself sitting opposite her girlfriend. She looked upon the girl’s frown as she placed the glass in the middle of the piece of paper, placing her fingers on the top. She followed Robin’s actions, mimicking her.

“All you have to do is breathe and close your eyes.”

Nancy nodded and closed her eyes.

“Okay.” Robin’s deep breath was audible throughout the silent room. “Chrissy, are you here with us?”

Nothing happened.

“Chrissy, can you hear us?”

Nothing.

“We are here to understand what happened.”

Nothing.

Nancy opened her eyes, looking at her girlfriend. The frown of Robin’s face was etched into her skin. The doubts were creeping into her demeanor and Nancy could see it.

“Chrissy?”

She couldn’t help herself. Nancy pushed the glass towards the yes that Robin had carefully written. Robin’s eyes flew open the second the glass started moving.

“Oh my God, Nance. Are you seeing this?” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Yes, I am.” Nancy feigned shock.

“I told you it was real.” Robin was beaming. “Okay, we have to focus. Chrissy, who killed you?”

Nancy stared at her own hands on the glass, analyzing whether or not it was obvious she was pushing it towards the J. And then the A, S, O, N. Spelling out the name that she had been forced to write on repeat in the plethora of articles she had written about the event.

“Oh my God, Robin. I’m not even kidding, this is scary. Can we please stop?” Nancy tried to trigger her 11 year old self who had scored the lead in the school play. It was the last time she had ever acted.

“Yeah sure. Thank you for talking to us, Chrissy. Goodbye.” Robin said and Nancy pushed the glass toward the goodbye on the bottom of the page.

–

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Robin was turned toward Nancy in her seat. She watched the way Nancy’s fingers tapped the steering wheel.

“What are you talking about?”

“The other day. The ouija board. You were moving the glass, weren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” Nancy frowned.

“You gave yourself away by saying you were scared. Nancy Wheeler doesn’t get scared and definitely not by a moving glass or even a ghost for that matter.”

Nancy dared to take a glance at the girl sitting next to her. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t see you that defeated. I shouldn’t have.”

“I think it’s really sweet. And I’ve been thinking, we should take an actual vacation. Somewhere nice. I’ve never seen the ocean before, if you’re up for it.”

“Are you sure this isn’t another ruse to get me to go ghost hunting with you?”

“Nah, from now on I’ll just ask you to go ghost hunting with me. I have a feeling you won’t say no.”

#prompts #if anyone wants the Chrissy backstory I did think about this #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic

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onekisstotakewithme · 1 year ago

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make of our hearts, one heart pls pls pls -ypq

Short version: BJ and Peg are renewing their vows in 1957 (but it's also partially a front for the triad to 'get married').

Long version: This is the culmination of the first mini arc (can you call it a mini arc when it's going to be like 300k all-told?) in my post-canon verse that starts with 'ye who are weary'; BJ and Peg and Hawkeye finally get to get married, and this is, of course, followed by a honeymoon which means... wedding night sex 🌈🌟 this is perhaps the most egregious of my drafts in that a whole draft exists. I just hella burned out writing the charles/donna wedding and then jumping into this, and it's also 125k. so. there's that. SOMEDAY I'll remember how to edit it 😒 but in the meantime it makes a fun addition to my WIP lists.

And I'm adding a snippet under the cut because of course 💜 thank you for enabling me to ramble about this fucker (affectionate)

“It’s alright, darling, we don’t think you’re any more of a pervert than we already did,” she says, offering him a warm smile that does more to fluster him than the heat of the sauna.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that,” he teases back.

“Did you know?” she asks, propping herself up on one elbow as she looks at him. “When you were sitting in the sauna with those boys – did you know you liked men then?”

“I knew,” Hawkeye says, and grins. “I knew from the time I was about… eleven, maybe?”

“I was sixteen, I think…” Peg says, before frowning like she’s thinking it over. “Or fifteen, maybe.”

“What about you, Beej?”

“Who, me?” BJ puts on his best wide-eyed look. “I didn’t have a damn clue until college – and even then, took me a while to figure out that I didn’t necessarily have to choose a side.”

“And now you’ll never have to choose again,” Peg says with a laugh.

“Right,” Hawkeye agrees, not sure why there’s a sense of unease hanging about him, even as he laughs with Peg. “You’ve got a matched set – one of each.”

BJ grins too. “I’m not complaining.”

“It’s like salt and pepper shakers. Peanut butter and jelly. You can’t have one without the other.”

“I’m a lucky man,” BJ agrees.

“Me too.”

And then, Hawkeye gets why he’s uneasy, and he sees the same thought hit BJ, both of them turning to look at Peg – who is just like they are, only…

“Peg, honey…”

“Oh no,” Peg says, looking between them. “Just when I was starting to feel relaxed… why are you two wearing your ‘bad news’ faces?”

“Because uh… we both get a matched set, but you don’t.”

“I got two for the price of one,” she says, trying to make a joke out of it. “Why should I complain?”

“But Peg…”

“Peg, listen, I know last night we said that it would be the three of us, that we’d be exclusive… but…”

“But what?” Peg asks, looking between them, and BJ nods to Hawkeye.

“But if you want to go out and find a lady, we won’t mind.”

