#plenty of times were I walked down the row only to realize that I was on the wrong side of the desk because of that fudging bar

[dragontammerz]

I wish those were made up.

hey Americans?

what the fuck is this? this isn't real right. it's made up for tv like those metal lockers

[carolmunson]

carol is at the laundromat.

(reader references being formally catholic as a child.)

New guy, you think, when you shuffle through your apartment door and down the hall — spotting him at the end of it. You’d seen him once or twice before in very brief passing. You’re sure he’d never noticed, you barely noticed him. Only that mop of curly brown hair and the clink of his wallet chain.

“Oh here,” he smiles, holding the door open for you that leads into the stairs to the basement.

“I’m actually not going to the laundry room,” you smile politely but tightly.

“You sure?” his brows quirk behind his curly bangs, brown eyes landing on the laundry in your arm.

“I’m sure,” you nod, “I’m going up the street.”

“Why?” he asks, lifting his full laundry bag higher up his shoulder, “There’s laundry in the building.”

“Eh, when your panties start going missing you stop wanting to use the amenity,” you shrug, “Plus, you’re not gonna find one washer open down there right now.”

“And you are? It’s Sunday — peak laundry day,” he counters. You chuckle, shaking your head — it only makes him more intrigued.

“Maybe downstairs,” you shrug, “You new to the neighborhood or something?”

“Seven months.”

“Hmm,” you nod, “Well, if you didn’t notice yet - lot of churches over here. And if time serves me right, church starts around 9 and runs until 10; sometimes 11.”

Your head tilts toward the clock on the yellowed walls of the hallway, “So, 9:15 is the perfect time to go.”

“No way,” he grins, “I don’t know if I buy it.”

“Don’t take my word for it. Everyone’s at church and everyone who isn’t is probably hung over,” you explain, “You wanna come and see for yourself? Washers are weirdly better over there anyway.”

He looks at the stairs and then at you, then at the clock, and the rainy weather outside. The elevator dings, two people walking by with laundry bags to head down the stairs.

With a sigh, he accepts the fate, “Alright, you got me.”

You both venture out into the soft mist of a dark gray Sunday morning, your IKEA bag of dirty laundry weighing heavy on your shoulder.

“Seventh months, huh? Welcome.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“Ten years,” you laugh, “Not in this building, this is year three. But I’ve been in the area a while.”

“Cool,” he smiles, “I never see you around.”

“I live on the first floor, so our chances of an elevator meet cute are pretty slim,” you pull at the bag again while you turn the corner, he follows suit.

“Oh true, I’m on four.”

“Jealous. Good sun?”

“Yeah,” he smirks bashfully, “Like, really good.”

“That’s good. Though, it’s a good compromise for sharing a floor with Mrs. Slattery.”

“I really thought I was on her good side,” he turns back when he realizes he’s a few steps ahead, “Three weeks in she saw me in a Dio shirt, came home to a cross on my door.”

“She is…” you roll your eyes, crossing the street to the laundromat on the corner, “Easily the most god fearing Catholic I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot.”

You both make your way through the door, loose on its hinges. It’s a dilapidated place, and there’s a better laundromat two more blocks down, but you’re used to this now. The owner in the corner with her earbuds in, listening to gospel while she works on wash and folds. An older man with four bags of clothing on the other side, bedding for the family.

“You weren’t kidding,” he observes the emptiness, putting his laundry over an unused washing machine. There were plenty available for the taking.

“I know,” you murmur while you load your own machine - your favorite one. Row three, four washers down. Medium sized.

He gets to work too, the hardware on his wallet chain and leather jacket jingle like change in the pockets he pulls out of his jeans and sweatpants before he tosses them in to be washed.

Locked and loaded, he stands next to you, “Do you just go back home and come back to switch?”

“I stay for the wash,” you explain, “And then once I switch, there’s a café another block over that I’ve been going to for a while. Normally get breakfast while I wait for my clothes to dry. They have the best fucking biscuits.”

“Okay, okay, I hear that,” he grins, lower lip tucking into his teeth while he pulls his frizzing curls up into a bun at the back of his head, “Mind if I join you?”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” you take a seat on one of the cracked plastic chairs against the windows walls where he follows suit, “Been here almost a year…have you like, explored the neighborhood at all?”

“Honestly?” he holds his shoulders up by his ears with a hint of embarrassment, “Not really. Hate doing shit like that alone.”

“Do you not have friends?” you ask, realizing how accidentally mean it sounds as it comes out. He laughs anyway, heartily.

“Some, not around this area though,” he finishes out with a chuckle.

“Well, I’ll show you the café, there’s a lot of stuff over there that’s pretty cool,” you assure, checking the clock.

“I believe you. I’m not in a position to be saying no to friends in the neighborhood.”

“Good,” you smile, not even caring that you look exactly how you did when you rolled out of bed this morning.

“But if the biscuits are bad, it’s over,” he teases in faux seriousness. Denim leg crossing over the other, Vans now a grey and black from the weather outside.

“You’re gonna be more mad at me over how good they are,” you cross your legging’d legs to match his posture.

“You better hope so,” he huffs playfully, “I’m Eddie by the way.”

“Eddie,” you repeat back, introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have our meet cute on the elevator,” Eddie smiles, “This is much more fun.”

“Also,” he turns, “If you ever wanna see how good the sunlight is upstairs, you can come over if you want.”

