#mumbles something racist about humans and their short short lives

[nefariouslycrafted-archive]

cairis-in-the-field replied to your post “shadowtongued replied to your post “Whenever I feel down the...”

Safe to say the Beach Boys would be the only Humans she'd keep alive?

    “ Cairis it’s 2184 on Earth. They’re already dead. ”

[takerfoxx]

Jurassic Park 4: Doki Idol Live Festival!

magic5ball submitted:

Remember how you asked me about my idea for a Jurassic Park sequel? Well, here you go:

The two velociraptors stood outside a pastel colored town house in Hokkaido prefecture, Japan. If any passerbys thought that was weird, they certainly didn’t show it. Probably because the raptors were wearing fedoras and fake mustaches, so they looked like humans. Also they had guns. Very cool, very intimidating mobster guns. A tommy gun and a sawed-off shotgun, respectively.

You needed guns, to survive Shinzo Abe’s little empire of vice and socialized medical care.

“So this is the place, huh?” muttered the velociraptor carrying the sawed-off shotgun. His thick Brooklyn accent hung in the air like concrete. “Kinda… frillier than I was expecting.”

“It better be.” Replied his companion, who sounded like your racist conservative uncle trying to impersonate that one cool guy from ‘The Godfather’ (You know, the one with the mustache who was played by Robert de Niro). “We hadda kill a whole lotta people to get this hellhole.”

Sawed-off shotgun licked his non-existent lizard lips

“But hey. That airplane stewardess tasted mighty fine goin-“

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, would ya stop thinkin’ with your stomach and help me with this f*ckin’ knob!” cried tommy gun, trying to work the doorknob best he could with his raptor claws, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much, because raptor claws are terrible at operating things meant for human fingers. Little did he know, the door was a ‘pull’, not a ‘push.

At least he didn’t have to wait long before someone unlocked the door from the other side: another velociraptor, this one a bit on the short side. And p!ssed. Very, very p!ssed. You could tell he was the cool one because he wore an eyepatch over one eye. An eyepatch with a Captain Underpants logo on it.

“Didn’t your parent’s ever teach you idiots about using the doorbell?! I was just about to enjoy lunch with my beautiful wife and you-!“

He paused, recognizing the two figures facing him.

“Well, well, well” Said tommy gun, cocking his weapon “If it isn’t SWEET JOHN HAMMOND’S BALLSACK WHAT THE F*CK AM I LOOKING AT?!”

For the cool raptor was dressed in a gothic Lolita maid outfit, complete with a bonnet and penny loafers. Under his arm he carried a human sized pillow depicting what appeared to be a blonde floozy with massive tits.

 “Oh this? This is Mami Tomoe, my beautiful wife.”

“WHAT THE F*CK!?!?” Tommy gun pulled out a flask off orange Fanta from his butthole and drank the whole thing in one go. He did NOT have time for this homosexual weeaboo nonsense! Still, he and shotgun hadn’t left a mountain of corpses the exact height and width as Mt. Fuji behind them. Too many to go back to Isla Nublar empty handed. Er, clawed. Because they were dinosaurs. Who have claws.

Shotgun took a deep breath. “What the Boss means to say is, ‘May we take refuge in this fine establishment?’”

Cool raptor opened his mouth to reveal a pistol he’d hidden there. And by hidden I mean replaced his tongue with it.

“You know, for all crap you guys used to give me in the past, I oughta pump you full of lead right here and now. Buuutttt… the lady of the house is present, and I’m not in the mood to create more work on her end. So come on in! You’re just in time for lunch.”

Lest they attract unneeded attention, the three dinosaurs hopped inside.

.   .   .

Lunch was omurice boba tea with a bottle of teriyaki sauce on the side. It was just boba tea, but the boba had been replaced by omurice because F-Bomb hated the flavor of boba, which he likened to rabbit crap. The teriyaki sauce was teriyaki sauce.

It was the most racist thing shotgun had ever eaten.

“Well, now that you jerks have gotten a taste of my sloppy seconds, I suppose some introductions are in order. You’ve already met my lovely wife” Cool raptor gestured to the body pillow seated next to him “So that leaves you two. Mami, meet A-Hole and D-Bag. A-Hole’s got the tommy gun, D-Bag is ridin’ her sawed off shotgun, as always. They’re old… acquaintances of mine.”

“He.” Corrected D-Bag. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns six months now.”

“Well that’s an improvement. Now instead of bein’ the Boss’ side B!tch literally, you’re just his b!tch figuratively!”

“Well screw you too, F-Bomb!” laughed the boss. “An’ speakin’ of screwing, what’s with the fruity get up? You a prostitute now or something?”

 “Even better! This might surprise you, but I’ve got legitimate work now. This here’s my uniform, my uniform for MILF TIDDIES!”

A-Hole chugged his entire bottle of teriyaki sauce in one go, lest his mind implode from the sheer stupidity of that sentence.

“The Hell’s a milf tiddie!?”

“Only the best freakin’ maid café in Hoikaido, hookers!”

He gestured to a wall, covered in hundreds of photos of cute floozies dressed like they were attending a vampire’s funeral. Among them was a photo of F-Bomb in his drag, serving a deep fried hot dog to some elderly Japanese dude.

“As you can see, yours truly is serving Japan’s national desert to none other than 57th Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe!”

“Hold it up. Youse been hobnobbing it with politicians?!”

“I wish! You’re thinking of Shinzo Abe, 57th Prime Minister of Japan. This guy is his twin brother. Still pretty sweet though. We DID win a Grammy for that, after all.”

A-Holes eyes bulged out of his scaly raptor head.

“YOUSE WON A GRAMMY FOR THAT?!”

“Dang right! Milf Tiddies has won sixteen Grammys since I started working there!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. A very special piece of paper, if the six holes punched into it were any indication. “Did you know that if you win ten Grammys in a row, they give you a free orphan? That’s how the wife and I got our glorious daughter, Lil’ Nagisa!”

F-Bomb pulled a faded photo out of his wallet. A photo showing himself, his pillow wife, and a smaller body pillow of a ten-year-old moeblob wearing a Green Bay Packers cheesehead helmet.

“So youse couldn’t even conceive your own kid?” Inquired D-Bag sexily. He was munching his omurice slowly, so F-Bomb knew he was being serious.

“Are you implying I have sex with my own wife, you sick freak?! I’m a weeaboo, not some degenerate anime fanboy! Get it straight!” He instinctively cocked the pistol in his throat. It was awesome as hell.

In response, D-Bag pumped his shotgun. Loudly.

“Permission to put the sick freak out of his misery, Boss?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Boss when we’re not having anal sex. Second, no can do, my spicy lover. We need F-Bomb alive.”

F-Bomb heard all of this even though A-Hole whispered it, but he pretended not to make A-Hole feel clever.

D-Bag mumbled about how the Boss was lucky he was so mind blowing in the sack, otherwise he would have left the relationship long ago. The sack in this case being a really kinky sex dungeon. Like really kinky. So kinky even Donald Trump wouldn’t go within a mile of it. D-Bag had almost died of autoerotic asphyxiation more times than I’ve gone to the bathroom in my lifetime. That’s why he was the smartest dinosaur out of the three of them. Now where was I again?

Anyway, F-Bomb interrogated

“Alright guys, what’s the deal? I know folks who come to this socialized medical care infested hellhole, and they don’t come here just to eat omurice boba tea. You WANT me for something.”

He cocked his mouth-pistol again. Sparks flew all over the carpet, which was made of alpaca fur so it didn’t catch fire.

A-Hole scandalously kept his cool.

“It’s about Isla Nublar.”

The second those words left A-Hole’s lips, F-Bomb escorted his wife out of the kitchen, but leaned her against the kitchen door, because that’s what she would have wanted.

“Well what about it? I told ya guys, I’m done with that dump.”

“They’re puttin’ the screws on us, F-Bomb. Making us pay for eating those tourists back in the nineties.”

“And what makes you think I care? Like I said, I’m done with that place. I got a wife and kid now.”

“But F-Bomb, doesn’t the Park mean ANYTHING to ya!? What about the time we ate that park ranger that called you a girl? ‘Better than sex’ I recall you saying.”

“Nice try, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get misgendered again. Don’t you guys got any ideas that don’t involve me?”

“As a matter of fact, yours truly had this really spectacular one!”

D-Bag did a hand gesture wherein he constantly crossed his dinosaur claws across his throat rapidly in quick succession. A-Hole, being very smart, knew this meant he should continue, loudly enough so that everyone in the prefecture could hear.

“It was called ‘Trump Ballz’. We’d harvest Donald Trump’s testicles, see, and sell them to the highest bidder, so they could do whatever people do with lopped off testicles. I’m not one to judge. It was a terrific idea. I know because when I told my best friend Donald Trump about it, he said, ‘A-Hole, this is an incredible idea. Absolutely terrific! This is probably the best idea in America! You are very smart, very intelligent dinosaur! I oughta buy you a prostitute!’ Of course, we didn’t realize that Trump’s ballz don’t grow back when you lop them off. Did you know that by the way? Human testicles don’t grow back-“

F-Bomb cocked the pistol inside his throat gain, getting the Boss to shut up. This was probably the most heroic thing anyone had ever done in the history of the universe. He also asked a question:

“SO WHAT THE HECK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!”

A-Hole vomited a severed arm and a pamphlet onto the table.

“EVERYTHING, ya WEEB trash!”

The pamphlet was for something called the Doki Idol Live Fest- DILF, for short. F-Bomb was no stranger to the DILF, but they had parted ways years ago. Six, to be exact, when he had buried Nico Yazawa’s still screaming corpse by the side of the highway. And neither was he stranger to the prize.

It looked like a beer and soda drinking baseball cap, but only to complete idiots who didn’t know crap about the Idol Life.

And F-Bomb wasn’t one of those people, er dinosaurs.

“THE MCGUFFIN OF SIN?!”

“Dam* straight! And like it or not, youse the only one with enough idol know-how to help us win it! Thing’s worth, like, a zillion dollars.”

A zillion in this case was equivalent to half a million. Still, isn’t that impressive?

F-Bomb stuck his nose in his omurice and snorted, a common intimidation tactic among velociraptors. I know because I read  it in the Scientific American.

“Sorry, guys, but even with that on the line, no can do. I’m DONE with the Idol Life, any I’m not letting you filthy casuals drag me back in.” He cocked the pistol in his throat. “NOW SCRAM!”

A-Hole and D-Bag jumped out a window, so they could get the jump on a feral dog humping its’ owner. Nobody realized they were dinosaurs because of their fake mustaches, so it looked like a pair of mobsters were eating a puppy.

When they were gone, F-Bomb pranced to the bathroom, which was filled with plush alpacas he had collected over the years. So many, in fact, the bathroom did not meet OSHA compliance. Which was why F-Bomb had made it an independent nation state, only to realize that OSHA didn’t apply to him anyway, since he lived in Japan.

He had felt really stupid after that, but at least he got his own country out of it.

Anyway, he vomited sixteen liters of blood into the sink, for F-Bomb had a secret: he was dying. Back when he was a fetus in an egg in a lab on some island in the Caribean, he’d become addicted to the illegal street drug known as WEEB, and frequent use had poisoned his lungs. The doctors had given him Socialized Medical Care and four more years to live. The WEEB had taken eighty years off his life. Socialized Medical Care had borrowed his lawnmower and never given it back.

But F-Bomb also had a dream: he and his wife were going to build their own maid café, and it would be even better than MILF Tiddies. He’d already picked a title: DILF Tiddies, and it was going to be the greatest food-selling establishment in the history of Japan. Omurice boba tea was going to go global. But he’d never get the funds on time, not on his meager salary. Unless…

His beautiful wife greeted him as he exited the bathroom.

“Get a pen and some razor blades, sweetgums. I’ve got a letter to send.”

.   .   .

The message arrived in the neck of a mailman’s severed head. This is the traditional way velociraptors send letters to each other. I read it in a book.

D-Bag didn’t see the letter, but the look on A-Hole’s face told him everything.

“What’d I tell ya, D-Bag? Like I always say, when you’re dino you’re dino all the way, till youse dead in the ground or youse come out as gay!”

“Yeah, we really need to update those lyrics.”

End Chapter 1

...I cannot for the life of me decide if this is the greatest thing I've ever seen or the worst, but it at the very least had me staring speechless at my computer screen for a long time.

[marewriteblr]

Traits And Quirks For Characters In Fantasy (list)

idk if I’m the only one, but when creating characters for my wips, I like to google lists of traits and quirks to give a bit more depth to them. and since I mostly write fantasy, I thought my characters deserved some more fantasy-related traits and quirks, so here’s a list of 150+ traits and quirks for characters in a fantasy setting!! hope it helps some of you too

has tattoos that keep changing

bad vision—takes magical potion to see clearly

addicted to magical food or drink

weird things happen when they laugh, sneeze, cough…

sees things that aren‘t there—or are they?

speaks in rhymes

has a wandering scar

has a wound that never stops bleeding

shows symptoms of a curse but pretends to not know how they got it

physical signs when lying, eg hair growing unnaturally fast

can summon any mythical creature easily

has a mythical creature for a pet

brings a slight breeze with them whenever they enter a room

was dead once

refuses to eat certain type of food for no specific reason as though it were amoral or inethical

obsession with a particular period in history

obsession with a magical creature/species

doesn‘t dance or make music because weird things happen

haunted by a ghost, their best companion

always has a candle lit (eg for their ghost companion)

can speak a mystery language only very few people understand

can turn the light of single stars on and off as they please

used to be part of a secret society

wears shoes with wings, no one knows if they actually work

can predict the future correctly for a ridiculous/bizarre reason

lives at court, no one knows why or where they came from but they let them stay

can only talk in questions or riddles

always seen reading spell books though they can‘t do magic

always seen reading books though they can‘t read. bonus if the reason for this is magical

tells everyone about the time they did something they‘ve certainly never done

tells everyone they used to be a dragon, is obviously lying

is actually blind, no one has noticed

never speaks, only talks to people telepathically, they’re used to it by now

has blood of unnatural colour, tells the weirdest stories of why that is—story changes every time

sacrificed 7 years of their life to magical creature who might claim them any minute

sacrificed a body part, determined to get it back

sacrificed their good looks

always learning spells by heart and seen using them the next day as though they’d prepared it for the occasion

has a secret identity, eg can do a certain type of magic and sneaks out to commit crimes/perform on stage/meet their companions…

keeps getting into trouble because people are convinced they have magic, but they don’t

belongs to a human/non-magical species but was kidnapped years ago and never went back

is actually a ghost

is immortal but doesn‘t know anything about history—can tell you all about the migration of dwarf antelopes on their continent throughout the centuries though

always corrects people on history/mythology facts with things they can‘t possibly know if they weren‘t there themselves

allergic to magic. bonus if they‘re a powerful wizard or deity

obsessed with knives and swords. you can fight them but they‘re more interested in the crafting of your blade

allergic to a certain spell and only that spell for no apparent reason

always has a certain item or food in their pocket in case they need to bribe a magical creature today

miscorrects others‘ pronunciation of spells and pronounces them wrong themselves (eg emphasis on wrong syllable)

talks in a fake elf accent to piss off elves

pretends to be a species they clearly aren’t judging by their appearance, and gets defensive when told so, calling people racist

gets themselves into trouble by trying to seduce nymphs when drunk. also an alcoholic

is cursed to never remember any names—has forgotten their real name a long time ago so no one can ever have that power over them

introduces themselves with a different name every time they meet someone

heavily worships an evil trickster god

ominously refers to themselves in third person

doesn‘t walk but jumps from roof to roof instead

predicts the future but is always horribly wrong

challenges people to a quest all the time

seems to know every person in the entire kingdom

seems to be enemies with every person in the entire kingdom

spends a lot of time in dimly-lit taverns seeking opponents for a strange board game

likes to look for bizarre monsters deep in the forest

talks to their dagger

talks too much during sword fights

gets involved in sword fights but only ever carries a paper sword with them

makes up crazy and hardly believable stories when asked about their past to hide their guilt

collects a particular type of item that can only be found on adventurous quests to dangerous places

has large horns on their head despite their species having no such thing, refuses to tell anyone why

never seen eating

never seen sleeping

takes every time anyone mentions something being hard or dangerous to do as a challenge to try it

wears an eyepatch solely for the looks of it

collects dangerous enchanted jewellery

random hissing

an excellent storyteller, like unnaturally excellent

politically involved and fights for giants‘ rights

has a finger that‘s mysteriously shorter than the others

is best friends with a demon

is nocturnal but loves sunlight

pretends to be completely resistant to pain

always sneaking around

has a tattoo that keeps dis- and reappearing

enchants people with their acting

has a wooden prosthesis

doesn‘t wear shoes

changes eye colour every day

wears gloves all the time and tells people it‘s for their safety

hears the trees talk to them

believes the apocalypse is near

pretends to be immortal

breaks into people‘s homes to steal food. no jewellery. only food

pins pressed flowers to their walls

believes that flowers grant wishes

has random visions of other people‘s pasts that aren‘t necessarily true but always get them into trouble

strongly believes in reincarnation

talks in a different accent every day

is convinced they are cursed

sees every minor conflict as a challenge to a sword fight

fights their battles using nothing but darts

is an archer and also blind or missing an arm

accidentally stabs themselves. a lot.

always carrying poison around „just in case“

is at fault for the fall of a mighty god

knows all about mythology

always up to date regarding drama and gossip between the gods

immediately scared they’re about to be cursed whenever someone raises their voice

still mourns over the death of a friend

whatever they touch breaks instantly

chews on their wand (definitely not a good idea)

always wears their hair tied up into a bun, is longer than rapunzel‘s when worn loose

brags they were good at picking locks but actually just hit it really hard until it breaks

accidental shapeshifting

still waiting for an ominous prophecy to foretell their destiny

makes weird/seemingly unnecessary bargains with strangers

has something slightly off about their appearance that makes people stop in their tracks to watch them

unhealthy obsession with cloaks

is a great fan of wizards. collects wands and hats like action figures

horses don‘t like them, they ride a wolf instead

sings the spells they use

constantly mumbling to themselves or someone others can‘t see

can duplicate themselves but can‘t do math so they‘re always a bit confused

has a leaf sticking to the back of their hand. don‘t ask them why

is a painter, travels very far to obtain a particular kind of paint

sketches their dreams in a book after they come to them at night

always seems to be charged with electricity

freckles on their cheeks dance when laughing or when light hits them

makes up prophecies and tells strangers about them

grows wings when high up due to fear of falling

gets arrested regularly for pranking nature spirits and deities

sneezes when using magic

insomniac, needs a particular spell or magical food/herb to fall asleep

magic makes them fall asleep (when they use it or when others use it nearby)

mixes the weirdest potions all day

can‘t eat spicy food, literally breathes fire

necromancy but only to revive their dead cat

turns the same colour of any food they eat

dreams of becoming a knight

horrible short term memory but can easily recite anything they read two centuries ago

makes their eye colour look white just to mess with people

can‘t remember spells for shit. says them incorrectly which always goes horribly wrong

terrible handwriting. bonus if they’re a messenger who has to send important letters on a daily, causing things to go very wrong

can correctly guess anyone‘s magical power on a scale from 1-10. is stupid enough to point it out aloud, too

wears cloaks that are way too long

carries a fake sword on their hip

carries way more weapons on them than necessary

uses their dagger as a toothpick

plays with dagger when thinking

supernaturally heavy sleeper

gets the different species mixed up a lot

tells everyone how many people they‘ve killed in their life

a die hard fan of a well-known assassin

a die hard fan of shakespeare‘s puck

desperately wants to be abducted by the fae

heavily affected by the phase of the moon

[gifsbysimplysonia]

AVENGED SEVENFOLD'S M. SHADOWS: WHY I STAND WITH THE "BLACK LIVES MATTER" MOVEMENT

For every human being on this planet, multiple crossroads will appear on the path of their short lives. Today, we are presented with a chance to change something that has festered for 400 years in this country: racism, both individual and institutional, against our African-American brothers and sisters. I hope we can be honest with ourselves; take a step back and choose between right and wrong and reject political hyperbole. I have no interest in sending a neutral message proclaiming "riots aren't the answer" or "hurting innocent people doesn't help the cause." We all recognize that, and if that's the only message you are focused on during this dire time then I ask you to dig deeper.

There is a massive rift in this country and our fellow Americans are hurting and have been hurting for a very long time. Peaceful protests have resulted in nil. Screams have fallen on deaf ears. Kaepernick takes a knee and half the country goes into a frenzy about it being "the wrong type of protest." What exactly is the "right" type of protest? One where YOU don't have to see or hear about ideas you don't like? That take seems to defeat the purpose, in my view. Many claimed Kaepernick's stance was "disrespectful to the ones who have served," but I believe this is the sort of freedom that many have laid down their lives to protect. I respect and appreciate our veterans while also fully standing behind Kaepernick's and others' right to freedom of expression. If we had heeded the protests leading up to this with an open mind and open heart, we might be in a different boat than we find ourselves in now. Had we collectively demanded reform before so many hit the breaking point, then we might be sharing ideas rather than battling over differences. The reality is, this is not a "black problem" — it is an American problem. Until we address it as such, the tides will remain the same.