Peg looks flabbergasted, and then hurt. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“Well, just… Beej and I both get to have it both ways, so to speak. We get each other, and we get you. The matching set.”

“So?”

“So, if you want the same opportunity-.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Peg asks, her eyes on fire as she sits up, flushed with anger more than heat. “That I’ll suddenly have changed my mind about being faithful to my husband just because I added another?”

“Peg, no, that’s not what we’re saying.”

Peg seems a little calmer now, although her eyes are still ablaze. “Then what?”

“We just wondered if you might miss sleeping with women,” Hawkeye says, trying to keep his tone nonthreatening. “I mean, you seemed to have pretty fond memories of that girlfriend of yours…”

Peg looks between the two of them, but she doesn’t seem angry anymore. In fact, glancing between the two of them, she bursts out laughing.

Hawkeye isn’t expecting this and flinches back from the loud noise, BJ raising an eyebrow as Peg cackles so hard she nearly slides off the bench of the sauna, her skin slick with sweat.

“Get over here, you idiots,” she says.

“Peg…”

“She’s cracked,” Hawkeye says, shaking his head a little fondly, but they do slide along the bench so that they’re sitting together, one on either side of Peg.

She rights herself, wiping at the corners of her eyes.

“You idiots,” she says fondly, looking between them. “I don’t want anything else – and I certainly don’t want to put our life in danger just because I missed my calling as a cunning linguist.”

“Peg-.”

“No, listen to me. Who the hell would we even ask for that? Who could we trust? Because pick the wrong person and you know it could come back to bite us in the ass – the instant some poor woman gets caught in a raid and gets told to name ten of her friends or hang, who do you think she’ll think of first?”

“I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

“It wouldn’t be worth it, just for me to get my rocks off. I can do that perfectly well on my own – or with your help.”

“We just thought…”

“I know, darling, and I do appreciate you thinking of me.” She looks dangerously close to bursting into laughter again, but manages to contain it. “But you said last night that you didn’t want anyone else. And I feel the same. Sure, sleeping with a woman would be nice, but I don’t necessarily want that. I just want the two of you.”

“Well,” Hawkeye says, squeezing her knee, and giving her a leer. “You’ll be pleased to know that we want you too.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” she says, and Hawkeye, despite the heat, leans in to kiss her, tasting the salt of her sweat on her lips, and the sweet taste of her mouth, the smell of steamed wood and hot coals in his nose.

#most smut i've ever written in one story but we ain't talkin about that part #everyone is in love (and horny) and everything is beautiful #m*a*s*h #bj x peg x hawkeye #punnihawk #things this story contains in no particular order:#peg enjoying sci fi pulps. pegging. orange groves. and motorcycles

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mymelodyisme · 2 years ago

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OMG but Mys tells Shane about all the magical stuff she’s been getting into and he’s like-

“You’re fuckin with me, Dotty,” he scoffed, “you’re really trying to convince me you can use magic?”

Mys pressed her hands to her hips and pouted, “well, yeah! I can do a few things now. It’s been really helpful when I go mining.”

“Right…”

Shane didn’t believe her. He’d been living in the valley his entire life and had never once witnessed the existence of magic.

Mys began pulling at the hood strings of his jacket, she was somewhat giddy.

“Lately Razzy’s been teaching me how to make potions from the earth’s natural resources. I can bring you a few and we can play around with them! I’ve got one that can turn your skin blue for a few minutes-“

“Got a love potion in that mix?” Shane asked with a snarky grin.

He didn’t know why he had chosen to name a love potion of all things, but in that moment it made the most sense. It was one of the more famous potions in the world, maybe Mys could actually have one.

She pulled away abruptly and looked into his deep green eyes, she was stern and very serious.

“I do. But I can’t let you try it otherwise you’ll fall madly in love with the first person you see, and… well… you know how that goes.”

If he took it then and there, he would see her.

Would that really be so bad?

Shane started looking around as if listening closely to their surroundings.

He leaned in close, “Gummy, did your voice change? Cause… you’re suddenly sounding like… a whole ass chicken,” he began to bawk at her mockingly.

Mys immediately turned red. She clearly was not enjoying being mocked. She huffed and looked towards her bedroom.

“Fine! Fine I’ll go get it.”

She left the room, the sounds of opening chests and clinking glasses could be heard shortly thereafter.

“Where did I put it?,” she growled in frustration.

Shane smiled to himself. Mys was the most disorganized organized person he ever met. He thought it was cute.

She suddenly came running back in holding a small pink heart shaped bottle.

“That’s very on brand for you, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

Mys froze, her face softening as if she hadn’t just been on a rampage, “say that again.”

He loved it when she did that.

“My sweetheart is so demanding,” he tilted her face up at him.

“I am very much so,” she lifted the body between them, “Now, does this prove anything to you?”

He takes the bottle out of her hands and looks it over, “nah I think I have to test it.”

Her eyes went wide, “oh honey, that’s a bad idea give it back.”

“Make me,” he grinned popping off the top.

“Shane!” Mys swatted at him trying to take the small bottle back, but Shane held it higher over her head.

“You’re so damn short, Mys.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you!”

“A head’s still a fuckin head.”