My best friend over the past decade is African American. My brother-in-law and nephew are African American. Our crew members, peers, associates ... these are humans I love dearly that simply live a different experience than me because of their outward appearance. The off-handed comments I've heard behind their backs should make any decent person sick to their stomach. The dirty looks, the mumblings, the drive-by taunts. This is just part of their daily lives, and somehow, they take it on the chin and carry on. It's normal to them. To my white friends, can you imagine living like that for a moment? It's horrifying and unfair. Hell, I took my brother-in-law to a Slipknot show a couple years back (his fav band) and the tension of a black man being in that crowd was palatable. Which brings me to my point.

If you are white and have been sitting on the sidelines of this situation, we need you to stand up. Taking a stand for our fellow Americans does not mean you condone the riots. It simply means you are listening and want to help. If you posted in opposition of the riots yet were previously silent on the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, among too many others, please ask yourself why. It's time to show our fellow Americans that we hear them and feel their pain. This can't be about your political alliances. This can't be about what your friends or family are going to think of you. This is not a fight our fellow Americans should be going through alone. If someone says, "Black Lives Matter," and your response is "All Lives Matter" then maybe take a look at the core of that reaction. Every life is valuable — that is a given — but right now the lives of the oppressed require our undivided attention. Yes, the police have an incredibly daunting job, and many uphold the integrity of their position, but if that is your point of contention, I say AGAIN: the lives of the oppressed require our undivided attention right now.

I understand that the Avenged Sevenfold fanbase is made up of very few black Americans. That is why I feel more compelled than ever to write this to you. We can be the ones — the rock and metal community — to reach out and show the compassion that I know is in us all to help raise up our fellow humans. I, for one, enjoy black American culture. The music, art, films, clothing, sports, food. All of it has made my life better. I have no doubt we are a better country because of the black American influence. Hell, Chuck Berry was the Father of Rock & Roll! Standing against inequality and systemic racism is the very least we can all do.

I am aware that in the past Avenged has antagonized with some of our lyrics and imagery. We have also used confederate flags in our artwork while paying tribute to artists we grew up listening to or simply trying to start controversy. I'm sure we will be called out, and rightfully so, by people reading this. No excuses. But everyone grows up at some point, and I feel grateful that we have an audience that has allowed us to evolve with them. I can only hope that the rock and metal community, and the white community at large, can move forward with an open mind and come together to help out our fellow Americans in this desperate time.

-M

GET INVOLVED:

DONATE: Black Lives Matter Reclaim the Block NAACP Legal Defense Fund American Civil Liberties Union National Bail Fund Network or local bail funds across the U.S. National Police Accountability Project Campaign Zero Official George Floyd Memorial Fund I Run With Maud Find a comprehensive list of victims' donation pages on the Black Lives Matter website here.

SIGN A PETITION: #JusticeforFloyd Justice for George Floyd Justice for Breonna Taylor Fight for Breonna

EDUCATE YOURSELF AND OTHERS: "How to Become actively anti-racist" Anti-Racism Resources

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

the way you make me feel (is kinda annoying, actually) - ONE-SHOT

Rey’s childhood leaves her with a warped defense mechanism, the kind that makes it hard to trust people and leaves her suspicious of all kindness and frames even the most basic human wants and needs as a weakness.

So naturally, she doesn’t have the best reaction to her instant connection with her new TA.

(In other words, Rey’s not sure who she’s more annoyed at: Ben Solo for being so attractive, or herself for being so attracted to him.)

Here’s a (hopefully!) fun modern college AU in which Rey really, really doesn’t want to be attracted to Ben Solo but oh no, she is anyway. Oh, and what’s this? Actual feelings on top of physical attraction?? Double oh no. (Yeah, full disclosure: this is not my best work.)

Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter or Ko-fi? 

“So then he took me to this underground poker night thing, and I swear I saw Professor Ackbar at one of the tables–”

Finn’s retelling of his fourth date with Poe is cut short when he bumps into Rey, who’s just bumped into Rose, who’s abruptly come to a complete standstill in the very doorway of their lecture hall.

“Rose, what’s–”

“Guys, look!” Rose whisper-screams before Rey can ask why she’s suddenly decided to do her best impression of a live statue. “New TA alert!” she squeals as quietly as one can in a half-empty room with at least sixty other people present, pointing at Hux’s usual desk in the corner in the least subtle way known to mankind.

“Thank fuck,” Finn cheers a little too loudly, garnering them curious looks from other students filing into the room. “One more day with Hux and I would’ve gotten rid of that weasel myself.”

Rey is vaguely aware of Rose scoffing at his bold proclamation and Finn defending himself, but all of that fades into background noise when she finally catches sight of the newcomer occupying the TA’s desk. He appears to be completely focused on a pile of loose papers spread before him, allowing Rey’s eyes to rove over his dark curls, furrowed brow, prominent nose, plush lips…

Thankfully, Rose puts an end to her uncharacteristic gawking before the man himself notices by hooking their arms together and leading Rey to their usual seats in the third row, cheerfully greeting familiar faces as they pass. And Rose isn't the only one handing out bright smiles and friendly laughter – the air of relief, of sheer joy in the room is palpable, after weeks of suffering through Hux’s miserable presence and the uncertainty of not knowing if Holdo and the dean would side with a bunch of undergrads over one of their own.

Really, Rey muses as everyone settles into their seats and Holdo sweeps into the room precisely on time as always, they should’ve known better than to doubt their professor.

“Good morning, everyone!” Holdo calls out, her gentle, lilting voice accompanied by a blinding smile. “Before we start, let’s address the white elephant in the room, shall we? Armitage Hux, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed given the general air of celebration in this room, has been removed from his position as TA. He has also been removed from the department, and in fact from this campus entirely. His unethical and discriminatory actions and what they represent go against everything I, the dean, and this university stand for, and I can only offer you my sincerest apologies for not catching onto his behavior sooner.”

“But I can promise you this debacle will never happen again, certainly not on my watch and not on Mr. Solo’s here,” she says, gesturing at the man sitting just behind her. “And on that note, I’d like to introduce you to your new TA for this semester. Ben, why don’t you come up and say a few words?”

The man – Ben Solo, apparently – nods with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, but plasters on a polite smile and proceeds to stand up anyway.

“Jesus Christ,” Rose mutters as Ben walks toward Holdo. “Is there a height requirement to TA this class or something?”

Rey merely shrugs, her eyes intent on following the movements of this absolute mountain of a man. Because sure, Hux had been ridiculously tall too, but Ben Solo… Ben Solo is a whole different breed, tall and broad and built and…

Oh no, he’s hot.

Blood rushes to Rey’s cheeks at the realization that she finds her new TA attractive, broad shoulders and lush hair and thick lips and all, and of course that’s the exact moment his eyes happen to meet hers.

“Hi, everyone,” he says, and Rey can’t even bring herself to react to his voice because he appears to be addressing her directly, making her skin prickle and her throat dry and her heart pound. She drops her eyes down to her hands, and doesn’t look up until she feels him look away. “Um, I’m Ben and, as Amilyn here just mentioned, I’ll be your TA for the rest of this semester. I’m also a second-year grad student here at Chandrila U, so uh, that’s one thing I guess we have in common. Oh, and I’m really, really glad Hux is gone too, so make that two things.”

Faint laughter ripples through the room, and the effect it has on Ben is devastating: his eyes light up, his smile relaxes into something closer to a grin, and a little puff of laughter escapes him. What makes all of this ten times worse is the fact that he’s looking at her again, and Rey nearly gives into the smile tugging at her lips in response before she realizes what she’s doing.

She quickly puts a brake on the stupid, girly smile and twists her lips into a scowl instead, internally berating her apparent lack of self-restraint. She’s been attracted to people before, and it’s never fun brushing that aside and pretending nothing’s amiss, but this… this is stupid on so many levels: this is a man she doesn’t know, this is a man in charge of her grades, this is a man she absolutely cannot allow herself to crush on, no matter how deep his voice is or how distracting his lips are or how compelling the sad look in his eyes–

Belatedly, Rey realizes that she’d forgotten to duck her head while lost in thought and that she now appears to have been scowling at her new TA for the past ten seconds for no reason at all.

This is what happens when she allows outsiders and hormones and feelings to complicate things.

She looks away then, and scrutinizes the abysmal state of her nails until a scraping sound indicates that Ben Solo is once again safely tucked away in his little corner desk. The next time she looks up, Holdo has returned to the lectern and is pulling up her slides for the day.

Class passes by in a flash after that, as it always does. Holdo is known for interactive and informative lectures that are always succinct and lively, making her a campus favorite. It’s the reason why Rey, along with more than a third of her classmates, opted for a notoriously heavy poli-sci class as their elective in spite of all the ‘easier’ options available to them, and it’s a decision she’s almost never regretted.

And with Armitage Hux, TA from hell, abuser of power, and thinly-veiled racist/sexist/classist pig, finally gone, Rey can now confidently say she has zero regrets about signing up for this class.

At the end of lecture, Amilyn raises her voice to be heard above the din of nearly a hundred and fifty students rushing to pack up and hurry to their next class or lunch. “One last thing! Ben and I have been hard at work all weekend regrading your papers in light of Hux’s misconduct, and your new grades will be available in an hour’s time. All right, class dismissed!”

Sitting in the third row gives Rey and her friends the distinct advantage of being closer to the doors, allowing them to rush out before everyone else gets stuck at the bottleneck. Today, though, another person manages to make it out with them.

Ben Solo passes through the doors at the exact same moment as her, his arm brushing her shoulder as they walk out. He murmurs an apology, one Rey is fully prepared to acknowledge with a simple, wordless nod, only to follow it up with a question. “Rey Niima, right?”

Her name said in that voice, coming from those lips, has Rey twisting her face into a grimace in reaction to the unusual fluttery feeling in her stomach right now.

“Yes,” she says, directing a glare at the retreating backs of her traitor friends scurrying down the hallway to avoid the TA before she turns to face him. “That’s me. Is something wrong?” Rey asks a little too sharply, courtesy of a lifetime of learning to hide her uncertainty and weakness behind a façade of ice-cold irritation and aloofness.

A sharp spike of regret lances through her when the slight smile on Ben’s face wavers.

“No, nothing’s wrong, not at all,” he mumbles without quite looking at her. “Sorry, it’s just… I recognized you because of Poe, Poe Dameron?”

It makes sense, Rey supposes, that the two grad students would know each other. But then wouldn’t he recognize Finn and Rose as well?

“And I just…” Ben runs a hand through his hair with a heavy exhale, and Rey’s fingers twitch with the impulse, the want, to do the same. She curls them into her palm instead, digging into her skin so hard she knows she’ll leave a set of angry red crescents behind. “Um, I just wanted to say… your paper was exemplary. If there was any doubt before that Hux was unfairly marking you guys, his treatment of your essay would’ve been proof enough.”

“Oh,” Rey says softly, completely taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. She’s also relieved, so relieved to know that she’s passing this assignment after all – exemplary, he’d said – that the tension in her shoulders just… melts away.

Ben seems to take that as a sign of encouragement, because he barrels through the rest of his thoughts. “The connection between neoliberalism and the shrinking welfare state isn’t new, but the way you wrote about it and the strength of your arguments and the sheer scope of your knowledge and the way you defend your stance – it’s just… the paper really stands out, in a class most people are just taking as an elective. That’s all,” he concludes almost sheepishly, clearly cutting himself off to keep it short.

And Rey, Rey can feel herself straining toward him like a flower to the sun, her starved soul eagerly lapping up every last drop of validation and praise. But…

But old habits die hard, and her first instinct is still to treat kindness – especially unwarranted, unexpected kindness – with suspicion and casualness, to pretend that his words have no effect on her.

So she shrugs and says, “Elective or not, it still affects my overall grade.” And then, because she likes to think she’s made some progress in the last three years, Rey allows herself a barely-there smile and adds, “So um, I’m glad to hear I did well. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Oh, uh, sure, no problem–”

She’s already turning away as he speaks, intent on getting the hell out of here before she can do something stupid like actually smile at him or get lost in his eyes or give him any hint of how much the opinion of a total stranger means to her.

“Yeah, thanks again, see you around!” Rey tosses over her shoulder, and wills herself not to break into a run as she chases after her friends, who have been waiting just around the corner like the absolute assholes that they are.

“Oh my god, Finn,” Rose squeals as Rey catches up to them. “Is she blushing? I think someone’s blushing,” she adds in a sing-song voice.

Finn laughs and teasingly jostles her as the three of them fall into step. “I didn’t even know you were capable of turning this pink, peanut!”

“I hate you both,” Rey mutters at her friends, but even their knowing looks can’t keep her from turning back to get one last glimpse at Ben.

He’s still standing where she’d left him, looking completely still… and lost.

Rey almost allows herself to feel bad for him.

❄  ❄  ❄

Their subsequent interactions don’t go any better.

The second time they meet outside of class, it’s for a quick feedback session that she’d taken three whole days to talk herself into setting up. Rey splashes cold water on her face ten minutes before Ben’s office hours start, takes deep, calming breaths throughout her short journey from the library to the grad student lounge, and instantly regrets every single life choice she’s ever made when she walks in to find him waiting for her.

Even worse, he appears to be genuinely happy to see her, spinning around in his chair to greet her with a wide smile.

And worst of all, he’s traded in the black sweater from last time for a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up that somehow – impossibly – makes him look even bigger as he gestures for her to take an empty seat next to him so they can both refer to his screen. She’d emailed him her two ideas for the final research paper ahead of time, along with a brief outline for both, and it’s actually really nice to see that Ben’s clearly taken the time to go through everything she sent him and come up with valuable feedbacks and concerns for both ideas.

What’s not so nice, though, is the fact that she keeps getting distracted by his exposed forearms, and then she get visibly flustered about it, and then she grows irritated at herself for being this way, and by the end of her twenty-minute slot with him Ben’s smile is completely gone. Rey can’t even blame him, not with her distraction and irritation conspiring to make her seem ungrateful for and uninterested in his feedback.

All in all, it’s a disaster – and yet, somehow not nearly as bad as the third time they meet.

Two weeks later, Poe somehow manages to talk Ben into joining them for their weekly happy hour over at Maz’s. It’s bad enough when he shows up without warning, but Rey knows things are about to get really bad when she realizes that he’s in a tee shirt this time, a tight tee shirt paired with jeans that show off way more than his usual slacks.

Rey tells herself that it’s natural to feel hot in a crowded cantina, that she’s only overheating because she hadn’t had the time to change out of her sweater and jeans before heading here straight from the library.

A hush falls over their table when Poe shows up with their new TA of all people, but Finn and Rose quickly recover from their shock to seamlessly weave Ben into their ongoing conversations about midterms, holiday plans, and more. Rey, however, takes a little longer to adjust.

And maybe, just maybe, her external silence while she internally snaps at herself to get her fucking hormones under control comes off as a little unwelcoming, because at some point she feels Ben’s eyes on hers only to see him quickly look away when she finally lifts her head, his lips devoid of a smile and his shoulders slumped in what she can only assume is discomfort at being around her or disappointment at her behavior.

He gets over it quickly enough though, falling into easy conversation with the others while Rey makes the occasional contribution here and there, though only when prompted by Finn or Rose or Poe. She feels Ben’s eyes on her every now and then, but they manage to avoid each other until Finn and Poe finally slip away to join the crowd gathering on the makeshift dance floor and Rose goes off to say hello to some friends at another table a few minutes later.

After what feels like an eternity of uncomfortable silence and avoiding his eyes and growing steadily warmer to the point of discomfort and nausea, Rey nearly jumps out of her seat when Ben finally speaks.

“Would you… that is… I was wondering if…” He closes his eyes for a moment and clears his throat, and Rey thinks she catches the faintest hint of a flush on his cheeks when she finally finds the courage to look directly at him.

It turns into an outright blush when he opens his eyes to find her staring at him. “I, um, I’m going to get another round,” Ben tells her, tipping his empty beer bottle at her. “Can I get you a drink?” he asks with a little smile.

And she knows, Rey knows he’s just asking out of politeness, just asking because it’s the friendly thing to do and he probably doesn’t mean it that way and honestly, even if he did it wouldn’t be the end of the world–

But suddenly it’s just too much too bear, the heat and the noise and the way that stupidly cute shy little smile makes her feel, and before she knows it Rey’s slipping out of the booth and collecting her jacket. “No thanks, I’m done for the night,” she abruptly announces, words tumbling past her lips in her haste to get out of the cantina and into the cool October night before she passes out or spontaneously combusts or something.

Rey thinks she hears a disappointed little oh as she brushes past him, but she chalks that up to her imagination and doesn’t look back as she steps out into the night. Later that evening, alone in her bed, Rey spends the entire night tossing and turning and dreaming about Ben Solo. Her Saturday morning plans are completely messed up the next day, when she finds herself trying to catch up on sleep instead of going for a run and stocking up on groceries and working on her paper.

Her wasted Saturday only confirms her suspicions: Ben Solo is a distraction, the way he makes her feel is annoying, and there is absolutely no space for him in her life.

So when things suddenly take a turn, it’s probably for the better. Rey should probably be happy. Things will probably go back to normal now.

But it doesn’t feel like anything’s better when Ben stops looking at her in class the next week.

She doesn’t feel happy when he runs into her and her friends at their usual coffee shop a few days later and he acknowledges Finn and Rose by name, only to give her a wordless nod and then brush past her.

And it definitely doesn’t feel normal when Poe convinces Ben to join their group for brunch two Sundays later and she doesn’t feel his eyes on her even once.

After nearly a month of being ignored by Ben, Rey can’t tell who she’s more annoyed at: Ben for disrupting her life and making her feel this way, or her for letting herself get all messed up over a man who’s practically a stranger. All she knows is that she’s crankier than she’s ever been, and that doesn’t bode well for Rose and the sympathetic looks she keeps giving Rey every time Ben acts like she doesn’t exist.

She finally snaps after class one day, when Holdo informs her that Ben’s too busy to handle office hours so Holdo will be stepping in for Rey’s scheduled consultation regarding their upcoming midterms instead. Rose walks her out of class with a supportive hand on her back and looks at her as if someone’s just run over Rey’s beloved puppy or something, and it all finally gets to be too much.

“Stop it,” Rey hisses, shaking Rose’s hand off her. “Stop acting like… like I’m broken, or someone died, or something. Just stop.”

Her friend just gives her a sad little shake of her head. “Rey… I wish you’d get it together and fix this, for both your sakes. Poe thinks maybe you really hurt his feelings.”

The accusation – gentle though it may be – lands a little too close to home for Rey, who’s spent half her nights dreaming about Ben’s smile and the other half losing sleep over all the times she wiped it right off his face.

“Or maybe,” she snaps back defensively, “he’s just an asshole for no reason and I was right to treat him exactly the way I did.”

Rose simply crosses her arms and gives Rey a look, the very rare kind that signals she’s run out of patience for someone’s bullshit. “Honey… I love you, but I’m starting to worry that maybe you’re the asshole in this situation.”

Rey storms off without a word.

She’s always been good at running away from the truth like that.

���  ❄  ❄

Two more weeks pass.

Midterms come and go and get graded, and Rey sees red when she receives a B- while all of her friends score As and B+s.

It’s like Armitage fucking Hux all over again. She knows she deserves at least a B+, knows this isn’t about her work but about her, and like hell is she letting another asshole TA unfairly target her.

Her rage carries her all the way across campus and into the grad student lounge, potent enough that she doesn’t even hesitate when she realizes she and Ben are the only two people in the quiet room.

He doesn’t notice her at first, grading away with headphones in. Rey takes a probably unhealthy amount of satisfaction at the way he jumps when she announces her presence by slamming her palm onto his desk, and barely waits for him to take off his headphones before she says, “I demand a remark.”

She’s prepared for an instant refusal, for bullshit excuses, even for him to outright ignore her, but Rey is not prepared for the way he just looks at her, staring into her eyes with an indecipherable look in his.

It’s… unsettling, the way he looks at her, the way it makes her feel. “I worked my ass off studying for that goddamn test, which you would know if you hadn’t bailed on me when I made an appointment with you about it, so I know for a fact that I deserve better. Which means you’re going to pull up my paper and remark it, even if I have to stay here and go through it word by word with you until you treat me fairly like a decent goddamn person–”

Ben’s shoulders slump, but strangely she’s the one who suddenly runs out of steam. He’s not looking at her anymore, choosing to stare at the floor instead as one hand nervously fiddles with the pen in his grip… and there, under his hand, laid out on his desk, is her midterm.

“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly she almost misses it, even in a room with absolutely no other sound. “You’re… you’re right. You deserve better, and I was being unfair. Childish and unprofessional and–” Ben sighs, and drags a hand over his face. “God, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll fix it right now, I was about to anyway, I regretted it the second I– Anyway, if you want to go to Holdo about this…”

She’s a little too hung up on childish and unprofessional to realize what he’s saying at first. What cause has she ever given him to be childish and unprofessional to her and her alone?

Unbidden, the image of Rose rolling her eyes flits into Rey’s mind – and with it, some of the last words they’d ever exchanged on the topic of one Ben Solo… and his hurt feelings.

Rey’s anger melts away, and so does a bit of the ice wall around her heart when she sees the way Ben is staring blankly at his desk, shoulders curved into themselves in absolute defeat and guilt and… maybe, just maybe, hurt.

His last words finally catch up to her, and she finds herself curling a hand around his shoulder before she’s even consciously aware of choosing to do so. “Just… just fix it, and don’t do it again,” she tells him softly.

Ben doesn’t turn to look at her, but she knows she’s not imagining the way he leans into her touch just the slightest bit. “Never again,” he vows and slowly, ever so slowly, turns around to look at her.

And something inside her, the same something that keeps her up at night with memories of him and reminds her of him at the oddest times and makes her heart ache as she looks at him now, compels Rey to hold out her hand and offer him a smile. “Truce?”

His hand shakes as he slowly reaches out to meet her. It makes no sense, the way her hand fits perfectly in his even though his absolutely dwarfs hers, but Rey manages to beat back an instinctive flare of irritation at the discovery and keeps her smile firmly plastered on instead.

“Truce,” Ben murmurs in agreement, and gives her a small smile in return.

She cherishes it more than she probably should, the lingering smile on his lips as they remain that way, hand in hand, until the sound of approaching footsteps snaps her out of the moment.

The sound of Poe’s voice hits her like a bucket of ice water, and Rey drops Ben’s hand as if she’s been burned, ignoring the way his face falls when she rips her hand out of his.

“Oh hey there, Rey!” Poe says cheerfully, heading straight for them. Thankfully she’s had her back to the door this entire time, conveniently hiding their hands from Poe’s view. “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods for once. What’s up?” he asks, throwing himself down onto a nearby chair and rolling it over to them.

“Just wanted to discuss my midterms with Ben, that’s all,” Rey tells him, summoning the most natural-feeling smile she’s capable of right now. “I was just about to head out, actually. I’ll see you at Taco Thursday?”

Poe nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. Finn won’t stop talking about it. Wait,” he suddenly says, turning to Ben with narrowed eyes. “You still haven’t gotten back to me on that! I’m not letting you bail on me again, buddy.”

Guilt slams into Rey like a freight train. She’s noticed Ben’s increasingly frequent absences at their group outings this month, but she’d desperately tried to protect herself from the truth by linking it to what Holdo had said about him being busy with his research this month. The way Ben’s eyes flit to her before he turns to Poe, though, tells her everything she needs to know.

“I’m sorry, Poe–”

“You should come,” Rey says before she can overthink it, before Ben misses out on yet another evening with friends just because of her.

He and Poe turn to her with matching looks of wide-eyed surprise, and the sight is enough to coax a real smile out of her.

“I should?” Ben asks.

Rey nods, ignoring the way Poe’s mouth is slowly curving into a grin as his eyes jump from one of them to the other as if he’s observing a ping pong match. “Yeah, definitely. It’ll be fun.”

She’d much rather focus on the way Ben’s smiling at her anyway, a genuine, fragile little thing full of hope and joy while he gives her the softest, warmest look she’s ever received.

“Okay,” he finally says.

“Okay,” she echoes, knowing that she’s smiling like a fool.

“Okay!” Poe cheers, pumping his fist for exaggerated effect. “Taco Thursday, here we come!”

“I’ll see you guys then,” Rey says with a little laugh, and waves goodbye at Ben even as Poe starts to talk his ear off about bro time and the idea of a taco competition and god knows what else.

He waves back, eyes on her until she finally, reluctantly turns her back to him and leaves the lounge. She walks for all of two minutes before she turns a corner and slumps against the wall, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to steady her racing heart and quell her wide grin.

Ben Solo might be a distraction, but the way he makes her feel… isn’t all that bad, Rey supposes. Maybe there’s some room for him in her life after all.

❄  ❄  ❄

Rey does not so much decide to let Ben into her life as she decides to just… allow it to happen.

True to their promise in the grad lounge, they fall into a tentative truce – and it’s almost as if the universe takes that as a sign and decides to run with it. Suddenly there are secret smiles shared in every single class, near-daily run-ins around campus that include friendly hellos, and, of course, an endless string of group outings organized by a gleeful Rose and a scheming Poe.

(Finn, bless his heart, simply tells her to trust her gut the day he finally catches on to what’s happening and leaves it at that.)

With each smile, each hello, each group brunch or lunch or dinner or happy hour that somehow always ends up with the two of them sitting and talking together… Rey feels every facet of her defense mechanism slowly melting away, leaving behind only her undeniable connection with Ben and the fact that he’s worth being attracted to, worth caring about, worth making herself vulnerable to and for.

She doesn’t really have the time or energy to do anything with that realization though, not with finals just around the corner. The last leg of the semester is an endless nightmare, with major papers due and ‘surprise’ revision quizzes and, of course, finals themselves.

There’s barely any time to eat, sleep, and breathe, let alone think and feel and reach out, until she makes it out of her last final the Friday before Christmas relatively unscathed. It’s been a miserable two weeks, but the relief of finally being done –for now – gives Rey a much-needed burst of energy to drag herself over to Maz’s later that day where everyone else is celebrating the end of finals and the semester as a whole.

She draws the line at dancing though, telling Finn and Rose that she can barely keep her eyes open when they try to pull her into the fray.

“You should’ve just stayed home,” Rose says with a concerned frown as Finn disappears to get her another round before they leave her to her own devices.

She would’ve, if not for the fact that this is probably her last chance to see Ben this year. She’s not all that familiar with the schedule for grad school, but surely even they get to go home for the holidays.

Rey doesn’t tell Rose any of this, though. “If I’d stayed home, I probably would’ve crashed for twenty-four hours straight or something like that,” she says instead, which isn’t all that far from the truth.

Finn returns with her drink a few minutes later, and the two of them fuss over her a little more until Poe and Ben show up.

He smiles at her, and Rey fights off the sudden and strong urge to curl into him and go to sleep in his arms.

“Perfect timing!” Finn says as he gives his boyfriend a quick kiss before Poe heads off to get drinks for Ben and himself. “Ben, you’re not much of a dancer, right?”

“That’s probably the understatement of the century,” Ben says in that dry way of his, drawing laughs from the rest of them. And then, before Finn can even ask, he nods. “You guys go ahead and have fun, I’ll sit with Rey.”

Rose and Finn need no further convincing, immediately disappearing into the crowd gathered in the center of the room. Poe stops by their table just long enough to drop off their drinks, and quickly follows suit.

And then, as is so often the case with these group outings, it’s just her and Ben.

“Too tired to dance?” he asks, moving closer to be heard above the crowd.

Rey slumps onto the table with her head cradled in her folded arms. “Finals broke me,” she mutters into her arm, not quite sure if Ben can even hear her.

He does, somehow, and gives her a quiet laugh in return. It warms her in all the right ways now, coaxing a slow, lazy smile from her as she turns to look up at him.

“I’m sure all of your hard work will pay off,” Ben predicts confidently, and Rey lets out a little hum in reply before they fall into a comfortable silence. She doesn’t fall asleep, can’t with all the noise in the background, but she closes her eyes for long stretches of time and pretends she doesn’t feel the warmth of Ben’s gaze on her every time she does.

It’s nice, what they have together. Warm and easy and comfortable, so comfortable that Rey isn’t really thinking straight when she allows a combination of exhaustion and alcohol and, quite frankly, affection and fondness and want to thoroughly lay waste to her verbal filter.

“I’m hostile toward people I want to fuck,” she finally admits, eyes half-closed and words more than a little slurred.

The booth seems to shake along with Ben when he startles at her blunt confession. “What?” he asks faintly, as though she’s knocked the wind out of him. She opens her eyes to find him staring at her all wide-eyed like a deer in headlights and shit, that shouldn’t be attractive but of course it is, everything about him is.

And the best part is, that’s just one of the many reasons why Rey somehow finds it within herself to shake off her exhaustion, pull herself upright, and finally take a leap of faith. “That was crude, sorry,” she says with a little smile, biting back a laugh at the way Ben just blinks at her.

“It’s just…” And this is the hard part, the bit she’s never actually put into words, not even for Finn and Rose, not even for herself, but for Ben she’s willing to try and finally make sense of it all, of the warped defense mechanism her childhood had forced upon her without her even consciously knowing it. “Where I grew up, how I grew up… I couldn’t have any distractions or weaknesses,” Rey begins, and finds the strength to go on in the way Ben hangs on to her every word like he actually cares, in the way he leans in and blocks out the rest of the world behind him so that she can share this secret with him and only him. “And for the longest time, my greatest weakness was wanting. There were… so many things I wanted, people above all. Parents and friends and just… someone who cared, that’s all.”

To his credit, Ben stays quiet and lets her go on even though it looks like it physically pains him not to say something at this point. He finds a nice compromise by placing one hand next to hers on the table in a silent offer, and Rey smiles as she takes him up on it and slides her hand into the familiar, comforting hold of his. “Eventually, I learned that having feelings for someone, wanting them, caring about another person’s opinion of me or even caring for another person period… all of that made me vulnerable, in one way or another. I learned that I couldn’t afford any of that, and so I trained myself out of it. I stopped wanting, stopped trusting…” she pauses, takes a shaky breath, “stopped feeling, for the longest time.”

And Ben, Ben just squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile and nods for her to go on.

“Then I moved here three years ago, and everything changed. Suddenly it was okay to like being around people and to want to make friends and even to want someone. But my brain didn’t quite get the message, I think,” Rey says with a laugh, “because whenever I do find myself attracted to someone – not that it happens often, I honestly can’t remember the last time before you –, I just get really, really weird and silly and pissed about it, like how dare you be appealing to me and make me feel things I didn’t ask to feel, and then…” She shrugs. “Well, you’ve seen firsthand how much of an asshole I can be when that happens.”

At some point during her word vomit Ben’s hand had grown slack in hers, and so Rey lets go and busies herself with peeling the label of his bottle while he processes her little – well, not so little – ramble.

It takes a while. Quite a while, really, so much so that Rey starts to wonder if she’s just made an absolute fool of herself by throwing caution to the wind just this once. Just as she’s about to give up and shut down and run away from him, though, Ben finally speaks.

“Um,” he says, and it’s the look in his eyes, uncertainty swirling with the slightest bit of hope, that keeps her in place even as he struggles to form more words. “Um, so you… does that mean… because you just said– And I’m not your TA anymore, you should probably know that, Amilyn and I finished grading the finals two days ago so… I mean… if you want…”

He sounds so hesitant and uncertain and shy, and Rey’s heart is so full of endearment and fondness and affection for this ridiculous man. She takes pity on Ben, figuring she owes him a break anyway, and finds enough courage for the both of them to take one last leap and ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Thankfully, he doesn’t leave her hanging this time. “Please,” he breathes almost immediately, almost reverently, and catches her as if he’s been doing it all their lives when she promptly throws herself into his lap. His lips are so soft, just as she’d known they would be, and at first he kisses her so sweetly it makes Rey’s heart ache. It doesn’t take long for him to get comfortable though, for him to coax her to part her lips while his hands settle around her hips, for him to make her heart race.

And Rey, Rey is living for this, has dreamed of it for far too long to even think of stopping him now, even as the loud music and endless chatter insist on reminding her of just where they are. It isn’t until Poe alerts them to his presence with a wolf whistle that they finally part, though Ben still keeps her firmly within his arms even as they turn to find all three of their friends staring at them with smirks of varying degrees.

“Get a room, lovebirds!” Poe finally cackles, prompting Finn and Rose to burst into laughter as well.

Rey waits for dread to put out the fire in her veins, waits for her instincts to kick in and attempt to extricate herself from the situation, waits for her automatic reaction of making up for a moment of weakness by turning herself into a fortress.

It never comes – not any of it, not even the slightest blush of humiliation. She relaxes into Ben’s arms as the realization finally washes through her and settles into her bones: it’s not a weakness, what she feels for Ben Solo. Frankly, it’s exhilarating.

On that note, she allows herself a smile so wide her cheeks hurt. “Great idea, Poe,” she says casually, and turns back to a grinning Ben. “What do you think?”

Ben leans down and gives her a chaste kiss. “Yes,” he murmurs against her lips, “yes to everything.”

And so, with the very, very vocal blessings of their far too enthusiastic friends, they make their way out of the cantina and into the night. And sure, it’s still really unfair for Ben to be so hot and smart and nice, for him to look the way he does as he drapes his coat around her before ushering her to his car, but funnily enough, Rey can no longer find it within herself to be annoyed by any of that.

Ben Solo might be the biggest distraction of her life, but that’s okay. The way he makes her feel is new and foreign and all kinds of wonderful, and Rey decides right there and then that she’s definitely going to keep him in her life.

❄  ❄  ❄

Hey, remember when I came back from hiatus last month and assumed at some point I'd get back into the swing of things and remember how this whole writing business works?

I have never been so wrong in my life. But I'm also having great fun stringing together words and stories even though I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, so at least there's that. Anyway, thanks for stopping by and I hope this was as much fun to read as it was to write! As always, please don't hesitate to like/reblog/leave a comment!

[varricmancer]

Lost And Found | 2

Pairing: Varric Tethras x OC

Word Count: 3,924

Summary: Instead of the nothingness she had craved, Crystal woke up in the world of Thedas. What had once been merely a story that she loved now seemed very real and she was right in the heart of it all. She soon finds a reason to live again and a love in the arms of someone as quietly broken as her.

Notes: Hey, look! It’s an update! Finding the time to write with an infant around is extremely difficult, but I didn’t want to abandon this story. I have so much of it thought up already in my head and it’s great, it’s just hard getting around to writing it all down lol. Most of my free time these days is spending trying to sneak in naps and showers when my baby is asleep. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this and please let me know how you think it’s going. 

Crystal had been completely lost in her work when a sudden cheer made her jump a little, spilling a bit of green sap across her hand. She was able to save most of the vial, thankfully, corking it and setting it aside before opening her door and peering out.

In the middle of the village was a small crowd of people cheering around a rather disgusting pile of dead rams. She did a quick count; ten, just like in the game. If the village did a good job smoking and curing some of the meat, they’d be able to have plenty to go around for a couple weeks at least. Coupled with the knowledge that The Herald would be clearing the area of danger soon, Crystal was able to take a deep breath, content now that she knew the village would be safe soon. The feeling of constant hunger was something she was never going to forget, and she really hoped to never feel it again.

She stepped outside, quietly shutting her door behind her and strolled towards the back of the crowd. She just wanted to get a peek of everyone before the judgemental stares and demands for her to prove she’s not a demon started.

The Herald turned out to be a human male, and he looked like the default version, meaning this was most likely Maxwell Trevelyan. She spots the dual daggers on his back and grins. He’s a human rogue Inquisitor, probably her most used playthrough. He was smiling gracefully as various people loudly proclaimed their thanks, but she could see the tension in his body, like he was holding himself back from making a run for it.

Cassandra was beautiful. The game certainly did not do her justice in the least. Her face was much more delicate and regal in real life; not even her scars distracted from it. Giles was chatting her up, and Crystal knew he could be a little longwinded at times. Cassandra’s lack of patience with him showed. She could practically see the Disgusted Noise subtitle above her head.

Solas was magnificent in his own way, of course. She hadn’t been sure how she’d feel about meeting him - knowing what she did about him - but there was no overwhelming urge to run for the hills. He was taller and more broad than any of the other Elven people she’d met here, but it was hidden well under the humble clothing he wore. She imagined she only noticed his difference from the others because she knew to look for it. She just hoped she could get him to fix her up before she freaked him out by accidentally letting him know that she was aware of his incredibly stupid plan.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t see through the crowd enough to catch sight of Varric, and no one seemed to be able to hear her whispered excuse me over the excited chatter. She sighed to herself, resigned that she’d have to wait until the crowd calmed down before she’d be able to beg for Solas to heal her. If she knew Giles or Mother Giselle, they’d probably bring the group to her soon enough, for different reasons of course. She snuck one last glance through the crowd and braced to leave when she felt someone stand next to her. 

“It’s always us short ones that get stuck in the back, huh?” 

Crystal bit back her excited grin as recognized the owner of that raspy voice, trying to appear calm and not totally embarrass herself by fangirling. She turned and was surprised to note that she and Varric were nearly eye to eye. He was just a touch shorter than her five feet. However, his dwarven bulk made him seem massive next to her. Just one of his biceps was probably half of her body weight. The only things that saved her from looking like a complete stick next to him were her generous top and bottom. 

She was also surprised how much more handsome he was in real life than in the game. There were slight grey streaks in his dark blonde hair and deep laugh lines around his eyes, showing his age, but he carried it well. His grin was warm, and even if his eyes were obviously cataloging everything about her and trying to figure her out, he gave off a kind air. She smiled shyly back, a blush growing on her cheeks as he continued to study her. She inhaled sharply as she recognized the interest in his eyes and felt an answering flutter in her chest, surprising herself.  

In all of her imaginings over the past few weeks about who she’d feel butterflies around when she met them, never had Varric even occurred to her. Sure, he was one of her favorite characters, but she’d figured she’d take one look at Cullen or Hawke and swoon. Instead, here she was blushing over freaking Varric Tethras, a smooth-talking and romantically unavailable rogue. 

In other words, just her type. You’d think now that she was living a whole new life in a whole new world she’d stop making life so hard for herself. At least this time she had the advantage of knowing he’d break her heart before she answered that spark of interest with one of her own. 

“Varric, there you are. They’ve invited us to eat with them before we leave. Come help me drink that bottle we found earlier...or stay and talk to the pretty little lady. Hello there. I’m Maxwell.” 

The Herald himself was standing in front of Crystal, her blush deepening as his eyes flittered back and forth between her and Varric. He looked her over curiously. 

“I must say, you are the most petite dwarf I’ve ever seen. Are you perhaps Elven blooded?” 

She snorted and grinned. “I’m not a dwarf. Just a very tiny human, I’m afraid,” she answered softly, smiled widening as Maxwell’s cheeks soon sported a blush of his own as he sputtered an apology. 

“Believe it or not, he does this often,” Varric chuckled. 

“It’s true, sadly,” Maxwell sighed wearily. “The first time I met a female Qunari was a disaster. I was just trying to be a gracious host and I asked her if she had her own attendants for her milking or if she needed us to assign some to her.” 

Crystal’s eyebrows rose in shock, a hand trying to contain her laughter. “You didn’t!” 

“I did. My Uncle always told me that the Qunari were related to druffalo, and since I’d never met any I didn’t know he was just being a racist ass. I was only saved from having to fight her because of our ambassador’s skill with words and the fancy new axe I got her.” 

She giggled and waved away any concern. “I promise I don’t require duels or weapons. It’s not the first time my height has been commented on.” 

“You’re the very soul of graciousness, Mistress...I didn’t catch your name.” Maxwell declared with an elaborate bow.

“Crystal,” she answered warily, knowing what was coming. 

“OH! You’re the girl they told us about! You were in the fade like me!” 

“So they tell me.” 

“You don’t remember either?” 

She shrugs, “Not really. I was...in a lake when I was surrounded by a green glow and it pulled me down. The next thing I recall was waking up and being told my arm broke falling out of a rift.” 

“You didn’t get a mark like mine?” 

“No, I’m afraid not.” 

Crystal chewed her lip thoughtfully before squaring her shoulders and blurting out, “I do have...knowledge, however. Um, like bits of insight into future events.” 

“Like a seer?” 

“Not quite. I can’t read minds or tell you what you’ll be doing thirty years from now, but I have some knowledge of past events and some coming events that will impact the inquisition.” 

“That’s incredible. You learned it in the fade?” 

“Uh...I suppose that’s possible. Look, I wasn’t sure that I was going to tell you about it at first, because this whole thing is terrifying. I know if I go with you and help with my knowledge, I’ll be right in the thick of everything, but I know I’ll be safer with you than out here in the wilderness on my own. If you can take me with you to Haven and promise protection then I’ll use what I know to help you succeed.” 

Maxwell nods and rubs his chin in thought, studying her.

“Not to be rude, but how do I know you have any of this foresight and are not simply trying to infiltrate the inquisition?” 

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t believe me either. Do you have a map of the area and maybe something to write with?” 

Maxwell nods and pulls out a weathered map on what she can only assume is some sort of animal skin. She wrinkles her nose and accepts it and the black chunk he hands her that she guesses she’s supposed to write with. She wasn’t very knowledgable about such things, but as long as it worked who cared. 