Shane watched her struggle with delight written all over his face. She could’ve easily gotten it by now, but she was so focused on the fact that he had what she didn’t want him to have, that she didn’t remember she could easily bend him to her tiny pink will.

He was so amused by her behavior that he didn’t notice her hand swatting the bottle right over him.

Mys gasped. He was drenched.,

Some type of liquid dripped down from his head to his shoulders.

“Shit!” Mys quickly covered her mouth. She didn’t usually swear. Shane blushed.

But that’s not all that he did.

He stood there quite shocked for a minute. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling. Maybe he had been right and Mys was duped by the wizard. Or maybe she…

Oh god.

Just as he began to have doubts he noticed a strong familiar scent surrounding him.

It was her.

Or rather whatever had spilled on him smelled exactly like her.

Shane shut his eyes. It was somewhat overwhelming. It felt like she was all over him. His mind went to the gutter.

“Oh Shane, that was stupid of me,I’m so sorry,” Mys’s voice popped into his ears, “let me help you get cleaned up.”

She grabbed his hand and led him down to the couch.

Maybe it was the intoxicating scent, or the fact that she may have been right, but Shane felt his hand clam up in hers. He was beginning to grow nervous.

Why was he getting so nervous? She was just his best friend?

Right?

Mys sat him down and started wiping his head with her handkerchief. Her face twisted. The smell overwhelming her too, but Shane didn’t notice this. Mys was, perhaps, a little too close to him. He resisted the urge to grab her waist.

“You okay, handsome?”

Their eyes met. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. For the first time in his entire life. Shane found himself fully unable to grasp his feelings. Actually, that was a lie. He often found he didn’t know how to feel when he was with Mys.

He began to think, that maybe, the potion wasn’t a potion at all. Perhaps, it was just a ruse, it likely was just her perfume.

So Shane began to consider that possibly…

Maybe…

He kind of liked her.

“Shane, are you mad at me?”

Her voice brought him back into the situation. Even as he was drowning, she was right there in his ear.

In his face.

He grabbed her face suddenly. Mys squealed. Shane held her there so close, as if examining her.

He was trying to find an answer, he already had but just couldn’t access no matter how many epiphanies he could squeeze out of himself.

“You okay there, lemon drop?,” she asked with a nervous laugh, “you’re getting kind of close.”

“Mys.”

His eyes were glowing, she was never more confused. Scared even. Not of him. But for him. She wanted Shane. She knew she needed to keep him in her life. But she was never going to force him to be who she wanted him to be.

That’s why-

“I think I…” he began to lean in.

She put a stop to that instantly.

She pressed her hand to his mouth. A deep sadness taking over her for a moment.

“That wasn’t a love potion,” she admitted quickly.

Silence.

“And I’m not going to take advantage of you Shane. Ever.”

Shane stared at her, his eyes were now equally sad, Mys thought that maybe he was upset with her for being so cruel and allowing him to actually think he had fallen in love with her. It was also cruel to hope that he might.

“I really am sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to make things weird. Are we still friends?”

She removed her hand from his lips. Oh, if Shane had the guts he’d have kissed her anyways. He would have kissed her so. Many. Times.

But he couldn’t bring himself to explore that urge.

He wanted to.

He should have.

But he couldn’t.

And yet-

“I love you.”

The words slipped out so quickly, so naturally, Shane hadn’t register they were his words until Mys had reacted.

“What?”

Shane had just said he loved her. Did he really mean that?

“I…,” he quickly began to correct his loss of tongue, “I mean… you’re my best friend, Mys. And I love you, because of that.”

Ouch. That pressed on her heart. Everything was as it always would be, as it had always been, and as it shall continue to be.

“And I… love you.”

She meant it. She had always meant it.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up, please. You smell like me and it’s giving me a headache.”

Shane pulled her onto his lap and grinned, “oh you don’t like it? What if I do this?”

Shane rubbed his wet hair into her neck. She began to laugh, to scream, and tried to break herself free.

“NO! SHANE!”

He laughed, and pulled himself back, “fine I’ll take a bath, but you have to be there with me.”

“You, sir, are getting far too comfortable with my being there when you’re nude.”

“You know that you’re curious.”

“Save it for our honeymoon, handsome.”

Shane’s eyes sparkled. Just the idea of marrying her made his head spin, he wasn’t used to that. He didn’t understand it. He blushed.

“I’m just joking,” she said as she cupped his face.

“Yeah… I figured.”

#shane stardew valley #sdv shane #stardew shane #😭 my head hurts I’m sorry if this one came out way worse than the others #myshane♥️#if you see any spelling mistakes or grammar errors no u didn’t #LOL I DIDMT REALIZE HOW LONG IT EAS I SHOULD HABE NIST POSTED OT TO AP3 #SCREAMINF

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typewriter83 · 8 months ago

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I feel like of all adults, frank is gonna be ellie's best confident, someone who she will see as her friend. I'm not saying the others aren't but.. well, let's see: we all know that, as much as they talk about things, joel and ellie aren't exactly friends. He doesn't count. There's tommy and maria, but they're behaving too much like mom and dad towards ellie, and most of the time kinds don't tell parents (or any adult with extreme authority) all the things. Bill... He and ellie have their bond, but more like cat and dog (bill as an old grumpy cat and ellie as a new puppy). So there's frank, who seems to understand her a lot: he makes her comfortable talking about some feelings by now, ask things or opinions of hers without judgment, and he seems like a very understanding and wise adult. (Have you ever watched matilda? Teacher Honey was seen that way by the kids she spent time with, she was like those kids' best adult/friend). I feel like that towards frank and his relationship with ellie by now, and the fact he doesn't like the idea of ellie spending time with the preacher of town because he also just has a intuition that this guy is not trustworthy towards young girls, such a mother's instinct right there lmao (maria should learn from him cof cof)

So like, I feel like frank will be the first adult to know about ellie's relationship, about her feelings someday. I'm just feeling it.

Frank is such a kind soul, like Miss Honey, you’re right. He doesn’t judge, doesn’t preach, doesn’t even really offer advice - simply lets the people he cares about exist in his safe space. To Ellie, Frank is kind of like her in a sense that he cares for and loves people for who they are as people, not because of their sexuality. In this universe, Frank loves Bill because he’s Bill, not necessarily because he’s a man, and Ellie can relate to that.

So yeah, you pretty much hit the nail on the head:

Joel is Joel to her, she needs him like a partner, a protector.

Tommy and Maria have leaned a little too far into the overprotective, authoritative mom and dad figures and while they believe they have her best interest at heart, they’re complicating things.

Her peers are her peers but they’re going to play an important role coming soon.

Bill is like that teacher that knows his student is smart as a whip, but refuses to let her be a know-it-all because she has so much to learn, so he throws knowledge at her and it pains her to admit she wants to learn from him.

Remember, Joel alludes to Bill and Frank having a semi-illegal side hustle with Ellie’s friends, lol, so they’re like the cool old guys that live at the edge of town, grow weed and know everything - so Frank knowing David isn’t who Maria thinks he is - that’s important. 😉

Thanks for reading!

🫶🏻

#writing #creative writing #mama bear speaks #the last of us #tlou #fanfiction #ask away!#joellie #ellie x joel #joel x ellie

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slavetomistresscalia · 2 years ago

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He Just Wanted To Lose Weight

Another amazing story penned by a good friend and fellow devotee of Mistress Calia

He just wanted to lose weight … Andy was in a state; a very emotional one. Medication had caused him to put on weight and no matter what he did, he was having problems losing it. He knew the extra weight was bad for his health and he was getting really peed off about people making assumptions about his lifestyle based on his weight. He needed help. He needed some form of self-help that would give him the and motivation to retrain his body to eat more healthy options.

Andy thought about discussing this issue with his best friend Jim. Jim seemed to have his life sorted out having changed his life around big time from being a dreamer who smoked, drank and ate all the wrong things to being a non-smoking clean-eating healthy person. Andy had often wondered what had caused this turnaround, yet knew enough not to ask Jim directly, Still, perhaps whatever had helped Jim might help him too. It was worth asking the question - right?

When they next met, Andy explained his issue with weight to Jim. He asked Jim if he knew of anyone or anything that might help him in this situation. Jim sat in thought for a while, then suggested that maybe Andy should consider hypnosis, after all, private hypnosis clinics existed and often their work was about helping people to lose weight or stop smoking. Andy was skeptical of this idea - “there are a lot of charlatans out there who really don’t know what they are doing” he said “I’m not about to allow any of them into my head”. It took Jim all of 30 seconds of consideration before he asked Andy if he would trust his judgement and allow him to find someone who was trustworthy and who would help him. “What’s more,” Jim said, “it will be an mp3 file that you can keep listening to so it’s a one off cost, not a weekly appointment with a high fee”. Andy thought this was a good idea so he agreed that Jim could approach his contact with the idea and see if it was something that they would consider doing. Andy left thinking that just maybe Jim’s suggestion was the answer to his dilemma.

A week later, Jim handed Andy a USB stick and told him that the file was on it. When Andy asked what he owed him, Jim said he had paid for it as a gift for Andy. “A word of warning though,” said Jim, “if it’s like any of the other files you might want to make sure you are on your own and unlikely to be disturbed the first time you listen to it” and with that, Jim left.

Following his friend’s advice, Andy waited until he was on his own and unlikely to be disturbed, loaded the file from the USB to his mp3 player, put his earbuds in, lay back, closed his eyes and relaxed as he hit play.. “Hi there, I hear that you need to lose weight and I have been asked to help you. It’s very important to look after yourself for all sorts of reasons, isn’t it? Sometimes it is because of health reasons, yet most often it is because you want to impress someone. The strongest motive is because someone you admire wants you to lose some weight and be healthier; giving you that extra motivation you need to be successful. I know we just met, yet why don’t we start with the premise that you want to do this for me? You want to please me and so you will work at losing weight and improving your overall health because it will make me happy to know that you have done this for me. It seemed to make sense and pretty soon he was listening to Her Divine voice as Her words slipped easily past his defenses.

Now then, let’s start with relaxing you, taking in a long deep breath. Don’t worry about holding it, just take in a deep breath and then let it all out. Keep doing this whilst you listen to my voice, letting my words flow over you like honey, covering you in relaxation and making you feel sleepy……..