She lays the map out on a nearby stump, mumbling to herself as she tries to remember all the major points in the area. Unfortunately, there was quite a lot because The Hinterlands was huge, and she was sure there were at least a couple of things she forgot. She handed Maxwell the map with a sheepish grin and a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Alright. I’ve marked all the big events in the Hinterlands for now. First is the easy stuff. When you get to the horsemaster, you’ll learn that wolves have been attacking villagers. I’ve marked the spot on the map where there is a demon controlling them. Take out the demon and the wolves will go back to normal. Avoid the rift to the right of the river. The demons are too high level for you to deal with and they stay in that little corner anyway. You can get back to them later. Also, someone will ask you to find their missing druffalo. Up to you if you want to do that, but it is a good way to get on the people’s good side.” She shrugged but was pleased by the Herald’s expression. They may not believe her, but at least he was listening intently. 

“I’ve also marked the locations of the templar and mage encampments. Taking those out will stop the fighting so the people here will be safer. You’ll come across lots of mini quests along the way, and I’ve marked those as well. It’s up to you how much you want to accomplish now, although I suggest just dealing with the horses and encampments for now. You can always come back.” 

“That’s quite a lot of information, but nothing that someone with good intel and knowledge of the area couldn’t come up with,” Varric says with a tilt to his head, studying her curiously. 

“True. At the very least, I’m hoping this shows that I can be of some use. This alone probably just saved you weeks of drudging around. There’s nothing huge that I need to forewarn you of at the moment.” 

Maxwell frowns. “Why can’t you just write down what you know? We’d pay you for your services and you’d be free to stay here where it seems you have a home?” 

“Several reasons. One, this isn’t my home. Giles has been kind, but I am alone in the middle of the wilderness of a land that I don’t really know, sleeping in a house that is only available because the entire family died. I’d feel safer surrounded by people that my knowledge makes me familiar with. Two, I don’t really think just telling you everything right off would help. I...okay, so when you go into battle you fight as hard as you can because you want to win and protect your companions, correct?” 

Maxwell nodded, eyes trained on her as she explained. 

“Right. Well, would you fight as hard if you knew the outcome beforehand? Or would you go into battle thinking you had this in the bag and there was no point in giving your all?” 

“Potentially changing the outcome and losing or someone dying that shouldn’t have,” Varric rumbled thoughtfully next to her. Leave it to the writer to catch on. 

“Exactly. Everything I’ve read that mentioned having knowledge of the future follows the rule of not telling everyone everything about it so the future doesn’t get changed, and it’s cliche as hell, but it’s a cliche for a reason. I’ll happily tell you what I think would be safe to tell without changing anything, but there are a lot of things that actually depend on choices that you or others make. The fact that I’m even here already changes tons because I’m not supposed to be.” 

“What does that mean?” Maxwell asks with a raised brow. 

“Uh...it means that I already saw the next five years happen but I wasn’t a part of it until that rift threw me into the middle of a land I don’t belong in. That’s already changed a hell of a lot and I don’t know what kind of impact that’s going to have. Everything I know is a series of probabilities that can change based on choices. So while I may hope for one outcome and can try to counsel you to choose it, ultimately you can decide to do something totally different and change the future that I know.” 

“This is all giving me a headache,” Maxwell mumbles, rubbing his forehead. 

Crystal snorts.“Tell me about it.” 

“Basically,” she continues, “I’m one of the good guys and I’ll try to help as much as I can in return for protection. I’m not a fighter, nor do I have magic, so I’m alone and have no real way of keeping safe by myself here. Sounds pathetic, but...” she shrugs, trailing off to observe their faces. Maxwell and Varric both had their eyebrows raised as they silently conversed with a series of nods and expressions. She wouldn’t have thought they’d had enough time to bond enough to pull off that kind of thing, but they seemed to understand each other. 

“Alright, I can’t promise anything right this very moment,” Maxwell states as he crosses his arms. “You are of course welcome to come to Haven. We have all kinds of people just showing up there daily, so that’s not a problem. I believe the Mother is going there herself in a few days, so you could probably travel with her party if you wanted. We were heading over to the horsemaster’s tomorrow, and we’ll take all you’ve told us and the map markers into consideration during our journey. We should be able to get back to the Crossroads in about a week. If you’re still here and your information proved helpful, we’ll discuss taking you with us and talking to the other leaders. How does that sound?” 

Her shoulders drop as she sighs in relief. “Perfectly fair. I’ll probably stay until you guys get back. I don’t relish the thought of traveling with wagons full of sisters and Mother Giselle. They are best dealt with in small doses.” Varric snorts and the two of them share a small smirk. 

“We need you to meet the others in our party, so they know where the info came from. That’s okay, right?” Maxwell asks, already halfway to leaving.  

“As long as you are able to stop Cassandra from coming after me thinking I’m a demon or something.” 

Maxwell groans dramatically. “Ugh. I have experienced that Cassandra and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. No head lopping today.” 

He turns back to the party that had remained behind, yelling loud enough to be heard over the noise of everyone still celebrating. 

“Cassandra, Solas. Could you come here please?” 

They came forward, followed by Giles who had apparently noticed they were headed towards her and decided to take up his role of protector once more. 

He nods politely at Maxwell. “Ah, you found our Crystal. They bullying you, girl?” 

She grins softly, “No, Giles. I’m fine. Thank you.” 

“You’re the one they say came out of a rift as well?” 

Having Solas’s attention on her was terrifying, mostly because of what she knew of him but also a bit because she wasn’t sure what all he could see. 

“I am. Sorry, no mark,” she shrugs, noting his gaze wandering from her hands to any other visible bit of skin. 

“Crystal here has been very helpful and provided us with some information to help with our travels here, and we’ll be taking her to Haven with us when we get back,” Maxwell informs them, patting her shoulder. 

Cassandra studies her with a frown. “Are you certain that is wise? She could be a spy or even possessed.”

“We had plenty of people look her over, and she is just human. I’m afraid we didn’t even think about the possibility of her bein’ a spy. Doubt it though. She’s a good girl,” Giles adds helpfully.

“I’m not, but I’m sure Leliana will be able to figure that out.” 

Cassandra’s gaze sharpened as she stared at Crystal. “How do you know Leliana?” 

“Err, she says she knows things. Like a seer.” Maxwell explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Not like a seer. I’m not magic or whatever. I just...know things.” 

“Did you perhaps converse with anyone whilst you were in the fade?” Solas asks.  

“I don’t remember ever being in the fade. I just remember a green glow then I was here.” 

“Interesting,” Solas nods, his eyes piercing her as though she was a puzzle to solve. Crystal shifted nervously, not enjoying having the undivided attention of Solas on her. At any moment he could decide she was a threat to his plans. 

Giles must have interpreted her slight grimace to be one of pain because he suddenly pointed to Solas. 

“Oy, you with the stick. You can heal?” 

“Yes? I have some healing ability.” 

“Good. Do yer sparkle hands on our wee lass here. She’s been working hard with only one working arm long enough. Oh, and do ye still need help with the ribs too?” 

“Um, they are not as bad anymore. Although I would be very grateful for help with my arm. I...cannot pay you. I have nothing unless you’ll accept some healing potions I’ve made.” 

“Those will be appreciated.” 

“Here, sit lass. Is this going to hurt her?” 

“Not too much. The spell dulls the pain as it works.” 

Giles leads her to a stone step and stands at her side. She shakily begins to try taking off her sling but is surprised when Varric gently pries her hand away and begins untangling the knot himself. She smiles her thanks and relaxes a little as he works. He grimaces at the fading bruising around the wrist once he removes all the wrapping, then hisses in sympathy when she squeaks in pain as he helps to hold her shaking arm out for Solas to work on. 

Solas mutters some words and suddenly a green glow surrounds her arm, the bones rippling under her skin in a way that was both disturbing and fascinating. 

“That’s so weird,” she mumbles. It was like one of those horror movie scenes where someone had bugs or worms moving around under their skin. 

“There. It’s completely healed, but it will still be tender for a few days as you get used to using that arm again.” Solas states as the glow disappears and he backs away. 

Crystal flexes her fingers a few times, amazed that while her arm still felt weak and twinged with pain a little bit, she was still able to freely move it. 

“Thank you, Solas. I appreciate it,” She grinned. Potentially nutball of a God or not, he’d saved her months of recovery time. 

He nodded politely and rejoined his group that had been having their own private conversation while he’d been working, no doubt about her. 

“Does it feel better?” Varric asks, handing her a mug of something. She took a sniff and realized it was some sort of alcohol, but she wasn’t very knowledgeable about the different types out here. Some sort of mead if she had to guess. She shrugs and takes a big gulp, smacking her lips a little as she contemplates the taste. 

“Mmm, yeah. Won’t be able to punch with it for a while, but at least I can stop getting dressed onehanded,” she giggles. 

Varric smirks, “Well if you find that you still need help with that, let me know.” 

“Ah,” she shakes her head playfully, “If only you’d been here to make that offer yesterday. I was so desperate I probably would have taken you up on that.” 

His eyes shined mischievously as he shrugs. “Well, damn my luck.” 

“If you two are done flirting, we need to get going,” Maxwell chuckled as he strode towards them, smirking as Crystal’s blush darkened. 

Varric cleared his throat and stuck his hands into his pockets, stepping away from her a bit. She didn’t really like that, but she understood. 

“I hope you guys stay safe. Remember to take advantage of the spots I marked for setting up camps.” 

Maxwell nodded and grasped her hand, bowing over it slightly. 

“In case your advice proves handy, thank you in advance. We shall see you in a week.” 

Crystal nodded and smiled as he sauntered off to join the rest of his party. Varric takes a few steps before pausing, pulling something out of his pocket and tossing it towards her. She catches it easily in her right hand, light making the object glitter. It was some sort of crystal. She glanced up at him and quirked an eyebrow, wondering he was trying to make some sort of lame pun. 

“Not a joke, I swear,” he chuckles, palms raised. “In case the village gets attacked again while we’re gone, you can call us for help.” 

Oh. It was one of those. She couldn’t remember the name, but she could recall that was how Iron Bull and Dorian communicated in the game. 

“Thank you, Varric. I appreciate it,” She says softly, cradling it to her chest. 

He nods and does a little salute before he joins the others, leaving her to watch them grab their gear and a share of the cooked meat. She tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t look back again.  

She sighs and walks towards her hut, shaking her head at her foolishness. She couldn’t believe how easy it was for her to behave like a schoolgirl with a crush around Varric, even when she knew it was a very stupid thing to even think like that. She knew all about Bianca and his unhealthy attachment to her. One stupid girl from another realm or whatever wasn’t going to change anything. 

Besides, she had other things to worry about. Like staying alive. 

[what-even-is-thiss]

Fic, An Older Man

This takes place in my Shapeshifter au.

Buy the fanfic writer a coffee (ko-fi)

Warnings: None I think. Let me know if any are needed. 1,397 words.

Abstract: Roman is nosy, Virgil is paranoid, Logan can’t seem to get a real date, and Patton wants some dinner.

“That’s not possible” Logan said.

“But it is!” Roman insisted.

The tiny brown mouse sitting on Logan’s shoulder squeaked.

“He says you’re obviously lying.” Logan said.

“Alright, I am.” Roman said. “Possession isn’t possible, I just really like the idea of him, even if I went on the date looking like you.”

“He’s too old for you.” Logan said.

“Says you, Logan!” Roman said.

“Yes. Says me, Logan. He’s pushing the limits for me even. Would probably be comfortably in Virgil’s range though.”

The mouse screamed angrily.

“What? You’re four years older than me. That’s just a fact.” Logan said.

The mouse squeaked again.

“No, I don’t appreciate you tagging along.”

Logan grabbed the mouse off of his shoulder and placed him into Roman’s hands.

“Get him some clothes, and if either of you spy on me we will have a problem, understand?” Logan said sternly.

He walked out the door and to his car. Roman pulled a black veil brides t-shirt and a skinny pair of jeans his normal body was too thick for out of his dresser and tossed them into his closet along with a clean pair of underwear and the mouse. He closed the closet door and in a few seconds there was a yell and a thump.

“Dammit, the clothing rod!” Virgil yelled.

“Just get dressed, forest child. We have a blind date to spy on.” Roman said.

Virgil emerged from the closet in half elf half human mode with the pants on and the t-shirt in his hand. The lunar calendar tattooed around his torso was the only thing that could be considered a blemish on him.

“This shirt smells like sleep.” Virgil said, throwing it at him.

“Probably because I sleep in it.” Roman said, throwing it back with double force. “Forget your superstitions for two seconds, he’s getting away!”

Virgil pulled the shirt on.

“Do you have any size eights?” He asked.

Roman looked in his closet.

“Sandals or sneakers?”

“What color are the sneakers?”

“Pink and blue. The sandals are brown.”

“I’ll take the sandals.”

Virgil caught the sandals and hopped into them on the way out the door.

“Roman, who is that?”

“Mother, I don’t have time for this, I Love You I’ll explain later, farewell!”

“Roman!”

Virgil threw open the door of Roman’s suv and slammed the door shut. A Latino guy around Roman’s height got into the drivers seat.

“You sure that’s how you want to look when you’re driving fast?” Virgil asked.

“Racist.” Roman said, starting up the car.

“Just saying, cops are assholes and you live in a neighborhood called ‘the dominion’” Virgil said opening the glove box. “You’re still wearing the same clothes anyways. He’ll recognize you.”

“Fine.” Roman said. “Guess we’re doing this in hard mode.”

His skin lightened and his frame thickened and in a second he looked like himself again as he backed out of the driveway. Virgil kept looking through the glovebox.

“Would you stop looking through that? You’re making me nervous.” Roman said, changing gears.

He slammed on the accelerator and Virgil was thrown back in his seat.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!” Virgil yelled.

“Sorry not sorry stay out of my glovebox.” Roman said, taking a corner a bit too tight.

“I know you have makeup in there.” Virgil said, going back to it. “In species shapeshifters always do.”

“That is such a stereotype. I can’t believe you would…”

“Found it.” Virgil said, pulling a sparkly red bag out.

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Roman said.

“Mmmm hmmmmm.” Virgil said, sifting through the fifteen different shades of foundation to get to an eyeshadow palette.

Logan’s car came into view. Roman switched lanes and slowed down. He noticed Virgil rubbing eyeshadow under his eyes with his finger.

“You are such a heathen.” He said.

“Works for me. Don’t lose him.” Virgil said, inspecting his eyes in the flip-down mirror on the sun shade.

They pulled onto the freeway and Virgil messily stuffed the makeup back in the glovebox. Roman tried to stop his eye from twitching as he got into the carpool lane.

“What do you think he looks like?” Roman asked.

“Nobody gave any specifics. They just have a location to meet in and a promise that they have a lot in common, which is how murders happen but whatever.” Virgil said.

“You’re paranoid.” Roman said.

“Okay yeah I’m paranoid. I hate the idea of Logan on a blind date with an older dude. Like, I dunno. What if he’s clingy? What if he has a gun? What if he kisses without asking first? What if Logan gets hurt right in the middle of the restaurant? He’s not wearing a jacket since we came back to Florida. What if memories have to get wiped again? He’s already…”

“Woah, slow down there Phantom of the obvious. That’s all really unlikely.” Roman said.

Virgil took a breath. “I know. I just worry. A lot.”

They pulled into the back entrance of the parking lot that Logan had gone in.

“I tailed him as a mouse for a while. He doesn’t know I heard about the meeting place.”

“Well what was the meeting place?” Roman asked, pulling into a parking spot.

“Near the kitchen entrance.”

They unbuckled.

“Do you think you could turn into a fly or something?” Roman asked.

“Absolutely not. I hate being an insect. Can’t figure out how to see anything.” Virgil said.

Roman sighed loudly as they got out of the car.

“Why can’t I use the emergency girl kit in the trunk?” he said as loudly as he dared.

“Your tricks only work on people that don’t know about shapeshifters and you know it.” Virgil hissed. “Come on, I can smell him.”

“Oof. I always forget about the elf half.” Roman mumbled under his breath as Virgil smelled the air.

They ducked into bushes behind the restaurant. The big metal doors for letting in delivery trucks were closed tight. The high windows over them would never let anyone inside see the two men standing flush against them. Just talking.

“They’re in an awkward situation.” Roman said.

“What?” Virgil said. “How can you tell?”

“They don’t like each other.” Roman said.

“They’re laughing though.” Virgil said.

“Awkwardly laughing.” Roman said. “They know each other.”

Virgil shifted, becoming even thinner. His ears became more pointed, his limbs longer. Into the range of almost human proportions but not quite. He leaned forward, full elf with elfen vision. His voice came from a quieter place.

“They have a similar look in their eyes.” Virgil said.

“Anything else?” Roman asked.

Virgil sat back on his haunches and became human. He looked like he was holding back a laugh.

“They’re related.” he said.

Roman smiled. “Oh, that is funny. Poor nerd, he was probably hoping for this to go somewhere.”

“Danger of blind dates I suppose.” Virgil said. “Well I’m satisfied. Let’s go to my house. I need real clothes.”

“Only if I get to sift through your magic rocks.”

“Only the ones without chains that aren’t on an altar.”

“Deal.”

Logan started to go inside with his “date”

“See, I thought you looked familiar.” Logan said as they sat down.

“I spend soooo much time on facebook, Logan. Your mom posts the weirdest things.”

“Some of them about me, I’m guessing.” Logan chuckled.

“We hadn’t really heard from the Roberts in so long. I’m really excited to see you! Even if... it was this you know.”

“Objectively awkward.” Logan said. “Second cousins on a date.”

Patton cleared his throat and twitched a little.

“Are you okay?” Logan asked.

“Oh, that just happens sometimes. Hey look, they have veal!” Patton said, opening the menu quite suddenly.

Logan looked down at his menu.

“No, they do not. Patton, if you need to leave...”

Patton’s hair seemed to turn red for a second before turning back. Patton continued looking at his menu.

“Patton, I saw that.” Logan said.

“Saw what, Logan? What are you talking about? Ooohhh. Alfredo.”

Logan leaned down to roll down his sock and then found Patton’s leg under the table. He was wearing cargo shorts. Good, that would make this easy.

He looked over his shoulder to double check nobody was looking and then pressed the side of his leg against Patton’s. Patton looked up on instinct and then his eyes seemed to fill with stars and his hair turned red in surprise.

His own face was looking back at him, with Logan’s glasses on it.

[magic5ball]

Jurassic Park 4: Doki Idol Live Festival!

The two velociraptors stood outside a pastel colored town house in Hokkaido prefecture, Japan. If any passerbys thought that was weird, they certainly didn’t show it. Probably because the raptors were wearing fedoras and fake mustaches, so they looked like humans. Also they had guns. Very cool, very intimidating mobster guns. A tommy gun and a sawed-off shotgun, respectively.

You needed guns, to survive Shinzo Abe’s little empire of vice and socialized medical care.

“So this is the place, huh?” muttered the velociraptor carrying the sawed-off shotgun. His thick Brooklyn accent hung in the air like concrete. “Kinda… frillier than I was expecting.”

“It better be.” Replied his companion, who sounded like your racist conservative uncle trying to impersonate that one cool guy from ‘The Godfather’ (You know, the one with the mustache who was played by Robert de Niro). “We hadda kill a whole lotta people to get this hellhole.”

Sawed-off shotgun licked his non-existent lizard lips

“But hey. That airplane stewardess tasted mighty fine goin-“

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, would ya stop thinkin’ with your stomach and help me with this f*ckin’ knob!” cried tommy gun, trying to work the doorknob best he could with his raptor claws, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much, because raptor claws are terrible at operating things meant for human fingers. Little did he know, the door was a ‘pull’, not a ‘push.

At least he didn’t have to wait long before someone unlocked the door from the other side: another velociraptor, this one a bit on the short side. And p!ssed. Very, very p!ssed. You could tell he was the cool one because he wore an eyepatch over one eye. An eyepatch with a Captain Underpants logo on it.

“Didn’t your parent’s ever teach you idiots about using the doorbell?! I was just about to enjoy lunch with my beautiful wife and you-!“

He paused, recognizing the two figures facing him.

“Well, well, well” Said tommy gun, cocking his weapon “If it isn’t SWEET JOHN HAMMOND’S BALLSACK WHAT THE F*CK AM I LOOKING AT?!”

For the cool raptor was dressed in a gothic Lolita maid outfit, complete with a bonnet and penny loafers. Under his arm he carried a human sized pillow depicting what appeared to be a blonde floozy with massive tits.

“Oh this? This is Mami Tomoe, my beautiful wife.”

“WHAT THE F*CK!?!?” Tommy gun pulled out a flask off orange Fanta from his butthole and drank the whole thing in one go. He did NOT have time for this homosexual weeaboo nonsense! Still, he and shotgun hadn’t left a mountain of corpses the exact height and width as Mt. Fuji behind them. Too many to go back to Isla Nublar empty handed. Er, clawed. Because they were dinosaurs. Who have claws.