Now as wonderful and pleasurable this time has been, the waking world awaits you. When you wake from this trance you will not remember anything that has been said. Your subconscious mind will remember and act on my instructions. At this point you can either play the file again or you can allow me to count you up to being awake… are you ready? I’ll count you up with a count of 5 to 1 … 5 feeling blissful, 4 beginning to awake, eyes opening 3 moving your body, becoming aware of your surroundings, 2 your brain wakes from trance and 1 wide awake, ready and willing to take the steps you need to take… so I hope you found this file helpful. It works best when listened to just before you fall asleep at night, I hope we can do this again soon”

A week later Andy and Jim met up. Jim was wondering how his friend had found the file but he needn't have worried as Andy’s first words were “ Jim, thanks so very much for that file. I’ve never felt so good and so happy or motivated, does Mistress Calia have any other files I can listen to? Her voice, oh I could listen to it forever …” Jim laughed. “Yes, actually, She does. I’ll send you the link to them later but you will need to sign up to a monthly subscription, are you OK with that? “To hear that Voice regularly?" "Of course I am” replied Andy. And that, dear reader, is how Andy joined his friend Jim as a slave of Mistress Calia. Truly, it has been said “Be careful what you wish for” because, really, Andy thought he just wanted to lose weight…

#hypnosis #goddess #mistresscalia #brainwash #mind control #patreon

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stephenjaymorrisblog · 2 years ago

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We Are All Time Travelers

Stephen Jay Morris

2/19/2023

When I look back, I am bemused and amused about all of the societal fads I’ve witnessed, and even participated in. I refer to those that range from “The Twist” dance fad in 1962, to “Disco” in the late 70s. Oh, let’s not forget “Glam Metal” of the 80s.

So, what about now? At the age of 68 going on 69, what do I think? How do I feel? I don’t want to use a Coprophiliac, contemporary slang term, but so far, 2023 has been a real shit show! Never mind Los Angeles Lakers’ power forward, LeBron James, recently breaking Kareem Abdul Jamar's all-time shooting record, and a bacteria-fighting vaccine on the horizon to help the nation’s honey bees. Oh, no! The focus, instead, is on how many people got shot today, or who was the latest victim of police abuse.

And then, there’s my favorite shit show: the conservative movement. The so-called Liberal news media is giving this full coverage. Wait! Wait! What?? If they are on the so-called Left, why would they do that? Because, as the old saying goes, “If it bleeds, it leads!” Translation: People love negative news AND it brings in money. Lots of it. However, this is not my topic today.

I write about “The Space-Time Continuum,” as prescribed by Dr. Albert Einstein. We live in a three-dimensional existence, however, time is part of the 4th dimension. Is there a 5th dimension? Maybe. The Folk Rock band, the Byrds, had a song called, “5th Dimension,” in 1966, and there was a singing group in the 60s called, “The 5th Dimension.”

So, what is the 5th dimension anyway? Don’t really know; go ask the late OsKar Klein. Uh, don’t do that; he’s dead. Maybe he wrote something about it. Maybe it has something to do with the Einstein’s equation, E=MC2. I always thought that the 5th dimension was a place you go to, such as when you take a hallucinogenic like LSD. But, I am not talking about that today, either.

We are all time travelers, from birth to death. We are fixed in a particular time and place. Hundreds of years from now, people will wonder what it was like living during your time. Plus, there is the ultimate question: “Why?” That’s when metaphysics comes into play. Alternatively, there is religion, which says simply that you exist to serve God. Then there is the Greek philosophy of solipsism, which means, only you exist and everybody else is an illusion. If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, there is always Existentialism, which adherents conclude that “Life has no meaning and you are here merely by happenstance.” As an Agnostic, I just don’t know what is true and what isn’t true. Agnosticism is the zenith of objectivity. That’s my take.

So, what about this time travel stuff?

Can you revisit the past? Yes, you can—through hypnosis. It has been proven that one can go back in time through hypnosis. You mind is like a tape machine that never shuts off. Everything that you ever experienced is stored in your memory. Unfortunately, some people lose their memory because of diseases like Alzheimer's. That is one reason I got into the habit of writing down my past on paper; in case I develop an elderly disease like dementia.

How about venturing into the future? Maybe. It could be true that time travel has already been invented. For example, in 3023 AD, invisibility may have been created, so that right now, invisible time travelers from the future are staring at you while you sit on the toilet. Don’t be dismissive about my theories. People have reported seeing ghosts in their homes. Maybe what they saw were time travelers.

I highly doubt that I will be remembered in the future. If not, I won’t care. Not only will I be dead, but so will my ego. I would like to time travel to witness my family tree, but I am afraid to. I know that my ancestors were idiotic peasants. According to my dad, my great, great grandfather, Semore Moicheck, was a butcher in Russia who was killed by a bull while he was trying to slaughter it. So, why would I want to encounter my loser family from the past?

I am not happy living in these times. I know that the world is getting better and better, such as with the advent of technological advances and medical science breakthroughs. But—with the morons who are dragging it down with their religious and political idiocy, it’s so fucking pathetic that it makes me sick! I am convinced that there is no “good vs. evil.” It’s really about the sane vs. the insane, and the intelligent vs. the dumb.

On second thought, I prefer to be alive in the present, as opposed to the future or the past. By not seeing the future, I won’t ruin the element of surprise. And, by not experiencing the past, I will save myself from shame. I do wish, though, that I could send the present day idiots back to the Stone Age, where they belong!