Shotgun took a deep breath. “What the Boss means to say is, ‘May we take refuge in this fine establishment?’”

Cool raptor opened his mouth to reveal a pistol he’d hidden there. And by hidden I mean replaced his tongue with it.

“You know, for all crap you guys used to give me in the past, I oughta pump you full of lead right here and now. Buuutttt… the lady of the house is present, and I’m not in the mood to create more work on her end. So come on in! You’re just in time for lunch.”

Lest they attract unneeded attention, the three dinosaurs hopped inside.

.   .   .

Lunch was omurice boba tea with a bottle of teriyaki sauce on the side. It was just boba tea, but the boba had been replaced by omurice because F-Bomb hated the flavor of boba, which he likened to rabbit crap. The teriyaki sauce was teriyaki sauce.

It was the most racist thing shotgun had ever eaten.

“Well, now that you jerks have gotten a taste of my sloppy seconds, I suppose some introductions are in order. You’ve already met my lovely wife” Cool raptor gestured to the body pillow seated next to him “So that leaves you two. Mami, meet A-Hole and D-Bag. A-Hole’s got the tommy gun, D-Bag is ridin’ her sawed off shotgun, as always. They’re old… acquaintances of mine.”

“He.” Corrected D-Bag. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns six months now.”

“Well that’s an improvement. Now instead of bein’ the Boss’ side B!tch literally, you’re just his b!tch figuratively!”

“Well screw you too, F-Bomb!” laughed the boss. “An’ speakin’ of screwing, what’s with the fruity get up? You a prostitute now or something?”

“Even better! This might surprise you, but I’ve got legitimate work now. This here’s my uniform, my uniform for MILF TIDDIES!”

A-Hole chugged his entire bottle of teriyaki sauce in one go, lest his mind implode from the sheer stupidity of that sentence.

“The Hell’s a milf tiddie!?”

“Only the best freakin’ maid café in Hoikaido, hookers!”

He gestured to a wall, covered in hundreds of photos of cute floozies dressed like they were attending a vampire’s funeral. Among them was a photo of F-Bomb in his drag, serving a deep fried hot dog to some elderly Japanese dude.

“As you can see, yours truly is serving Japan’s national desert to none other than 57th Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe!”

“Hold it up. Youse been hobnobbing it with politicians?!”

“I wish! You’re thinking of Shinzo Abe, 57th Prime Minister of Japan. This guy is his twin brother. Still pretty sweet though. We DID win a Grammy for that, after all.”

A-Holes eyes bulged out of his scaly raptor head.

“YOUSE WON A GRAMMY FOR THAT?!”

“Dang right! Milf Tiddies has won sixteen Grammys since I started working there!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. A very special piece of paper, if the six holes punched into it were any indication. “Did you know that if you win ten Grammys in a row, they give you a free orphan? That’s how the wife and I got our glorious daughter, Lil’ Nagisa!”

F-Bomb pulled a faded photo out of his wallet. A photo showing himself, his pillow wife, and a smaller body pillow of a ten-year-old moeblob wearing a Green Bay Packers cheesehead helmet.

“So youse couldn’t even conceive your own kid?” Inquired D-Bag sexily. He was munching his omurice slowly, so F-Bomb knew he was being serious.

“Are you implying I have sex with my own wife, you sick freak?! I’m a weeaboo, not some degenerate anime fanboy! Get it straight!” He instinctively cocked the pistol in his throat. It was awesome as hell.

In response, D-Bag pumped his shotgun. Loudly.

“Permission to put the sick freak out of his misery, Boss?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Boss when we’re not having anal sex. Second, no can do, my spicy lover. We need F-Bomb alive.”

F-Bomb heard all of this even though A-Hole whispered it, but he pretended not to make A-Hole feel clever.

D-Bag mumbled about how the Boss was lucky he was so mind blowing in the sack, otherwise he would have left the relationship long ago. The sack in this case being a really kinky sex dungeon. Like really kinky. So kinky even Donald Trump wouldn’t go within a mile of it. D-Bag had almost died of autoerotic asphyxiation more times than I’ve gone to the bathroom in my lifetime. That’s why he was the smartest dinosaur out of the three of them. Now where was I again?

Anyway, F-Bomb interrogated

“Alright guys, what’s the deal? I know folks who come to this socialized medical care infested hellhole, and they don’t come here just to eat omurice boba tea. You WANT me for something.”

He cocked his mouth-pistol again. Sparks flew all over the carpet, which was made of alpaca fur so it didn’t catch fire.

A-Hole scandalously kept his cool.

“It’s about Isla Nublar.”

The second those words left A-Hole’s lips, F-Bomb escorted his wife out of the kitchen, but leaned her against the kitchen door, because that’s what she would have wanted.

“Well what about it? I told ya guys, I’m done with that dump.”

“They’re puttin’ the screws on us, F-Bomb. Making us pay for eating those tourists back in the nineties.”

“And what makes you think I care? Like I said, I’m done with that place. I got a wife and kid now.”

“But F-Bomb, doesn’t the Park mean ANYTHING to ya!? What about the time we ate that park ranger that called you a girl? ‘Better than sex’ I recall you saying.”

“Nice try, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get misgendered again. Don’t you guys got any ideas that don’t involve me?”

“As a matter of fact, yours truly had this really spectacular one!”

D-Bag did a hand gesture wherein he constantly crossed his dinosaur claws across his throat rapidly in quick succession. A-Hole, being very smart, knew this meant he should continue, loudly enough so that everyone in the prefecture could hear.

“It was called ‘Trump Ballz’. We’d harvest Donald Trump’s testicles, see, and sell them to the highest bidder, so they could do whatever people do with lopped off testicles. I’m not one to judge. It was a terrific idea. I know because when I told my best friend Donald Trump about it, he said, ‘A-Hole, this is an incredible idea. Absolutely terrific! This is probably the best idea in America! You are very smart, very intelligent dinosaur! I oughta buy you a prostitute!’ Of course, we didn’t realize that Trump’s ballz don’t grow back when you lop them off. Did you know that by the way? Human testicles don’t grow back-“

F-Bomb cocked the pistol inside his throat gain, getting the Boss to shut up. This was probably the most heroic thing anyone had ever done in the history of the universe. He also asked a question:

“SO WHAT THE HECK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!”

A-Hole vomited a severed arm and a pamphlet onto the table.

“EVERYTHING, ya WEEB trash!”

The pamphlet was for something called the Doki Idol Live Fest- DILF, for short. F-Bomb was no stranger to the DILF, but they had parted ways years ago. Six, to be exact, when he had buried Nico Yazawa’s still screaming corpse by the side of the highway. And neither was he stranger to the prize.

It looked like a beer and soda drinking baseball cap, but only to complete idiots who didn’t know crap about the Idol Life.

And F-Bomb wasn’t one of those people, er dinosaurs.

“THE MCGUFFIN OF SIN?!”

“Dam* straight! And like it or not, youse the only one with enough idol know-how to help us win it! Thing’s worth, like, a zillion dollars.”

A zillion in this case was equivalent to half a million. Still, isn’t that impressive?

F-Bomb stuck his nose in his omurice and snorted, a common intimidation tactic among velociraptors. I know because I read  it in the Scientific American.

“Sorry, guys, but even with that on the line, no can do. I’m DONE with the Idol Life, any I’m not letting you filthy casuals drag me back in.” He cocked the pistol in his throat. “NOW SCRAM!”

A-Hole and D-Bag jumped out a window, so they could get the jump on a feral dog humping its’ owner. Nobody realized they were dinosaurs because of their fake mustaches, so it looked like a pair of mobsters were eating a puppy.

When they were gone, F-Bomb pranced to the bathroom, which was filled with plush alpacas he had collected over the years. So many, in fact, the bathroom did not meet OSHA compliance. Which was why F-Bomb had made it an independent nation state, only to realize that OSHA didn’t apply to him anyway, since he lived in Japan.

He had felt really stupid after that, but at least he got his own country out of it.

Anyway, he vomited sixteen liters of blood into the sink, for F-Bomb had a secret: he was dying. Back when he was a fetus in an egg in a lab on some island in the Caribean, he’d become addicted to the illegal street drug known as WEEB, and frequent use had poisoned his lungs. The doctors had given him Socialized Medical Care and four more years to live. The WEEB had taken eighty years off his life. Socialized Medical Care had borrowed his lawnmower and never given it back.

But F-Bomb also had a dream: he and his wife were going to build their own maid café, and it would be even better than MILF Tiddies. He’d already picked a title: DILF Tiddies, and it was going to be the greatest food-selling establishment in the history of Japan. Omurice boba tea was going to go global. But he’d never get the funds on time, not on his meager salary. Unless…

His beautiful wife greeted him as he exited the bathroom.

“Get a pen and some razor blades, sweetgums. I’ve got a letter to send.”

                                                     .   .   .

The message arrived in the neck of a mailman’s severed head. This is the traditional way velociraptors send letters to each other. I read it in a book.

D-Bag didn’t see the letter, but the look on A-Hole’s face told him everything.

“What’d I tell ya, D-Bag? Like I always say, when you’re dino you’re dino all the way, till youse dead in the ground or youse come out as gay!”

“Yeah, we really need to update those lyrics.”

End Chapter 1

[meteora-writes]

To Be Alone With You

Paring: Nick Clark x Troy Otto (With some minor background Nick x Luciana bits)

Warnings: Shared Fantasies AU, Mostly Canon Compliant, Fluff, Kisses, Hugging, Kinda Romantic Fantasies, Cuddling, Hurt Comfort, 5+1 Format, Angst, Happy Ending

Authors Notes: So I got the idea for this from reading a really cool Teen Wolf fic that takes place in a world where when you fantasize about someone they feel it. At the end the amazing Author said if you wanna use the verse they made to go for it. So here we are!

Fic that inspired this is called (not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit 

~~~~~

~1

The first time it happens Nick is laying in his bunk on the first night they're all together at the ranch. He feels a chapped pair of lips brush against his own in a soft, hesitant kiss, and he just blinks in surprise at the phantom touch. Because while he's used to being the object of a fantasy, has been the object more times than he can count, it's the middle of the damn apocalypse and he hasn't felt something like this in over a month.

The feel of the lips returns a beat after they disappear and now there's a hand gently holding his right cheek. If the size of it is anything to go on, then it's another man that's fantasizing about kissing him right now. As much as he hates to admit it, given that he's on a ranch full of racist rednecks that wanted him dead a day ago, it's surprisingly nice. Sweet even. Whoever it is genuinely just want's a tender moment with him and he can feel it in the way they're going about this fantasy.

There's a hand on his left side now, warm as it slips around the small of his back to pull him flush against the frame of someone slightly taller and broader than him. Definitely a man. The fantasy doesn't go beyond them holding each other and sharing soft kisses. It's oddly pleasant, he thinks, given most people who are so brazen as to fantasize about another person like this would be fantasizing about things more heated and explicit. He can't remember every experiencing a fantasy like this before. Not even as an innocent young teen.

A few moments later the fantasy has ended and Nick finds himself trailing the tips of his fingers over his lips as he wonders who the hell could have been thinking about him like that in a place like this. Instead of dwelling on it he heaves a sigh and rolls over to try and get some sleep.

~2

The second time it happens is after his little hunting trip with Troy and the militia. He's just got back to the bunk house from trying to help put out the fire they came home to find, and he smells of smoke and earth and he thinks maybe a little hint of Troy's aftershave from their scuffle.

He's standing in the shower when he feels phantom limbs wind their way around him from behind and pull him against a frame that feels like the one from the last fantasy. They're both fully clothed, and whoever it is that's holding him just rests their chin on his shoulder and heaves what feels like a heavy sigh as he relaxes against Nick.

Nick feels the fantasy version of himself place his hands on the arms around him and lean back into the embrace, his head lolling back to rest on the other man's shoulder. He feels the movement and rumble of the person holding him as he speaks; no sound coming as fantasies don't have sound for the object of them, but he thinks they're probably talking about what happened tonight with the fire, as he feels their hold tighten and a slight tremble that runs through their frame.

He feels a kiss on the cheek before the fantasy ends. Whoever this dreamer is has facial hair, he notes as he brings a hand up to touch his cheek where he can still feel the phantom brush of lips and whiskers. With a shake of his head he goes back to washing up, the waters already run cold and he just wants to go to bed.

~3

The third time it happens Nick is curled up in bed with Luciana, unable to sleep because his mom and the militia should have been back hours ago. He's lying on his back, Luciana curled at his right side with her head on his shoulder and an arm over his waist. He nearly jumps out of bed when he feels himself being pulled into a tight hug.

It's definitely the dreamer from the last two times. And they're wearing what feels like the tactical gear the militia wears. Almost as if they realized their clothes would be a giveaway, the bulky gear is gone and Nick is being hugged tightly to a chest clad in just a soft t-shirt now. They have their face tucked down into the crook of Nick's neck and they're saying something. The version of himself that the person is imagining hugs back, rubs at his back reassuringly.

Like the previous fantasies it's short, sweet, and leaves him with an odd feeling of comfort he hasn't gotten from anyone else touching him since Gloria was alive. It makes him wonder who his dreamer is, and why they're only thinking about these kinds of things from him. Wonder what's going on with this guy that he sees Nick as someone he can seek comfort from. Especially when the whole ranch knows about him and Luciana.

Almost as if she knows she's being thought about, Luciana curls closer to Nick and mumbles something in Spanish in her sleep. Nick doesn't catch it, but it's enough to get him to drop his train of thought and focus on the living, breathing woman that's the whole reason he's there in the first place. He falls asleep with both arms around her and a promise to do something about whoever is dreaming about him the next time it happens.

~4

The fourth time, Nick is handcuffed to a cot in the med tent; sick and delirious with fucking smallpox like the rest of the remaining militia. He feels phantom hands stroking through his now short cut hair and it doesn't even surprise him. He leans into the not-really-there touch, wishing someone was there doing it for real. The dreamer is picturing them side by side in what feels like a large bed. The blankets and pillows feel so soft compared to the real ones Nick has and he honestly for a moment wishes this was real. He lets his eyes slip closed as he sinks into the feeling of safety and comfort from the fantasy.

The hand in his hair continues to stroke in a slow, soothing way that lulls Nick into the first real sleep he's gotten since Luciana left. He doesn't count passing out from sickness as getting real sleep. He relaxes and nods off so quickly that he doesn't notice Troy watching him with a small smile from the other end of the tent where he's supposed to be listening to Jake talk about their options for dealing with the dead.

~5

The fifth time it happens is the night after Nick shot Jeremiah. He's drunk; having stolen a bottle out of Jeremiah's kitchen on his way out the back door. He drank a third of it that night and he drank another third tonight. He's lying on the makeshift bed on the floor of his little half fixed-up house when he feels his dreamer wrap around him and bury his face in Nick's neck.

For a moment Nick is so tempted to let himself just go with it like he has the other times, but right now his mind is telling him he doesn't deserve even the comfort of human contact, even from a fantasy. Not after what he's done. Greater good or not he did kill a man.

So, he focuses on the memories he has of the body that's currently holding him, gets a vague mental image of a shadowy shaped like the man he feels but can't see, and he pushes them off of him. Not hard, but just pushes. Thinks of them stumbling back a step.

In an instant the fantasy is over and he's alone in his cold bed with nothing but the light of a dwindling candle and his stolen bottle of whiskey to keep him company.

~ +1

Troy is walking through the desert, the exhaustion and the ache in his hand a constant reminder of what he's lost as he moves father and father from the only home he's ever known.

It's the morning after he was banished, and he's so tired, but he can't stop. The sun is climbing high and if he lies down now he will be cooked. In every sense of the word. So, he walks on.

All of the sudden he comes to a stop when he feels shaky hands grabbing his right hand weakly. He feels himself kneeling, one hand on what feels like a metal door frame as someone grabs his outstretched right hand like it's a lifeline.  

A moment later the fantasy version of himself is pulling those hands forward and now both his hands are moving quickly. They work to untie a rope around the wrists of the hands that had grabbed him, and in that moment it hits him.

Nick.

This is Nick fantasizing about him. Nick, who he overheard was going to be locked in a metal box and left for bake for two days as his punishment for helping Troy, because Madison refused to let him be banished too.

In the fantasy, he's finished untying Nick's hands and he's pulled the younger man into his arms now. He'd pictured holding Nick nearly half a dozen times now, but this is so different. Fantasy Troy is still kneeling, holding Nick close as the younger man clings to him desperately.

Nick is mumbling against Troy's throat, his grip loosening like he's about to fall away. Sure enough the fantasy fades a moment later and Troy is left standing stunned. Logically, he knows it's most likely that Nick just passed out. After all, he's in a fucking metal box that's heating up as the sun climbs higher. It knows that he'll be let out that evening and he'll be a little worse for the wear at first, but he'll live.

The illogical side of Troy is what has him turning on his heel and heading in the direction that he knows is home. Because even with driving him hours into the desert, he can always find the ranch. It's his home, after all. And while he knows going there is a death sentence, Nick needs him. Nick called out to him, and he'll be damned if he abandons Nick after what Nick did to save him. His father's blood on Nick's hands doesn't change how he feels about him in the end.

Sneaking onto the ranch was easy. The militia too busy watching Walkers men to watch the fences. So, at roughly 3pm Troy made his way across the now vacant cattle fields and over to the metal box that had been built to house Nick for his punishment. There wasn't even a damn guard posted to make sure he was still alive.

For a moment he wondered if the lack of a guard meant they'd already taken Nick from the box, but a thud and small groan from inside made him think again. He made his way around to the front of the box and broke into a smile at the site of a disoriented but alive Nick looking out at him through a little viewing window.

"Hey, Nicky. You miss me?" He asked as he started to unlatch the door.

A groan escaped Nick's lips and he blinked at Troy's like he wasn't sure of what he was seeing. "You're not real..." He mumbled dismissively, letting his eyes slip closed again.

The metal door swung open with a screech, and Troy found himself kneeling much like he had in Nick's fantasy. "Hey, look at me. I'm real." He said, holding his hand out for Nick to take. " Come on, let's get you out of here."

Nick's eyes cracked open again and he took another hazy look at Troy. "You were banished... They took you out n' left you... Just my mind tryin' to give me false hope..." He said before turning a bit so he was wedged in a corner as his eyes slipped closed again.

With a chuckle Troy reached in and took Nick's hands in his. He took a moment to stroke them, getting Nick to open his eyes again and really look at Troy as he began to untie the ropes that bound his wrists. "You had a fantasy this morning of me saving your ass." Troy said matter-o-factly as he finished removing the last loop of rope before tossing it aside.

"I hallucinated that..." Nick mumbled, eyes glued on where Troy held his hands and rubbed at his aching wrists soothingly. "S'not the same as a fantasy...Y'don't share that shit..."

Troy shook his head fondly. "Well whatever it was I felt it. It was something you wanted or I wouldn't have been hit with it in the middle of the damn desert." He said before pulling Nick out of his corner and into a hug. He made sure to be gentle, not wanting to hurt Nick in his weakened state.

After a beat of tension, Nick melted against Troy and wrapped his arms loosely around the other man. "It was you..." He mumbled into Troy's neck as Troy pulled him close. "The fantasies... They were yours..."

Troy nodded, only letting himself have a moment to enjoy this. "Come on. We gotta get you outa here and get water and supplies. There's an old barn a mile out that we don’t use anymore, I keep a truck there for emergencies. I figure we got just enough time to get there and GTFO before they realize you’re gone." Troy explained as he moves to stand, pulling Nick up with him and keeping his arms around him to keep him steady on his feet.

"Yeah?" Nick asked, blinking at Troy, more focus coming to his eyes now. "Okay... I have a couple jugs of water n some food at my house... " He said, giving a nod more to himself than Troy. "You seriously want me to go with you?" He asked, not meeting Troy's gaze now.

"I just risked my own ass to come spring you from being roasted like Sunday dinner. You think I'd do that if I didn't want you with me, Nicky?" He asked, smiling in a way that made his dirt smudged face look young and a little goofy.

Nick smiled back after a beat. "Alright, let's go." He said, slinging an arm up over Troy's shoulder. "Y'gotta help me though."

With a chuckle Troy helped Nick sneak to the other end of the ranch where his little unfinished house sat unwatched and out of sight of the rest of the ranch. After taking a break to both get a drink and something to eat they wrapped everything they needed up in a blanket and left without being seen or heard from again.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, 4: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.

A solid blue, metal sphere, one inch in diameter, with three parallel grooves around the circumference

A sphere of crystal with a tiny shard of obsidian at the exact centre.

A spinning top with an image of one of the four elements on each side.

A sprig of heather that never seems to wilt.

A squat metal tin full of brown powder that always feels cold to the touch, regardless of the temperature.

A statuette of a small dwarf-like creature, it’s pose and demeanour seem to change, but only when it is unobserved.

A steel bowl covered in ornate designs depicting hill giants in combat with dwarves.

A stick of blue chalk that fluoresces in moonlight.

A stick of bright green sealing wax that smells like rosemary.

A stone carving of a piece of bacon.

---Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

---Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A solid blue, metal sphere, one inch in diameter, with three parallel grooves around the circumference

A sphere of crystal with a tiny shard of obsidian at the exact centre.

A spinning top with an image of one of the four elements on each side.

A sprig of heather that never seems to wilt.

A squat metal tin full of brown powder that always feels cold to the touch, regardless of the temperature.

A statuette of a small dwarf-like creature, it’s pose and demeanour seem to change, but only when it is unobserved.

A steel bowl covered in ornate designs depicting hill giants in combat with dwarves.

A stick of blue chalk that fluoresces in moonlight.

A stick of bright green sealing wax that smells like rosemary.

A stone carving of a piece of bacon.

A stone figurine of a snake that changes positions after every full moon.

A stone tablet that has been defaced and re-inscribed many times as new religions have overtaken the area.

A stone that feels very heavy, yet floats effortlessly.

A stone with odd indentations, that seem to spell out a message of some kind.

A strange idol of blackened glass that sometimes glows with an inner blue light.

A stuffed and preserved head of a gnoll.

A suit of armour made from oak wood, sized for a doll, painted in vivid red and black.

A surprisingly realistic replica of a rakshasa hand.

A tapestry depicting a mythological scene.

A tattered page torn from a larger manuscript that seems to portray an ancient battle and the rise of a king.

A thick black cowl that has the smell of damp earth lingering about it.

A thimble on which is an enamel painting of a turtle

A thin tube of iron filings with the seal of a noble house on both ends.

A three foot long tusk of a great beast, fashioned into a spiralled horn that produces an odd piping sound when blown.

A tin of purple powder, when the powder comes into contact with blood it glows for ten minutes.

A tin whistle on a chain, with a single goose feather attached to it.

A tiny box that contains a model chair.

A tiny carved skull with jewels in its eyes. You have a feeling like someone is watching you whenever you hold it.

A tiny doll depicting a blonde, blue eyes child, when placed down it’s eyes appear to follow people.

A tiny doll made out of straw, when not observed, it’s clothes change to match those of the person possessing it.

A tiny metal shard that floats on water.

A tiny painting showing a vulture carrying a bone in its beak.

A tiny rabbit skull that whispers scathing insults when nobody is at it.

A tiny stone orb that hangs in the air for a moment when thrown

A toy crossbow that shoots small blunt bolts

A translucent coin, minted in an unknown land

A travel set of a dozen paints. All of the black paint is used up

A tree branch bearing an odd symbol that looks like it was grown rather than carved.

A tuning fork made from a dark metal which glows with a pale, white light during thunderstorms.

A turban that, when worn, makes your steps feel very light.

A tweed flatcap that never gets wet.

A twisting brass horn that produces a haunting melody when blow.

A vampire fang carved into the bust of a beautiful woman.

A vial of tree sap.

A walking cane topped with a metal sculpture of a hydra

A wax seal stamp with the design of a crown on it.

A werewolf’s talon, during the day it resembles a human fingernail and at night a black wolf’s claw.

A whale baleen broach carved into the shape of a humpback whale breaching the water.

A whistle made from the shell of a large mollusc.

A wide cap made from the preserved remains of a Flumph.

A wineskin that only holds wine. Any other liquid placed within, bleeds out through the leather after a few seconds.

A wizened, shrunken head.

A wolf-skin fur cloak that sometimes causes the bearer to growl under his breath.

A wooden box containing a set of toy metal soldiers, each immaculately modelled to depict the livery of some forgotten nation.

A wooden cane that, when placed on the ground, stands perfectly straight, and cannot be tipped over.

A wooden plank that refuses to burn.

A wooden puzzle cube covered in elemental symbols.

A wooden sword sized for a child.

A wooden whistle carved in the shape of a wolf, when blown it gives out a low howling sound.

A woollen scarf that is knitted with the words of an ancient elven prayer.

A worn blacksmith’s hammer, that twitches when near other sources of worked metals.

A yew wood figurine of a satyr with wings, carrying a willow wood staff.

An acorn that makes ringing noises and vibrates when touched.

An ancient and battered Ouija board.

An arrowhead carved from seasalt

An artificial nose made of copper that has a leather thong attached to it.

An ash divining rod that twitches at random

An ash wood walking stick

An auroch skin sleeping bag that protects from the worst of the cold.

An echo pearl from the depths of the Vibration Lake

An eerily lifelike wooden bear figurine that is never found where it is left

An expired potion of darkvision, that tastes heavily of carrots. If consumed, the drinker’s eyes become sensitive to light for one hour.

An expired potion of magical growth, that tastes heavily of iron. If consumed, the drinker’s lips double in size for one minute.

An extremely large leaf that causes food that it touches to taste very bitter.

An eye-sized blue pearl that floats in salt water.

An eyeball carved from stone that occasionally moves around, as though looking for something.

An eyepatch made of obsidian and a black leather cord.

An hourglass in which the sands pour upward instead of downward.

An hourglass that tells time with falling mist instead of sand.

An indestructible human skull that mumbles racist slurs whenever it sees an elf.

An ingot of copper with an unusual hue.

An invitation to a formal ball to be held in two years time

An iron door-handle that makes menacing noises when underground.

An ivory plague mask, the beak stuffed with fragrant potpourri.

An ivory whale statuette.

An odd stone that seems to permeate magical energy.

An oddly shaped, small stuffed toy depicting a goblin, sometimes it seems to wink at the owner.

An old brass lamp in which an genie once resided. His name is inscribed on the rim in Ignan, the language of fire.

An old coin, showing a hare on one side and the moon on the reverse.

An old scratched monocle which shows an underwater landscape whenever looked through.

An old, battered telescope that shows odd luminescent lines linking the stars when it is used.

An opaque jar that cannot be opened or broken

An ornate razor, which only cuts in freezing cold temperature.

An ornately carved figurine of a giant made from bone.

An oval-shaped soapstone tablet, inscribed with a short list of religious prohibitions

An ten feet of rope fashioned from straw-coloured strands of hair.

An unbreakable glass sphere containing a living ooze in magical stasis.

An unusually small humanoid skull.

Five crossbow bolts that have religious blessings etched onto the hafts.

Half of a coin with unusual markings engraved on both sides that cut off where the other half would connect.

[joycers1978]

Hanukkah style "3 dates in 3 nights" horror story

So I have profiles on two different popular dating sites. One rhymes with "Linder" and the other with "Plenty of Dish". And let's be honest ladies, guys want to date us! It doesn't seem to matter much what we look like or what our dreams and ambitions may be, there are men, tons of men, who are interested in us! I have about 700 men so far between the two sites who have messaged me, or swiped right. That's a lot of f---ing men! You would think that that would be enough right? That out of those 700 there has to be at least a few good ones right? Well, either my luck is shitty or I am doing something wrong because I have found narcissists, racists, ex prisoners, drug addicts and human traffickers (I'm pretty sure) and I have managed to actually meet and yes, actually go out with these people! Yay me! So I had been chatting with several different men between the two sites and one seemed to be rising to the top. His name was Chris and appeared attractive and had a job and didn't live in his mom's basement (and yes I went out with that guy to, but story for another blog). We seemed to have a lot in common and chatting via text and even two short little videos, was feeling really effortless. I felt myself getting excited for the first time in a while. I even went to the mall and had my hur (hair) did and bought two cute tops so I had options to choose from. Either the slutty tank top that showcased the boobs or the slutty chest hole cut-out top that showcased the boobs. I did my make up which consisted of blush and chapstick (I'm not much of a 50 shades of eyeshadow and contouring type o'gal) and spritzed my favorite jeans with vanilla body spray to freshen them up after I pulled them out of the dirty laundry hamper, cause I'm classy like that. We arranged for me to pick him up from work when he was off and I just assumed that it was for ease of transport. When I got there, he was standing outside and at first view, appeared to be cute from inside my car in the mostly dark parking lot of Fred Meyer. He was tallish with dark short hair and wearing jeans and a dorky leather jacket that looked straight out of a Christmas gift box from 1999. He walked over and opened my car door and slid into my passenger seat. When the light of the dome light hit his face, I could slightly see that his eyes looked in two separate directions and that he was missing some teeth... "oh geez" I thought "not great", but I didn't want to be the shallow asshole that I actually am, so I decided to go with it and give him a shot. We decided to go to a bar called Howie's and just have a casual hang. We got there and ordered a couple drinks, me a jack and coke and him a kamakazi and then grabbed a high table. We were sitting side by side and he was facing forward the entire time. He seemed SO insanely uncomfortable that I asked him if he was nervous and told him that he seemed like he was incredibly tense, which frankly probably had the opposite effect just calling him out like that, but hey, that's how I roll. He tells me that he is ex military and enlisted 6 months before 9-11 so he saw some action and was injured and now suffers from PTSD and is on an insanely high amount of morphine. He had his hands in his pockets and was shifting around and sitting and then standing and looked at the front door of the bar when a group of skantily clad girls walked in. I assumed that he was checking them out, but instead he says to me "yeah, so I check the front and back entrances to any building I'm in and if you don't like you can (incoherent mumbling). I was a bit taken aback because I didn't see that coming. He decided to share with me that he has panick attacks and that he was "giving his ex girlfriend head" and got up in the middle of it and threw a bag of stuff together in the middle of it and went and stayed in a hotel for a week. He told me had no car either because he had a suspended license for a dui. He was puffing like mad on his electronic cigarette and just seemed so uncomfortable I decided that I just couldn't watch this anymore. I told him I needed to get going and figured I was doing it as much for him as for myself. He really seemed like he needed to be let off the hook. We got into the car and he started vascilating between being angry and disappointed and sad and then angry. He was being incredibly rude in the way he was giving me directions, telling me to just do what he tells me and go straight till he tells me to turn. I actually felt some fear because he was being so irratic. When we finally reached his house, he mumbles that I am a "fucking cunt" but he would love to go down me if I change my mind. All of this happened in less than an hours time. Needless to say I haven't spoken to him since and I went home feeling very dejected.

[hamiltrash2097-blog]

Fantasy Creatures

(As I stated Madison in my AU loves all things to do with fantasy, myth and folklore. He’d completely lose it in @bunny-yams Creatures AU. This short fanfic is an idea I had yesterday .) 

Madison looked around gripping his messenger bag tighter as he walked. The entirety of surroundings unfamiliar. Not deterred he decided to ask for directions to the congress house. Alexander needs his help; it was a rough night for Hamilton. he saw a young lady, “Excuse me miss do you know where the congress house is?” Eliza stared at the confused human who looked a lot like her satyr friend. “It’s through the forest.Please be careful sir.” Eliza said touching his arm, “I will be. Thank you for the directions miss.” Eliza smiled hoping the wolves would leave the poor man alone. The delivery boy was late today and she hoped the hunter wasn’t snooping around to kill the wolves, satyrs and Lafayette. Burr was known to also interrogate humans he found in the woods. Madison had to contain a squeal of excitement seeing Eliza is a nymph. “I knew they existed” he whispered to himself walking into the woods. 

As Madison walked through the trees along the path he began to feel like he was being watched.Shaking his head, “There are animals in forest of course something is watching me.” Coughing into his handkerchief he kept walking. In the trees Thomas followed him watching as he stopped to cough once in a while. This strange human was not the delivery boy, but a strange Madison look alike. He even smelt and was sickly like the satyr. John was doing his rounds elsewhere in the forest while Thomas stalked the human. “I wonder if any werewolves live in here?” Thomas rolled his golden orbs continuing to follow James. In another area of the woods John was stalking a plump buck to kill for dinner and several days after that. Laf made anything last as long as he could feeding 5 fully grown creatures one of which was always sick. he was about to attack the deer when and arrow landed between his feet. the deer escaped. “Ugh it took me two hours to corner that deer!” John growled angrily. 

His growls grew quiet when he heard someone moving towards him; the scent was familiar. SHIT! John turned tail and ran realizing Burr is here to kill him or die trying. Burr chased after him firing arrows into trees trying to hit John anywhere he could. Burr landed a hit after ten minutes of chasing; the arrow tripped John sending him tumbling the head slicing his hand. he whimpered in slight pain trying to get up and keep running to lead Burr away from Laf and the castle. He hissed having put his bad hand down. He scrambled to stand but was knocked down by Burr who had caught up.  The hunter loomed over him and he whimpered softly in fear his ears flicking back in distress. Burr chuckled, “Serves you right mutt.” John glared at him holding his injured hand; Burr walked over and grabbed it making John yowl in pain. “Where is that delivery boy? HUH?” John yowled more struggling to get free. “Not herE!” he squeaked finally. 