So, as for me and time travel? I am happy being right where I am.

#stephenjaymorris #poets on tumblr #science fiction #time travel #high fantasy #timothy leary

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d3athm3tal · 2 years ago

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Now that the 22nd has past, I will no longer post about you. I’m not sure if you’ll read these, I’m not sure if you can remember your old password yet or if you’ll remember my username to check up on this from time to time, because you know I write on here. I’ve always wrote on here. And you’d always read it. I’d stay up til 4am back in 2019 perfecting everything I was writing in the hopes you’d see how crazy I was about you, how carefully I picked each word to resonate how I felt about you. This was us. Our thing. You and I, beating around the bush, writing notes and leaving hints. You have been in every line I have ever wrote. But I can’t do it anymore honey. I always said we could do 1% and 99% but right now I don’t feel you can give me any so I know it’s time. I know it’s time to put 100% into something else, into healing and growing, picking out clothes for my own, figuring out my own style and my own routine. 9:15pm can’t be the time you finish work, it just needs to be 9:15pm. And 22:22pm can pass every day and I need to not think of falling deep into you as my feet sunk deep into the sand on that beach. I need to understand and comprehend how I could love someone so truly, openly, deeply, honestly and raw and still get hurt the way you hurt me. I need to get over feeling like I am not enough because you betrayed me, I need to not think of that every night before I try to sleep. So I can’t post about you anymore. Because I can’t keep going over the same things, it’s becoming insanity. So this is it. There are no more excuses. I’m not sure when I’ll collect my stuff, it feels like your stuff now anyway so I’m not too fussed about grabbing a bag of things that will have your scent wrapped in them. Keep them if you’d like, though I don’t think you’d like. The gaps are filled for you now. Everything’s in place. You have great friends and the gaps in your walls have been replaced with new memories and there isn’t a sign of me in that room. Our room. You would think I’d never been in it. It’s your room again, because once again I felt nervous sitting in it as if it were the beginning except it was more like the end. Full circle. I drove to cairn grove on Wednesday. Full year. Last year we were celebrating an anniversary, and picking out cutlery and this year I don’t know what colour your nails are or if you’re happy. I need to say goodbye and I can’t do it any other way than hope that there’s still that same part of you that always looked for me. And if there is then you’ll have found your way here and you’ll be reading this, then maybe things aren’t as bad I thought. But none the less it’s time to go. I’ll love you and leave you, I will only leave you once but I will love you every day. I’ll fill my gaps. I won’t post but I won’t stop writing, you’ll exist in my words. Goodbye bup, and for the last time I love you.

24.02.23.

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rickybaby · 2 years ago

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Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, you are the World Champion!

In which Daniel wins the Championship.

Warning: Pure, utterly complete delusion.

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February 2026, Bahrain

“Well, hello everyone. Cars, on track, for the first time this year! How good is that?!”

“So much to cover this afternoon” Ted Kravitz led his cameraman down the paddock as he fished his notes out of his pocket. “Right then, let’s start off with the talk of the paddock - the new Audi-Sauber team and their surprising new driver line-up!”

“It’s a bit of an interesting one, isn’t it? Daniel Ricciardo and Theo Pourchaire! Yep, the Honey Badger is back in F1 after three years out. Are we surprised that Audi went for Danny Ric? I mean it’s an easy choice if you’re looking for experience. Yes, his last season with McLaren had not been great, but I think he’s more than proved himself in the years away since then, hasn’t he?”

“He’s won Le Mans in 2023 and then went on to win the Indy500 just last year. And you know what that makes him? The only second driver to have ever won the triple crown of motorsport!” Ted stopped just outside the new Audi motor home. “Also he didn’t do too badly today as well.”

“He finished P6 on the timesheets, with his former teammate Max Verstappen in P1, followed by the merc boys - George and Lewis, Yuki Tsunoda in that second Red Bull and Charles Leclerc in his Ferrari. It’s not looking too bad for the Australian, is it? He may just be the one to look out for this season!”

“Now Pete, the Ferraris!” He gestured for his cameraman to follow him as he continued to move down the paddock “those were some interesting side pods we saw on the car …”

-l l-

Up in his driver’s room, Daniel Ricciardo felt as if his neck was about to snap into two. It was always painful to get back into the car after the winter break and even more so now, when he’d been out of the car for three years, but damn if he could stop himself from smiling.

“How was it out there today?” Michael asked as he applied the kinesio tape on Dan’s neck. “Good” he said, and just like in his interviews from earlier, he had to stop himself from gushing, had to be conservatively optimistic for fear of jinxing himself. Truth be told, he felt almost jubilant. Because this morning, when he’d sat in the car and drifted out of the garage, he’d felt that click with the car. The click he hadn’t felt since he’d left Red Bull. He might get criticised for this, but Daniel had never been the type of driver who’d get too technical. His driving style had always been more instinctive. He had to have that particular feeling in the car, that certainty that the car would do exactly what he expected it to do when he was throwing it around a corner at 300 kilometres per hour. He wasn’t naïve, he knew there were still kinks to work out, but he knew the pace was there because they’d been massively sandbagging this morning. He almost had to stop himself from declaring he was here to win the championship because he knew they might laugh him out of the paddock. But these people didn’t know the new Daniel, most still remembered the broken man that McLaren had left for dead.