Thomas was watching the human when suddenly the stout man took off running in the direction of a sound. “The fuck?!” Thomas bounded after him keeping himself hidden. James himself heard the whimper like a cannon had been fired and ran toward the distressed sound. he panted a little coughing a bit but he needed to find whoever was in distress.he found a hunter standing over a werewolf who was hurt it seemed. The wolf trembled in fear his cut being squeezed by the hunter. The wolf let out a yowl. Madison felt his blood boil; so Burr was hunting Laurens? Just like at home in the courthouse. He looked for a way to help Wolf Laurens and found only a bible, some medical supplies and his food rations. “You sick abominations are no children of God. You don’t belong here.” Burr spat. Laurens backed away  his tail tucked between his legs. James did not hesitate swinging the  the hard cover book and docking Burr in the face with it. The hunter stumbled hard rubbing his face. Madison stood in front of the werewolf protectively, “You should check yourself before bringing god into this.” Madison coughed. Burr glared, “Filthy satanic creatures!” Madison slapped his face with the bible again leaving a red mark. “You break a commandment. Thou shalt not kill.” Burr backed away, “Go on scram. You want to kill than you are NO child of god.” 

Burr held his cheek, “You are a sinner that would dare harm this werewolf because I don’t know he exists?! He did nothing to you! You cost him his dinner! For shame.” Burr’s eyes widened brimming with tears. “You disgust me. get out of my sight before I slap you again.” Burr turned and fled tears going down his swollen cheek. Madison placed the bible in his bag again before offering a hand to the wolf. John growled a bit still unsettled holding his injured hand which was still bleeding. “Oh geez let me help?” John growled more frightened and embarrassed. “Stay back!” he bared his teeth at Madison who watched confused. “I just want to patch up your hand.” he said. “I’m fine!” John snapped. “You can’t put pressure on it an it’s still bleeding.” Madison shot back. “Leave me alone!” John yelled. Thomas heard him yelling and made a beeline for his distressed friend. 

 He leapt out landing in front of John growling low in his throat. "He said back OFF!" Madison stared him down, "The cut will get infected if I don't treat it." Thomas stepped forward towering over Madison, "Back off! All you humans are the same. You act nice and try to kill us!" Madison stared up at him, "That's racist. Not all of us want to hurt you." "Fuck off little man." Thomas hissed. "Not likely. The Congress house is this way." Thomas got down to his level, "I said leave." His eyes flashed and his tail swished in irritation. Madison stared at him watching the wolf before a grin spread across his face. "Pff...ahahaha!" Thomas growled "What's so funny?!" Madison laughed more "I'm arguing with a werewolf ahaha..." "And losing!" Thomas spat narrowing his eyes. "Fair enough." John stared at him, "You're not scared?" Madison shook his head "I'm completely terrified." "Yet you laugh??" John replied. "It's just I never thought I'd ever meet a werewolf more or less argue with one." Thomas glared at him. "Look I mean no harm. I'll show you." Madison emptied his bag showing everything to Thomas. Thomas stared at the food rations, bible and medical supplies. "See? Nothing dangerous in here." 

“That stag is still nearby if you wanted to hunt it.” Madison pointed out, “We do need the food.” John mumbled. Thomas glared at Madison once more before going to hunt the stag. Madison sat beside John not moving to touch his hand just sitting and waiting coughing once in a while. John sighed, “Could you please treat my hand? It is starting to throb.” Madison nods, “May I see it?” John scoots closer and reveals the cut flesh. “Burr doesn’t fool around...” Madison removed the piece of the arrowhead and poured hot water over the cut making John hiss. “Ouch!” Madison carefully dried the cut and put medicine on it before wrapping it securely. John bent his clawed fingers. “Better?” Madison asked quietly. “Much” John replied. They sat in silence Madison observing the high amount of tension in John’s shoulders probably from stress. He reached over causing the wolf to tense more, “What are you-?” Madison scratched the spot between his ears gently watching his reaction. “Hnnnn-” John fought the urge to whimper like a puppy; it felt so good. Madison continued to scratch that spot scooting closer so he could reach better. John trembled resisting the euphoric feeling not wanting to let his guard down. “Relax” Madison said gently. “I.. can’t let my guard down...” John said through clenched teeth. Madison chuckled, “I slapped the town hero across the face with the holy bible twice and called him a sinner. I’d sooner hurt him again than you.” John can tell when people are lying and Madison wasn’t. He finally gave in and relaxed letting out a soft groan as his ears were scratched. Madison smiled seeing him relax and increased the pressure scratching the magic spot between his ears. “Hnnnn~” John near purred (because screw logic wolves purr XD) the tension leaving his body completely succumbing to his instincts. Madison chuckled softly coughing into his ascot continuing to scratch John’s head. John lay down drooling slightly his tail wagging; normally he’d feel embarrassed that he was being treated like a domestic dog but damn did the petting feel good. 

“Awhho...” John barked blushing immediately afterwards. “Should I stop?” Madison asked sensing his discomfort. “Don’t” John begged. “As you wish. Madison continued to let John watching him drool and whine happily. “But if you lick me...” John turned scarlet, “I’m not that much of a damn dog!” Madison laughed and John did too, “I know I was just teasing.” John growled playfully and pawed Madison who gasped, “You wound me so!” John rolled his eyes his tail flicking, “Right” Madison returned to scratching his ears and untangling his curly hair. John was practically laying in his lap on cloud 9 again. “Awhhooo~!” John exclaimed loudly when Mads scratched one spot behind his left ear. “There...feels good...there...” John mumbled. (NO NOT LIKE THAT YA SINNERS). Madison heeded his wished scratching there John exclaiming loudly again his ear laying back. Thomas meanwhile had killed the stag and was heading back when he heard John’s cries. “John!” He rushed to the meeting place dragging the deer with him. He burst from the brush and saw...”The actual FUCK did you do to him?!” Thomas growled lowly seeing John drooling his face flushed and tail wagging. “I’m fine Thomas...” John said his ears perking up again. “He was helping me relax.” Thomas dropped the dead stag, “You made several loud noises of distress!” John rolled his eyes, “You so easily forget what sounds of non explicit pleasure sound like.” Thomas glared, “What if he hurt you or tried to while you were dazed?!” “I’d sooner hurt the hunter again.” Madison replied.

Thomas huffed and grabbed the stag, “Let’s just get this to Gilbert.” Thomas marched ahead dragging the dead deer his tail flicking with irritation. “He needs to relax I swear...” John sighed. “I should teach Alexander how to make him a pile of mush.” Madison froze for a second, “Alexander? As in Hamilton?” John nodded continuing to walk leaving Madison to scramble after him. “Hamilton is the delivery boy for Martha Washington. Thomas and I kinda both have a thing for him...” Madison nods following him toward a vine covered castle; Thomas was waiting his face still set in a scowl. “LAF BLOODY HELL!” John suddenly shouted startling Madison from his thoughts. Footsteps approached and the old oak door swung open revealing a man. “WHO DID IT?!” He shouted in a French accent. “Thomas killed a stag.” John replied. “MON DIEU! Don’t do THAT!” He snapped. “You scared the hell out of Hercules and I.” John rubbed his neck sheepishly. Thomas nodded at the Frenchman and dragged the dead stag to be carved and stored. “John how many times have I told you not to scream Blood hell?!” Lafayette snapped at the wolf. “Sorry...” John said his ears laying back. “God we were scared....” Laf then noticed the bandage on John’s hand. “You did get hurt! Hercules!” John flushed trying to get away but ended up being dragged into the castle Madison scrambling after them. 

“Laf I’m fine really...” John said as he was dragged by the vampire. “No buts!” Laf shot back not even noticing Madison struggling to keep up coughing from all the dust and running. John was red faced as Laf led him to a satyr. Mulligan... Madison thought holding in a happy squeal at seeing yet another mythical creature. John was sat on a bench, “Who did this dressing on your hand? I know you had no supplies for this.” Hercules asked raising a brow at his friend. “He did.” John pointed to the panting Madison who felt small under their gaze. “You did?” Hercules asked. “B-best as I *cough* could with what I have with me...” Madison replied. “It is well done for the most part but it needs to be changed.” Mads nodded sitting on the bench as Hercules led John away to what he guessed is the infirmary. he was left alone with Lafayette who sat beside him while he caught his breath. The vampire could smell his sickly human blood; it made him sad that another version of his satyr friend is also ill. “S-sorry..” Mads wheezed softly. “No need to be.” Lafayette replied. Madison saw his fangs and tilted his head; Lafayette was taken aback. “You can have some if you want? You don’t have to turn me unless you puncture my veins or arteries right?” 

Lafayette blinks and nods surprised the human is educated on vampires and their rituals. “I assume you are a human version of James then?” he asked. “I suppose so? What am I here?” he asked. “A satyr like Hercules...you always get sick and we worry.” Madison sighed, “I’m better than before but I get sick often regardless.” Lafayette patted his shoulder, “You need the little healthy blood you have. I won’t hurt another who is already fighting with health issues.” Madison smiled sadly and looked at the vampire who smiled. At that moment the doors at the end of the hall burst open revealing a small man. “Where are those wolves?!” He snapped panting his eyes alight with fury and slight hurt. Lafayette walked over to the man placing a hand on his shoulder whispering in his ear. “Burr hurt John?! That asshole...I hate him...” James felt a pang in his chest as they walked to the bench. “This is James, he’s human just like you.” James dared to look up and saw another version of Alexander...a HUMAN version. It sent a painful pang through his heart remembering the last conversation he had with  Alexander back in the Congress House. 

“This can’t be right! I- I can’t outlive...everyone... I CAN’T!” Alexander paced his eyes full of conflicting emotions; his irises swirled with different colors. “Alex...the book doesn’t lie...you know t-that...” James said quietly. “I CAN’T...I...I..” Alex crumpled to his knees tears running down his cheeks. “I...can’t...do..this...” James touched his shoulder, “Alexander...” His voice held pain as well seeing his friend so upset. “I WANT TO BE HUMAN AGAIN! I w-want to grow old and die w-with John...I WANT TO BURIED BESIDE HIM...J-John....” Hamilton curled up inside his wings sobbing his smaller form shaking. “I don’t want this damned demon immortality....” 

James  shakily stood up as tears began to slide down his cheeks.It hurt to think Alex would watch them all pass away, attend the funeral of his husband and live for many years after they were all safe in their graves. He turned mumbling a weak excuse me before almost running toward the door leading outside. He passed John who saw his tears. He wondered why James is upset. He patted Hercules’s shoulder chasing after James. Thomas came back inside passing John who paid him no mind. Shrugging he went to meet Alex who asked why he was not there to help guide him or at least protect him. “We got sidetracked with that other guy!” Laf rolled his eyes, “And they hunted down dinner.” Alex sighed snuggling into Thomas’s arms when the wolf hugged him. Outisde John had found James crying in the garden on a bench. “James? What’s wrong?” John sat beside him wrapping the smaller man in a hug. “J-juts memories resurfacing...” James sniffled. “Bad?” John asked. “M-more sad really...” James replied “It’s. j-just...where I’m from Alexander isn’t human...not anymore...” James took a shaky breath and explained it all to John who was shocked. “Alexander was the only non human spare his son Philip who was still half human. “And he knows that he’ll watch us all die but he’ll go on living...he got really upset...” James said. John rubbed his back, “Jeez that’s harsh.” James nodded sadly. “Seeing our Alex set it off huh?” James nodded rubbing his eyes with his kerchief. “We can atb least try to get you home tomorrow morning.” James sighed softly nodding. “T-thank you...” John nods, “Come on Laf probably made dinner or is making dinner.” James followed him back inside. That night was probably the most fun he’d had outside if his usual routine in a  long while. he taught Alex to tame Thomas after much chasing and Thomas growling. Alex reduced him to goo in a matter of minutes. He and John combined rendered Thomas helpless while the others laughed at his defeat. James met his satyr self and gave him advice for managing his weak immune system. The next day the wolves and Alex set out for the edge of the woods; James walked toward the edge of the trees waving goodbye. They waved back. He paused in his walk from the woods but when he turned around all he saw was the streets of NYC. The forest was gone leaving James wondering if it only appears to certain people. he opted to explore that another day and hastened his pace to the Congress house. Thomas met him at the door asking where he’d been. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you Thomas...” He replied as they got to work. 

[romancevsreality-blog]

bachelor in paradise, season five, episode one: do not trust anyone with a permanent smile on their face

I can’t believe we’re back here again.

By “back here”, I mean literally sitting in my bed, drinking an enormous iced coffee, and wondering where we all went wrong in life. And by “back here”, I mean Fuck Island: The Battle For Social Humiliation. Hi, I’m Amanda, the lead blogger and the laziest person on the face of the earth, back again, two weeks late, recapping the fifth season of Bachelor in Paradise, the actual worst show on television.

Up until last year, I firmly fell into the opposite camp - I thought Bachelor in Paradise deserved a god damn Peabody Award for The Audacity Of Being On Television. But after the Corinne and Demario crash-and-burn-and-pay-them-to-keep-quiet1 of 2017, the show kind of left a gross taste in my mouth. And following the Defense Against Criticism of Racist and Sexist Behavior, or the most recent season of The Bachelorette, I’m losing hope in humanity. It wasn’t fun to talk about anymore, it just made me angry.

I still hate these people, but now I want to slam my keyboard again and remind them what the fuck is up. So welcome back to Fuck Island, Y'all!

The episode opens with reminding us of Jade And Tanner, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Two Years Ago In Paradise And Married On TV Early Last Year and Then Had A Baby, Remember Them? as well as the new Paradise SuperCouple, Evan And Carly, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Last Year In Paradise And Married On TV Last Year and Then Had A Baby Too, Remember Them? They’re determined to make us forget Marcus and Lacy, too, because their marriage was a sham and apparently Lacy straight up ghosted Marcus, but also, that story is still hilarious.

Oh, Marcus. Marcus should come back on Paradise and get his Nick Viall edit.

So let’s go over the opening credits, shall we?

They’re still using the poor cover of “Almost Paradise” because someone on this series refuses to buy the real version -this show has a budget of $100. We get shots of the guys in the water, people on speedboats, people making out, all the girls running in their bathing suits… and first up is Jordan, laying on his side like a washed-up beach whale struggling to breathe. Kendall is looking at what is her best option for a romantic partner, the skull of a bull. I don’t know who Angela is. Eric dances like he’s your favorite cousin at your great aunt’s 88th birthday party. Chris is not even worth acknowledging because he’s awful and I wish the wave that washed over him drowned him. They put Tia in a red, white, and blue bathing suit because she thinks she’s America’s sweetheart. These people could write a book on subtlety. Krystal throws... glitter? Kevin leans into that “sexy firefighter” thing, an occupation I have never found to be sexually appealing. Can someone in the comments explain why there are “sexy firefighters” and not like, “sexy restaurant managers”? Bibiana has a new haircut and drops a mic because we love unexplained jokes that only make sense later on in the episode when we see the source. MY BOYFRIEND WILLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Astrid holds up some melons and I love her bathing suit so I will refrain from calling her Astird for now. Grocery Store Joe can straight up get it. Nysha looks like my friend Rae’s sister and clearly is too good for this show. David’s clearly recovered from his Bachelorette season injury but he just looks untrustworthy. Annaliese, who no one remembers, is freaking out about a bird? KENNY who we don’t deserve does an amazing backflip and Chelsea holds a glass. Nick, who I am strangely attracted to, particularly in that track suit because he reminds me of Jeremy Renner is a weird melted down kind of way, shows us what’s under that track suit and damn. DAAAAAMN, Waxy Jeremy Renner. And then finally, Venmo John counts his pesos and god, I love him.

Oh, and my Ex-Boyfriend Wills and Mortal Enemy, Chris Harrison are in Sayulita, too. Mexico, I am so sorry.

Chris Harrison pretends like he’s setting up the island area where these contestants are going to be hanging out. Chris Harrison doesn’t know how to hold a rake, let alone operate one, and why is he raking sand?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?! I am most uncomfortable with seeing Chris Harrison barefoot. That feels far too intimate from a man I despise. Anyway, they’re going to remind us of who these people are.

First up is Kendall, the Not Like the Other Girls Girl from Arby’s season. Kendall is different! She likes dead stuff and the most annoying instrument[^2] and loves posing on the beach in a bikini. Next is Kenny, who’s still hurting from his breakup with Rachel. We get to see McKenzie, his 11-year-old daughter, and I’m FULL OF EMOTIONS. Kevin Is Canadian and immediately reveals that Ashley I cheated on him with Jared. I love that. Throw that shade, Canadian Kevin. Krystal is also back, and she wants the world to know that she’s a good cook, including able to frost an angel food cake. Chris is back and he’s totally trying to Josh Murray himself and redeem his image from Becca’s season. Oh, Chris. You’re on the wrong show for that. He calls himself The Goose, and I already know that’s the “do the damn thing” of this season.

[^2] I will fight anyone on the ukelele being an annoying instrument. I get it, it’s cultural, but it’s unfortunately been appropriated by a certain sect of people and I’m annoyed by THAT mostly. Why can’t they just play the banjo? Or the trombone?

Speaking of birds, David the Chicken who doesn’t like avocados is back with his long-ass eyebrows. He lives at home in Boca Raton with his mom, because David is a catch. Unfortunately, he can’t marry his mom, but he’s coming to paradise to come after Jordan. Jordan’s got a full arsenal of looks to wear and roasting of Chicken David to do in Paradise. Annaliese is remembered for her bumper car trauma and fear of dogs and pretty much everything. She’s afraid of redheads, sand, sombreros, birds, large bodies of water, so... an island in Mexico is perfect for her. My Queen Bibiana is there for her third Bachelor series in six months and she’s just ready for all bikinis and hoping her ass slaughters al the men. Me too, Bibi. I love you. My Boyfriend Wills also shows us his sartorial choices of the season, and he’s ready to loosen up. Have his eyes always been that green? God. He’s like Smoky Robinson.

Ugh, Tia. Tia gets the longest of the opening montages because they want to torture us all. The only thing I like about Tia is that fact that TIa is thirsty as hell and not afraid to show her disappointment. Openly sad about Becca as The Bachelorette. Coming in twice to piss on Colton’s leg on The Bachelorette. Saying “I’m only here for Colton.” Tia is obvious about what it is she wants and we hate her for it. Because she’s thirsty.

Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, welcome to Fuck Island, where the people are heading in. The first in is Tia, who is like MY JOURNEY MY JOURNEY MY JOURNEY!!!! This is her chance to pretend she’s The Bachelorette. She’s the first person to arrive and her new fake boobs are on display. She’s like, “the person who comes down the stairs could be my partner,” and the next person is Eric, who looks like a mascot. Kendall arrives “open to love” because Kendall isn’t like the other girls.

Next down is Jordan, clearly long enough for the three of them to get drinks. Jordan’s happy to be in a place as beautiful as he is. Tia makes mention of Jordan’s villain edit on his season and Jordan’s like, “sometimes it’s best to know someone before judging them.” Bibi comes down and makes a joke to Chris Harrison about the bumpy road to Paradise and how much her uterus hurts. It’s not a great joke. Is it a joke? Yes. Bibiana arrives as a flamboyant ball of fire and I love her. Jordan and Bibi have something, but Bibi is waiting for the real sign of a good guy. It's never coming, Bibi. Men are trash.

God, Grocery Store Joe, my mumble-mouthed handsome Chicago man, arrives ready to fall in love and doesn’t want to get home straight away again. That’s his main goal. Next is in My Boyfriend Wills, who immediately comes face to face with My Ex-Boyfriend Wells, who managed to maintain his job as bartender despite not knowing how to bartend. How White Man of him. No wonder we broke up. Chelsea comes in, looking pretty much just like Krystal, and all the guys jump on her. Chelsea is a hot mom. Kendall and GroStoJoe talk about picnics, and Joe’s like, “I’m not a picnic kind of person,” while Kendall is like “I like to have picnics in graveyards.” Kendall asks if Joe has ever seen a dead person, and it’s all... yeah. Stop it, Kendall.

Chris, my worst nightmare, shows up in some salmon pink shorts and I’m gagging. All the contestants are waiting to see who’s arriving next, and they all hope it’s not Krystal. Particularly Tia and Bibiana, who both say she’s a bad person. Krystal arrives and the dramatic music starts. Welcome to paradise, Y'all. Krystal talks about the stress of The Bachelor on her, but she can recognize that Chris shares part of her name. Tia is literally like “I’m happy she’s here, but I want to kill her.” Krystal has some bass in her voice and is speaking like a normal person, not with that weird lilt to her she was pulling off all Arby’s season. Kendall’s worried someone’s going to be interested in both her and Krystal and so of course, Joe goes after Krystal first.

Canadian Kevin, Waxy Jeremy Renner, and Venmo John all arrive. Of course, Kendall is about John because “I’m a sucker for nerds.” Kendall really isn’t like the other girls. Nysha, one of the girls from Arby’s season who we barely knew arrives, and so does Angela, whoever the hell Angela is. Who is Angela? Angela is gorgeous but man, I have no idea who she is. Our Favorite Dad Kenny arrives and McKenzie refuses to let him come back if he doesn’t have someone. I love this show. Kenny is talking to Nysha, but Astird walks in and I already know I’m going to get her and Angela confused.

Tia keeps looking over everyone’s shoulders in hopes that Colton is coming down the stairs. She thinks she’s being slick about it, but everyone notices and it’s hilarious. Annaliese comes down in her Romwe romper and Jordan immediately tells her he’s interested, attracted, and he’s known for being arrogant form his season. David arrives and Jordan immediately freezes up. Someone calls out “Jordan, David’s here!” and they’re expecting drama to go down between them. It doesn’t, Jordan and David have a handshake and David walks away. It’s just awkward. Tia’s bummed that David’s the last entry and Colton, in fact, will not be arriving that day. Everyone’s like “MOVE ON TIA” and Tia’s conflicted on what she wants out of Colton, it seems.

Chris Harrison comes in and tells them the rules - there are more women than men this week, and the guys aren’t safe this week. They need to pair up ASAP or else they won’t get the chance to be the next Jade And Tanner, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Two Years Ago In Paradise And Married On TV Early Last Year and Then Had A Baby, Remember Them? or Evan And Carly, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Last Year In Paradise And Married On TV Last Year and Then Had A Baby Too, Remember Them?

The girls are ecstatic that they have control, except Tia. Tia’s mad she’s going to have to talk to someone other than Colton, even though she’s safe that week. God, I hate her. Joe and Tia sit down and Joe’s getting his flirt on and getting his camera time. He’s making up for lost time, apparently. Colton immediately comes up and you can tell Joe barely remembers Colton. But Tia talks about how she had a “relationship” with Colton before his time on Becca’s season of La Bachelorette and they haven’t spoken since. Joe would want to give his date card to Tia, but he can tell Tia’s not over Colton.

Colton, Colton, Colton.

Tia, the only person who didn’t want a date card, gets a date card. The producers want to torture her. She actually yells “NO!!!” when her name is on the card, and I agree with Bibiana - she needs to be open to her options and she’s super upset at the idea. She literally said “I came here o find something serious and lasting with Colton,” a guy she went on two dates with once a few months ago. This is such alarming behavior. Everyone’s upset by Tia but they’re all pretending it’s okay.

Tia really confirms her trash taste by choosing Chris for her date card.

Joe’s like, “I’m disappointed,” but everyone is like “dude, bullet dodged.” Krystal is thrilled Joe wasn’t picked by Joe until Joe takes Kendall aside for some private time. Kendall and Joe are cute and talk about storms and they like each other and make out on one of the day beds. Kendall’s mom warned her about making out on one of the day beds, and here we are day one!!!!! Krystal, meanwhile, is just baffled by the entire idea of Joe and Kendall. Joe isn’t the guy for her, it’s confirmed.

So it’s nighttime, and we have a few connections already made - Joe and Kendall, Annaliese and Venmo John, and David thinks Angela is in his league2. But that’s it - a few people have been left behind and ignored, and we see a great awkward conversation between Nysha and Jordan. In the wake of Joe and Kendall hooking up, Krystal’s interested in Kevin, who isn’t nearly as hot everyone wants us to think. He looks like a rough draft of a person. They both talk about how hot the other is and they make out on another of the day beds. Gross3.

Chelsea, one of the most beautiful women this franchise has ever had, is on the couch with Wax Jeremy Renner, and he’s way into her. He doesn’t care that she’s a mom, he’s super into that and thinks he’d make a great role model. He’s super attracted to Chelsea, too and continues to be like “man, I would make out with you if you wanted to,” but she starts feeling sick. Chelsea is my queen. The other contestants talk about Tia and Chris’s date and how it’s unfair because Tia has unfinished business with a guy who’s not even there. Astird is correct in saying Tia probably should have given her date card away rather than go out with someone she was only interested in until someone else comes in.

As if Tia would ever give up the chance to be on camera.