For his sanity’s sake, Daniel rarely thought back to the season he lost his seat. It had happened to his teammates before but he’d never thought it would ever happen to him. Even after McLaren had essentially fired him, he’d still had hope he could turn his career around. He’d only lost hope when he had found out that Pierre got the Alpine seat while he was still in Australia before the Singaporean Grand Prix. From that moment on, he’d known his prospects for 2023 were pretty much non-existent, but still he’d flown to Singapore, did his media duties, played his usual happy-go-lucky guy role to perfection and all the while, he had been dying inside. And then he got P5 in that race, his best finish that season. He had people congratulating him and through it all, all he could think about was how far he had fallen. He used to be on the top step and now people were patting him on the shoulder for fucking P5.

That night, he’d gone back to his hotel room and looked at himself in the mirror, really looked at himself and he hadn’t recognised the man who’d looked back at him. He still loved the sport but he couldn’t see the Daniel who was passionate about racing, whether he came in first or last. He could only see a man who had been so concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other everyday for so long that he hadn’t realised he had reached the end of the road. He’d picked up the phone and dialled his mom even though he knew it was an ungodly hour in Australia. His mom had picked up on the first ring and she’d softly said his name. That string that had been holding him back finally snapped, and he’d cried, big gulping sobs, snot mixing with his hot tears. When he’d finally calmed down, his mom had quietly told him you know what you have to do. The next morning, he’d told Blake and Michael about his decision.

For the rest of the season, everyone and their mother had gone on and on about what a terrible decision he was making, that they couldn’t understand why he would take a step back. He hadn’t needed people to tell him the risk he was taking, he’d been well-aware of the odds of him ever making his way back on the grid. But he’d reached a point where he couldn’t go on, it had been more important for him to salvage whatever dignity he had left and leave before he started hating the sport. Sometimes, it took a lot more of bravery to accept defeat. So he’d left. He’d taken the time to find his smile again and then block by block, he’d slowly started to rebuild himself into a better, improved Daniel. And this Daniel was here to win.

-l l-

May 2026, Monaco

“Hello and welcome to the qualifying round of the 2026 Monaco Grand Prix. Join us as we watch the 20 drivers fight it out for pole position here. Martin, we all know how important qualifying is here. Who is your favourite for pole position here today?”

“Yes, Crofty. Qualifying in Monaco is always a special one. It really tests all the skills you need as an F1 driver. It should be an interesting fight for pole today. We can expect Max, Lewis and Charles to be bringing a good fight, but I believe we may be in for a surprising result in Daniel Ricciardo. He’s been on pole twice here before and with the season he’s been having since his comeback, I don’t think we can discount him from the fight.”

“Ah yes, Daniel Ricciardo. What a mega comeback it has been. He was in the top 5 in Bahrain and Saudi, and then he went on to win his home race! What an incredible weekend that was! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a crowd cheer so loud as he was making his way round that last corner at Albert Park before he took the chequered flag.”

“Definitely, his performances have been incredible. He did well in China and Baku as well, placing second in both of these races”

“If he continues with performances like that, I think he’ll have to lay off the shoey a bit. Surely, it wouldn’t be too good for his health if he does back-to-backs!”

Daniel knew these streets like the back of his hand. He could drive this track with his eyes closed. So far, he’d been P3 in both Q1 and Q2. There was 3 minutes left on the clock and he had to make this lap count. As he reached the end of his outlap, he briefly closed his eye, took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. He let his instincts take over. He almost felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, hovering over the car, watching as he hit the apex, anticipating where the racing line was even before he was taking that exit. He didn’t even need confirmation from his engineer to know pole was his. And the next day, as he took the chequered flag, he couldn’t help thinking that winning Monaco was even sweeter the second time around.

-l l-

September 2026, Monza

“Mate, zucchini on pizza sounds awful”

“Don’t diss it until you’ve tried it, Russell George” Daniel laughed, as they made their way to the truck for the driver’s parade. Daniel couldn’t really tell how his friendship with George had come about. They were vastly different people, but they’d always shared a mutual respect and then George had been one of the few people who had not hesitated to outwardly support him during that last year. And for that, Daniel would always be grateful. He got on the truck, fist-bumping all of the drivers. The Italian sun was shining and just like in 2021, he was starting in P2 just behind Max. Daniel was desperate to pull off the same start as he had the last time around. He badly wanted to win here again. His last Monza win would always be associated with McLaren and he wanted a Monza win that he could call just his.

Later on, as he stood on the highest step of the podium, head tipped back as Max poured the bottle of champagne over him, Daniel felt vindicated. Last time around, he’d cried on the podium, out of relief, out of happiness that he could give that win to his team. This time around, he felt like roaring, felt like banging on his chest. This more than anything felt like a big fuck you to McLaren. In the five years since that last victory, since McLaren had kicked him out, he’d won two of the most prestigious motor races in the world, had clawed his way back to F1, had won another six Grand Prix, had been on 10 podiums so far, while McLaren was still chasing that illusive next victory. He was still McLaren’s last winner. He sat down and unlaced his boots. He’d had his redemption, now it was time for his vindication.

-l l-

November 2026, Abu Dhabi

“Radio check, Daniel”

“Loud and clear”

“30s to the formation lap”

“25s…”

“10s …”

The tire blankets were removed, the car was lowered on its jack. His head mechanic gave him a slight nod. Good to go.

Daniel lowered the lid on his helmet, flexed his hand on the steering wheel. This was it. All or nothing. Last night, he’d been beating himself up for missing out on pole and for qualifying P3. Then this afternoon, as he walked into the paddock, Martin fucking Brundle had pushed his microphone into his face and had the gall to go on about how surprising it was that Daniel was even a name in the championship fight, how no one had expected that he would only be four points behind Max in the lead going into the final race. Daniel had wanted to snap that he had, that he’d come into this season with the full belief that he could win, but he’d put on his usual smile and gave his usual asinine answer.

That more than anything had fired him up. All throughout his career, people had always underestimated him, thinking he was no more than the joker he liked to play. He let that need to prove people wrong fuel him. He thought back to his win over Valterri in Silverstone during their junior years. He wasn’t meant to win that race, but then he had. It had been the same in China in 2018. Most of his wins had been outside of pole. The championship was still his to lose before it was even Max’s to win. He was Daniel Ricciardo, he could make the unexpected happen.

5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … breathe … 1 … lights out. It was time to go hunting.

“Good job, mate. You got Leclerc on the start. Up to P2. 54 laps to go. All to play for.”

Max wasn’t the kind of driver who would easily give in to mind games on track , but Daniel knew the only way he could win this was to force Max into making a mistake. For him, that was the fun in hunting - lulling your prey into complacency, slowly drawing blood before pouncing for the kill.

So, he waited. Lap after lap, he held on to Max, staying in his slipstream. They both built a gap to the rest of the grid, had their pitstops and yet Daniel did not make a move. His engineer kept feeding him information about tyre temperature, Max’s lap times and through all of it, he kept his eyes fixed to the back of Max’s car. Five laps to go. It was time to add a bit of pressure. He closed the gap to the car in front, his front tyres nearly kissing the rear of Max’s car. He stayed glued to Max’s gearbox as they went into the next turn. From then on, it was a game of cat and mouse. Daniel dove down the inside of Max, but Max firmly closed the door. Daniel weaved back and forth, never letting max forget of the danger he posed. He dove and recoiled. Daniel once again dove down the inside going into the next chicane, coming out of the exit side by side with Max. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to make the move stick because Max had the racing line on that one, but he could feel Max’s nervousness. He had started driving more defensively, going over a couple meters of track he didn’t need to to fend Daniel off. Daniel could smell the blood in the water. Two laps to go. It was time to make his move. He did the classic switcheroo, diving down the inside before switching back, making the move stick by outbraking Max at the last second. They exited the corner with Max trying to come back at him, but Daniel kept a steady grip on the racing line, gradually pulling away.

Daniel knew the battle wasn’t over. Anything could happen in the last few corners. He tried to keep his heart rate down, kept his focus on the last lap ahead. Keep it together, don’t get cocky, he repeated to himself.

“Okay, Daniel. Last corner, last corner. Verstappen is 0.4s behind you. You’re going to make it, Daniel. We just need to keep it together. This is it, Daniel. This is it.”

“What a brilliant battle we’ve seen these last two laps. Max Verstappen has defended his first position valiantly, but there was no stopping this man, Daniel Ricciardo. And just like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the honey badger has come back to win his first world championship as he takes the checkered flag under the lights here in Abu Dhabi! He becomes the second driver only in history to have won the triple crown of motorsport and a Formula One championship! What an incredible achievement!”

Daniel could hear his team go wild over the radio as he crossed the finish line. His heart felt like it could burst from his chest at any moment, it was beating so furiously. The fireworks overhead blurred and sparkled through his tears and sweat running down his face. He’d spent so long chasing this dream, sacrificed so much to get to this moment that now that it was within his grasp, he couldn’t quite believe it. For the first time in his life, Daniel Ricciardo was speechless.

“Thanks boys. Thank you” Daniel’s voice cracked with emotion. He wasn’t even embarrassed that he was openly crying. He had fought too long for this, he deserved it. “Thanks for believing in me. I knew we could do it. We deserve it!”

He parked his car in parc fermé. Knees weak, he clambered up onto the halo and as a million flashbulbs went off, he beat on his chest. The honey badger was finally victorious.

Then, it was a blur of celebratory hugs and pats from his team, from the other drivers. Through it all, he remembered seeing his mom’s tear-stained face, his dad’s proud smile. On the podium, the Australian flag draped over his shoulders, head thrown back as he tried to stop himself from crying once again. Fucking hell, he’d done it. Then he was handed his trophy. He placed a soft kiss at her base, then he was lifting her up as the lights bounced off the silver.

Much later, Daniel walked into his driver’s room, still in a daze, shoeless, race suit drenched in sweat, tears and champagne. He looked at himself in the tiny mirror on his wall. The urge to both laugh and cry bubbled up inside of him. It was going to take sometime for it to really sink in for him. He dragged his hands over his face and up into his curls. Guess he could really say he never left this time around.

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