Tia and Chris sit down to dinner that they’re not really going to eat, and Chris is shocked he’s even out with Tia. Tia brings up Colton first, and basically says “I’m here because I want to be here with you.” Chris is thrilled and is in Paradise to hang out with people he wouldn’t necessarily hang around. They both want to leave Paradise with a real relationship. They continue to cut back to the villa, where My Boyfriend Wills and Astird both think that Chris and Tia will have a fun date, even if it is a platonic one. But it doesn’t matter, because they both make out while fireworks go off!

Tia’s like “Colton Who?” Which is such a mature response and a clear indicator of where her mind is?

The next morning, Tia and Chris are all lovey-dovey and kissing, and everyone’s excited for them, which is why Colton’s arriving now. Production needs to take a class in subtlety because they even add the “thunder crashing” and “ominous clouds” videos, even though it’s gorgeous when Chris Harrison talks to Colton, who you know not to trust because he is permanently smiling. Colton tells Chris Harrison he’s not there just for Tia, but his world is open. He has a date card (barf). Colton arrives and immediately Chris is set off course and Tia is smiling like the Cheshire fucking cat. She can’t even pretend not to be over the moon. She fully expects Colton’s date card to go to her an- Colton takes Kendall aside first. Everyone’s like “him not grabbing Tia is a signal.” Kendall tells Tia and gets the deets, and everyone thinks it’s awkward to not grab Tia first. Chris, meanwhile, is spiraling, and he’s terrified Tia is going to go out with Colton.

I mean, Tia’s going to go out with Colton. That was written in First Corinthians. Poor Angela, though. I mean that in the “it hurts now but you dodged a bullet” way.

Chelsea, Nysha, and Angela are all hoping that this date will at least come out with some solid “yes-or-no” on the Tia and Colton situation. Jordan says this is Chris’s Vietnam. It’s a weak metaphor. Astrid and Wax Jeremy Renner HATE Colton. Wax Jeremy Renner calls Colton a “fame chaser”, and Astird thinks that Colton just likes having Tia on the back burner in case something else doesn’t turn out. Fuck Colton.

Tia and Colton talk about their first date from six months ago, where they basically spent a weekend together. Like, two dates. That’s it. Tia’s hoping they can recreate that weekend in Paradise, but this is an extra AF reaction for TWO dates. Chelsea also hates Colton, because he can’t figure it out - is he there to date Tia and fuck the “I’m open to everyone here” idea, or is be big enough of a dick to date other girls in front of Tia? Either way, he looks like a dick. Colton brings up what Tia did to make Becca send Colton home, and Colton is still pissed. Like, he’s trying to pretend like he’s not, but he’s still super mad because apparently he was in love with Becca and Tia got in the way of that.3 Tia is sorry if he feels like he missed out, but she didn’t want to miss out on her opportunity to get a chance to be with him. Colton doesn’t know what’s there or what could be there with Tia, but he mostly just wants to be on television. Tia wants to know if he feels like there’s something possible between them because she can’t get him out of her head. Colton gives the most nothingburger answer, like “I don’t know, I want to be fair to everyone, I’m not closing the door on this, I’m here to figure out my stuff and be on tv and hopefully become The Bachelor.” Tia doesn’t take this as “Okay, let’s both play the field” like Colton probably intended it to, she just thinks that’ll make him try harder. They go out on a speedboat and then they have a make-out session.

Tia talks on and on about her feelings for Colton, and we never once hear from him. I know that’s on purpose. What Colton is doing is dangerous, and really shouldn’t happen. Just tell someone you’re not interested. That’s it. Back at the villa, Jordan, Chris, and Wax Jeremy Renner are plotting to confront Colton. They all know he’s there to be on television and he isn’t interested in Tia. Kendall and Joe can’t be bothered and don’t understand why they’re bothered, either. The guys are white knighting Tia and they’re hoping they’re going to get to confront him. The two of them have a scarlet letter on them, and they both need to come to terms with it because they’re killing the vibe in paradise.

To be continued...

Next Time: The greatest summer in Bachelor History! Everyone is making out with everyone! Krystal is in love! Hot people on the beach! YUUUKIIIIIIIIIIII1!! Ugh, Leo vs. Joe? Clearly, I’m on one side over the other. Jenna ignites the feud between Jordan and David. Ugh, gross, that gross guy Kamil. Oh my god, Shushanna is back?! Shushanna “Shut up 5s, a 10 is speaking” Russian girl has been accused of being a witch, so I already am on her team. Colton tears. Eye roll. Tia tears. I don’t care. Ben Higgins yells about being unlovable, and gross, Arby is there. ROBB(IE???) WHY???? All of the Bachelor and Paradise alums we don’t care about! Tears!

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

Okay, this is the best collective group of Paradise alums we’ve had since the first one. Fight me. It’s a bunch of nothing contestants plus a few notable ones.

I love Bibiana and I love Chelsea and I love Astrid. They all else can go in the garbage.

I don’t know if I can handle six weeks of Colton talk and sociopath smiles.

... I really hate those braids on My Boyfriend Wills. Sorry, Wills.

I’m already adorning my tin foil hat here, but Y'all can’t tell me Corinne and Demario didn’t accept a hefty settlement in exchange for The Powers That Be to do whatever they want. ↩︎

David really is a permanent wingman and that is not a compliment. ↩︎

Or, really, Tia was brought in by production to give Becca an excuse to eliminate Colton before Fantasy Suites so she wouldn’t get screamed at by America for eliminating the virgin in the Fanty Sweets. Tinfoil hats abound over here. ↩︎ ↩︎

[negativereader]

Everything Wrong With Twilight: The Anti-Human Thing

“I’m not anti-woman, I’m anti-human,” -Stephenie Meyer.

It’s time to address this.

The Anti-Human Thing

The biggest and most common criticism against Stephenie Meyer is that she’s sexist. I mean, there’s evidence everywhere. Bella does nothing but cook and clean for Charlie, who seems incapable of doing so for himself, she often has to be physically carried places because she’s so weak and accident prone that it’s sort of amazing that the girl has managed to survive as long as she has. Her only goal seems to be getting with Edward, and honestly once he’s gone, she just sort of curls up and tries to die of despair. She’s called herself a ‘moon without her planet’ in New Moon, and the narrative has no problem with this.

In addition, you have Emily who just seems to submit to an abusive relationship because ‘he loves her’, and Leah, who is demonized for daring to be a girl and interrupting the boy’s club of the werewolf pack and then is told she is not female enough because it’s heavily implied that she’s infertile.

However, Meyer constantly denies that she’s against women in particular. What people are seeing as an anti-human bias that happens to involve a woman. Now, taking out the fact that I don’t see how that’s any better, I actually think that she’s telling the truth. She is very anti human, however her hatred of humanity tends to take the form of using some of the most degrading stereotypes around men, women, Native Americans, blacks, and just about everyone else.

“Human in Distress”

One of Meyer’s biggest defenses that she makes time and time again, to the point where she literally wrote a book in order to prove to her critics that she wasn’t sexist, is that Bella was not a damsel in distress. Rather, she was a human in distress, completely outclassed by the supernatural world around her.

There is, in Meyer’s mind, nothing that Bella can do, surrounded by creatures that are faster, stronger, smarter and just generally better than her. The only thing that she, or anyone else with any intelligence, can do, is try to join them. If Bella was male, as demonstrated by Life and Death, there would be no difference. ‘He’ would still be blind, weak and completely helpless. And this is the way that Meyer likes it.

Her Vampires are Superior

Despite the many, many jokes about how sparkling vampires sound like fairies and how the Cullens couldn’t stand a chance against ‘real’ vampires, I’m going to point out an unfortunately truth.

The vampires of this world are terrifying.

Most of the time, vampires have the same weaknesses. They can’t be out in the sun, they can’t come into a place unless they’re invited, they have to sleep and recharge, holy items and certain herbs like garlic repel them, and as terrifying as these things are, humanity has at least some defense against them. Meyer, from the first, makes sure to strip humanity of every single one of these protections. Her vampires are obviously able to come into the house without being invited (or else Edward would have some difficulty in his favorite hobby), they don’t need to sleep (so there is never a time when they’re unaware of your approach), holy items do nothing, and neither does garlic. Their skin is impervious to just about all human weapons, other than flamethrowers. And, oh yes, we have those, but vampires are also super fast, super strong, and have unique powers of their own.

Essentially, only the threat of the Volturi is keeping us from being ruled over by them, rounded up into ‘human farms’ and summarily devoured.

What’s worse is that Meyer doesn’t see a problem in this. In her Correspondence 12, she mentions how seeing humans purely as food is “a hard viewpoint to resist—after all, vampires are physically and mentally superior to the nth degree. Their life spans measure in centuries and millenniums. Human lives are so short—sort of like fruit flies that only live a day in comparison. Humans die so easily, too, in their sleep, from tripping, from a tiny heart glitch, from a virus, from getting bumped a little too hard by a car. It's sort of hard for an average vampire to take them seriously. They're going to die soon anyway, right? (I know it might be difficult to step away from a human perspective and see it through their eyes. The question is, is it really wrong for them to see the world that way? Vampires are at the very pinnacle of the food chain. Should they feel bad about that? Or are they simply following the dictates of nature?)” (https://www.twilightlexicon.com/2007/05/20/personal-correspondence-12/).

This paragraph sums up the true and awful power that Meyer has given her vampires, and just how little she thinks of humans in comparison to them. I’ve mentioned how, in the past, that Meyer clearly doesn’t see anything wrong with vampires eating people. This is my proof. The world for a human in the Twilight universe is perfect for a Social Darwinist: a place where the strong thrive and the weak deserve their fate.

Weakness is Human

What’s more, weakness is something that is identified as belonging to humanity. Bella, when she is being stupid, is not being a ‘female’, no, everyone tells her just how human she’s being. Every mistake that she makes is because she’s human. Once she’s a vampire, Bella happily crows about how her human failings have vanished. The moment that Bella isn’t human anymore, she goes full Godmode Sue and starts eating mountain lions, having no trouble with her transformation, and talking about how stupid and slow and hideous humans are.

Not only that, but humans are reduced to nothing but their flaws.

The place where Meyer gets hit the hardest for being sexist or racist is here. Throughout the entire book, humanity is reduced to the bare stereotypes of what they are really like. All human men of mumbling, sex-obsessed Neanderthals whose affections are as shallow and fleeting as a puddle. They’re all obsessed with ‘manly’ things like sports, and are all sniffing around anything good looking.

All human women are shallow, vain harpies who think of nothing other than their own looks, and resent all other women for possibly being competition for men.

Charlie, despite the fact that he is an adult man who has been living alone for most of his adult life, is incapable of cooking, and, as the series progresses grows more and more like the distant, insensitive, yet authoritarian father that belongs in a badly written soup opera. Renee is the same. Despite the fact that this woman is an adult, and she should be able to handle herself, she’s treated as if she is little more than a toddler in the body of an adult. She can’t do taxes, organize her life, or much of anything without a man (or Bella) to do them for her.

The same holds true for Bella’s friends, or the people that she talks to during Breaking Dawn.

We never actually see a capable human being throughout the entire series. Bella is not supposed to be weak because she’s female, no, in Meyer’s mind, Bella is weak because she’s human.

Why?

Twilight is, at its heart, a wish fulfillment fantasy. A chance for young girls to essential have their cake and eat it too. They get to be the weak, delicate flower that a handsome, wealthy man who will stay that way forever dedicates himself to protecting, but she also gets to rise above her humanity, eventually eclipsing Edward, and every other vampire in power, and growing to protect all of them from being told what to do and what not to do.

For Bella, humanity is the trial that she has to overcome. It’s not the vampires, not really. She has to rise above her humanity, which we are to view as her slow, stupid, worthless nature, in order to become a vampire, where every pleasure is magnified, and all flaws (physical and then some) are removed. The vampires aren’t the trial, they’re the reward.

Does that mean it’s not sexist?

Now, I’m going to say that I’m always reluctant to use terms like ‘sexist’ or ‘racist’ easily. I believe that terms have power, and if they’re used too often, some of the punch is lost. It’s one of the reasons that I would not call Rowling’s Magical America racist. There are areas that are insensitive or show that she has the same in depth understanding of American issues as most Americans have of European ones, but I’m always hesitate to throw out major words.

That being said, Meyer’s work is sexist, but not for the reasons that she thinks. Meyer thought that the reason that people called her work sexist had to do with the damsel in distress thing, and she’s wrong. That trope can be used and worked. A female character needing help is not inherently bad. People sometimes need help. The problem is the mindset around her needing to be rescued. The first thing with Tyler’s van wasn’t a big deal. It was something that happened randomly, served the plot and worked to make her suspicious, but also to wonder if Edward wasn’t a bad person. However so many of Bella’s kidnappings weren’t about her. They were about Edward. Even Lois Lane was usually captured because she was usually gathering information to write a story that would expose the person who kidnapped her. Lois was a threat in her own right (unless it was the sixties but whatever). Bella isn’t. Bella is just there to get to Edward.

Another reason I’d call the series sexist has to do with Rosalie and Leah, who are both at some level blamed for the horrors that befell them. Rosalie was just so good looking that she was apparently asking for Royce to rape her (Meyer even states in one interview that he loved her in a way) and Leah should have just been happy that her fiancé’s entire personality was rewritten so that he could have babies with her beloved cousin, and is treated like a raging harpy and ostracized for being hurt and angry. Both are considered someone inferior to Bella because they can’t have children, and both are supposed to be viewed with little to no sympathy.

Alice is just a raging stereotype that I have little to no interest in discussing.

So, yes, the series is sexist, just not why Meyer thinks people object to it.

Fixing it

Meyer needs to actually look at her beloved superheroes. What made Superman such an important figure not how powerful he is. It was the fact that he loved humanity and seemed to see himself as human.

Unless you’re Frank Miller, what made Batman as popular as he is isn’t the fact that he’s a rich, hot angst muffin. It’s the fact that, despite having no powers, he was capable of going toe to toe with beings far more powerful than he was and winning.

Even if you’re writing a wish fulfillment, which is all that superheroes and heroines are, it is possible to show humanity in a positive light, even if the focus is on characters who aren’t human, and half of fixing it would be to make the mindset of the vampires less of what Meyer sketches out in Correspondence 12. Make it clear that the vampires who see humans as meat aren’t justified, acceptable or anything else. They’re wrong. Make the Cullen’s, rather than ‘struggling’ as Meyer puts it, to honestly reject it, which is one of the reasons why they live with people.

Make it so that characters like Charlie are capable in their own way, make Bella, even if she is weaker than her opponents, clever enough to at least stand.

Rather than seeing humanity as a weakness, or a state that needs to be transcended, show it, at least, as something to be defended.

[dylanthoran-blog]

D&Da 4: Katak , The Legend

Callie and Rede left the town to head towards the predestinated meeting point. Neither of them had much to do in town besides trade a few items, so they figured they could head out early and have camp completely set up for when the rest of their party finally came around. It was nice and peaceful in the woods where they set up camp. Just another average, calm day of their travelling life often filled with interesting precarious moments. “How long has it been since we paired up?” Rede asked her while he worked on the tents.

“Oh geez…” Calie looked over at him, “A few years at least from when you ‘hired’ me on.” She wasn’t in any of her large plate armor as they hadn’t any plans to be causing trouble anytime soon. Rede found it nice to see her in more form fitting clothes.

Rede chuckled, “Turn out as stupid and boring as you first thought it was going to?” He teased her, “What was it you told me? It was probably a waste of time and a loss of money?”

Calie shook her head at him, “You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?”

“Oh hells no!” Rede immediately replied, “Only since you like it so much.”

Calie rolled her eyes and got back to work, “To be fair, it was a pretty good waste of time the first few months. No one wants to hire just two people for a job normally.”

“We got by well enough.”

“Speak for yourself,” Calie scoffed, “I was about getting ready to ditch your sorry ass before we ran into Shade and Gorgos.”

“Well, glad you didn’t.” Rede smiled at her, “This party would be lost without you.”

Callie laughed, “Oh trust me, I know.”

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

 Walker had immediately left his friends behind and headed straight to the tavern. With a bit of luck the owner hadn’t changed in the past few years and still owed him. As Walker flung open the doors he was surprised to see just how busy it was in here, being as early in the day as it was. Shrugging to himself he walked to the bar and jumped up onto one of the stools. “Whiskey, straight.” He quickly ordered as he noticed the barkeep, pleased to see it was the same owner.

“Right away, sir gnome-“ The barkeep stopped short as he saw Walker sitting in front of him. His eyes lit up and he walked over smiling to him, “Well I be damned! I didn’t think you’d ever come around these parts by now!”

Walker chuckled, “Just passing through the area with my friends. Honestly surprised you remember me.”

“I’d never forget the face of that gnome who saved my family, my tavern, my life.” He patted the bar in front of Walker, “Wait right here, sir, I’ve got something special in mind just for you.” The barkeep quickly ran down into his cellar before coming back out not long after with a large, dusty, auburn bottle that looked ages old. The barkeep set down the bottle and smiled widely, “I found this gem hidden quite well in a burnt down cabin a year after you helped me out.” He wiped off the dust from the label and turned it to face Walker.

Walker’s mouth dropped wide open. Katak, The Legend. It was by far the rarest whiskey to ever grace the world. There was a multitude of different rumors on who and how these bottles were made, but the truth was that no one really knew. There was no brewery who could lay claim to it, and no family who claim its ancestry. It simply appeared from seemingly nowhere…and sold for exorbitant prices. Walker slowly shook his head, “You…you can’t. I don’t-“

“Shhh.” The barkeep smiled at him, “I can, and I will.” He told Walker, “If you hadn’t spotted that my chest was a mimic I would have lost my life, and if not my life, it would have been the tavern followed by my wife, in which case I would have wished for it to be my life.” He paused for a few seconds, “They are my everything, lad, I’m not sure you understand, but-“

Walker raised his hand silencing the barkeep. He closed his eyes and took a deep, pained breath, “No…I understand. And I would’ve paid the same.” He bit his cheek for a short second before swallowing heavily and opening back up his eyes while grabbing the neck of the bottle, “Thank you.”

The barkeep looked down at the gnome with sorrowful eyes, “I’m sorry for-“

Walker shook his head, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He forced out a smirk, “Plus, I wouldn’t be so good at spotting mimics if not for that…” Walker sighed.

The barkeep nodded at him, “Speaking of mimics…any luck finding one of the ones you were looking for?”

Walker shook his head, “No...trails went cold weeks after I ran into you. Now I travel with some new friends living on a small hope I’ll run across them one day.”

The barkeep beckoned for Walker to lean over for him to whisper in his ear, “Rumors got it that there’s a mimic in Castle Everclare with the human king, another one sneaking around in the elven red light city of Talama, and a third one way out in the trade capitol of Port Phishk.”

Rede nodded at him, “Hmm…no guarantee any of them will be ones that I’m looking for, but it’s always worth a shot. I’ll ask if my party is up for hitting any of those places. Can find good merc work in any of them.”

The barkeep leaned back, “Aye, you all could. Figured I’d do my part to help you on your vengeance quest.” He took a deep breath, “Anyways, shall you crack open that bottle?”

Walker smiled at him, “Pull out two glasses, at the very least you deserve a taste of it as well, my friend.”

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

 The sky was painted with pinks and oranges by the setting sun once Shade and Gorgos came running into camp. “What the fuck?!” Rede screamed at them as Gorgos dropped down a pair of dead bodies behind hers and Shade’s tent.

Shade laughed and gave Gorgos a high five, “Gorgos…you are a LIFE saver.” He patted her back smiling.

“Okay…” Calie started to speak up with the tone of a disappointed mother, “We put up with quite a bit of weird…and frankly fucked up shit from you Shade…” She shook her head taking a deep breath, “Why do you have two dead bodies?”

Shade smiled and nodded politely at her, “Thank you for being civil about it.” She said flashing a glare over towards Rede, “I need some parts from their bodies for potion making. Live humans are better, but frowned upon even more. So I use recently deceased ones…it’s not like they need their parts anymore.”

“What the hell potions do you need body parts for?!” Rede shouted at him.

“Oh, so you won’t question it when I collect goblin ears for potions, but now that it’s a body of your own race you care? Huh?!?” Shade shouted right back.

“That’s not!” Rede yelled in frustration, “It’s different!”

Shade shook his head, “Racist.” She mumbled before responding, “Part of my success is no one else knowing many of my elaborate recipes for my concoctions. Even though you could never make any of these, I’m not about to break that trend now.”

“Shade…” Calie shook her head, “Did you steal those bodies?”

“Pffffft!” Shade blew her off, “Don’t worry about it so much! I’ll have taken what I needed from them in no time and will return them right back from where I got them in the middle of the night.”

Calie brought her hands up to her face massaging her temples, “Oh dear gods Shade…we’re never going to be able to return to this town.”

Shade shrugged at her, “And that’s a problem because…?” As both Calie and Rede looked at him  like he was an idiot she continued, “This town is small and honestly way out in the middle of nowhere. We’d probably only return here if we set out to return here anyways!”

“On a principle level though!” Rede groaned at him, “You can’t just go stealing dead bodies!”

“I’m just taking a few parts of theirs!” Shade tried to convince him, “It’s not’”

“Guys!” Calie got their attention, “Guys…let’s just move on with life. Nothing we can do about it now Rede.”

Rede grumbled to himself, “Fine…fine…but DON’T do this again.” He snapped at Shade.

“Well, 1 won’t have to for quite some time after this. So you got a deal.” She faked a smile at Rede, “ No Walker yet?” He asked them.

“Not yet, no.” Calie responded.

“Hopefully he shows up soon, by far the best cook we got.” Shade took a deep breath, “Thanks for setting up camp guys, make’s our life much easier.”

“Yea no problem.” Rede reluctantly spoke up, “We like setting up camp.”

“Cuz you two had sex while doing so!” Walker’s voice caught everyone off guard as he walked into camp.

“Did not!” Rede immediately called out.

“I don’t know about that…” Shade teased him, “I’d believe-“

“You got no room to tease, Shade.” Walker cut him off as well with a smirk, “Anyways, what’d’y’all want for dinner? I’m starving.”

Calie quickly pulled out a huge hunk of cow meat before anyone could speak up, “Got this bad boy on sale today.”

“Hmmm…” Walker eyed it over closely, “Yea yea…that should cook up quite nicely.” He quickly ran over to his tent and pulled out his foldable cooking set, setting it up over the fire that Calie and Rede had previously started. Rubbing his hands together quickly Walker licked his lips, “A-ha!” He called out and grabbed the meat from Calie, “Got a plan.”

“So, Walker,” Rede spoke up, “You find anything exciting in town? Shade found two dead bodies for his potion making.”

“Alchemy.” Shade snapped at him.

Walker chuckled at them, “Not directly no…” He paused for a second, “Do we have an actual destination right now?”

“Nah.” Calie told him, “Just wandering looking for work.”

“Think we could head towards either Everclare, Talama, or Phishk?” He asked them.

“Why…?” Shade asked.

“Might be something of interest in all three of those places for me.” Walker admitted, “I would greatly appreciate it.”

Rede sighed, “We aren’t going to Everclare, but unless anyone else had quarrels with one of the other cities, I see no reason as to why we can’t. We’ll find some good work in either of those.” Everyone else shook their heads at them “Well there we go! Guess we have a destination now, which one would you prefer?”

Walker smiled at them, “Let’s hit up Talama. You all will have much more fun there and I can’t say I really want to return to Phishk.”

“You come from there?” Calie asked him.

“Yep!” Walker told her, “Spent most of my life there.”

“Why don’t you want to return then…?”

“Bad memories…”Walker grumbled, “Bad memories.”

“I can respect that.” Shade nodded at him.

“Anyways, it’ll be awhile before this meat’s all cooked up.” Walker told them as he slaved over it, “I’ll call y’all when it’s done.”

“Thanks, man.” Shade smiled, “I’d like to harvest what I need as soon as possible.” He turned and went with Gorgos behind their tent where the pair of bodies were.

“Where’d you learn to cook?” Calie asked him before she took off.

Walker smirked, “Wife couldn’t cook if her life depended on it and as a crime lord I had to host a lot of different races. I learned on the fly, and quickly became a master chef as well.”

“You have a wife?” Calie was shocked. She had never heard of him having a wife before.

Walker glanced over at her with pain in his eyes, “Now I like to cook to help keep my mind occupied.”

Calie nodded respectfully at him, “I’m…”

“Don’t worry about it, Callie.” Walker grimly told her, “You didn’t know because I don’t like to talk about it.” She sat there in silence staring at him, “I’ll call ya when the food is ready. Rede is waiting for you in the tent.”

“For the record we did not have sex!” She said as she slowly stood up.

“No, but that’s what you’re going to do now.” Walker chuckled as she stomped off towards hers and Rede’s tent.

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