[222low]

hi pooks i miss your writing :(

d’you think you could do an enemies to lovers sort of fic w yangyang/winwin/mark/haechan/jaehyun? take your pick!!

enemies to lovers yangyang ✧₊⁺

you thought you both hated each other, but you soon figure out that wasn't the case at all.

content: academic rivals, fluff, teasing, suggestive (?), kind of just little scenarios not a whole fic #lazy..hopefully i did yy well i love him sm

you'd known yangyang since you two were little, and this rivalry had been going on since you two both scored the highest on your 2nd grade test.

he'd always been a cocky guy, teasing you if he ever got the higher test score, raising his hand before you, making sure he got the best seat in the classroom

you were both all grown up now, obviously, but you would have not expected to see him when you walked into your lecture.

throughout high school, you would see him grow up...but something about how he looked now, more mature, had you staring longer than usual.

you sat down in the same row as him, but not too close, as he grinned at you. you hated that grin.

it wasn't until you guys were paired together for a project that you knew you were fucked.

it's not like you didn't know who yangyang was. not that you weren't comfortable working with him, it just wasn't idealistic.

you sucked it up anyways.

this didn't go as planned. you guys disagreed on every little thing. you couldn't even get past if you were gonna use a poster or an online slideshow when presenting.

you guys decided on an poster (of course, you got what you wanted) and made plans to meet in the schools library twice a week.

plenty of time to get it done, right? wrong. you guys bickered the whole time..only to realize you looked stupid in this library, arguing about a simple project.

maybe it was because you two were so used to going against each other, your routes of doing work clashed, but you tried to make it work for the sake of both of your grades.

amp-ing up the time to 3 times a week..the final stretch of the project, you realized hanging out with yangyang wasn't too bad.

he would always crack jokes...the stupidest jokes, but you had to laugh. it was kinda cute of him.

i guess you were staring, because all of a sudden the laughing stopped and he had been looking at you, confused.

you brushed it off quickly before getting back to work, a light pink hue dusting his cheeks.

you realize that even though you two have very different work ethics, you can see why he's at the top of his class.

yangyang had complimented how you weren't all too bad, and working with you was bearable...couldn't use any other word??

you couldn't deny it though, it was pretty interesting hanging out with yangyang. you guys had caught up on highschool..since you weren't too close.

he told you about all of his friends and how they had started a band, and you thought to yourself, maybe yangyang wasn't this evil rival you've been going at for the last 10 years about whos grade was the best.

after one of your study sessions, yangyang had asked you if you wanted to grab lunch. this is the first of many lunches you guys had went out to.

trying out different places in the area was fun for the two of you now. the project had been due already (and of course you both passed with flying colors), but for some reason you two had still been hanging out, if not three at least two times a week.

it wasn't until yangyang became a little bit flirty with you, complimenting your outfits more, making sure to pay for your meals, etc. that you had started to feel a certain type of way.

you really thought long and hard about these feeling for him. did you really feel like this? maybe it was just because you were forced to hang out with each other...but why'd you keep going? he did get more mature..taller..handsome. and he could be sweet sometimes.

you had a crush on yangyang.

something you never thought you'd say. or even think.

little did you know, he was gonna ask you on a date. of course, these lunch dates we're "dates", but neither of you established that. oh to be young, dumb, and in love.

he was always a confident guy, but somehow he was super nervous to ask you out. what if you were just going because you felt bad for him? or because you both did the project together, now you were obligated?

but he knew deep down you enjoyed his company. enjoyed being with him.

he asked you if you'd like to go to dinner with him. on an actual date, not just these lunch get togethers.

holding his breath waiting for your response, he was beyond relieved when you said yes, smiling from ear to ear.

you blushed. you really liked that smile.

you still remember that first date. he picked you up, complimented your beautiful outfit. couldn't keep his eyes off of you, even on the way there. you had to remind him to make sure he was driving.

he held doors open for you, paid for your meal, bought you a drink. (what a gentleman!)

this was just the beginning of many dinner dates, and of course, where it all started, lunch ones.

now, your boyfriend yangyang surprises you with your favorite snacks at your library study sessions.

you boyfriend yangyang that saves you a seat next to him in all of your lectures.

your boyfriend yangyang that now invites you over when your study sessions are at night, insisting that you cuddle and watch a movie together to decompress.

your boyfriend yangyang you gives you butterflies in your stomach every time he kisses you. whether it's on the cheek before you walk into class, or when you guys get a little bit side-tracked alone during a movie on his couch.

your boyfriend yangyang who knows you're a little stressed about the upcoming test, so he draws little doodles on sticky notes and puts them on your notebook everyday, being your number one cheerleader.

your boyfriend yangyang who still teases you when he gets a higher score than you, out of love, of course.

a/n: REQS OPEN! thank u for the req anonnnn !! jas active era?? maybe...but i was excited to write this one. can you tell i love yangyang? got a little carried away...hopefully it's up to par with what you were expecting..im honestly not great at sitting down and writing full stories, so im hoping this worked out alright :3 i especially enjoyed writing the last part. i do wanna get to writing solo work for other members too..but im going thru a yangyang brainrot and have to feed into it..but who's complainin!!! hope u all enjoyed reading <3

[steddieas-shegoes]

love doesn't wait

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'this one's for you'

rated m | 685 words | cw: implied/referenced sex | tags: famous corroded coffin, side steddie, jeff's love story, love confessions

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Jeff didn't really think much about finding love, his focus too honed in on becoming a rockstar for most of his childhood and young adulthood. He hooked up, sure, but it was rare, and never lasted more than one night.

Love was for later, after he had hit singles and Grammy awards and music videos.

But love doesn't wait, and it certainly doesn't come when you plan for it.

Amy came out of nowhere.

She was front row at a show, and Jeff swears the spotlight stopped right on her. Eddie jokes that it was the angels pointing her out just for Jeff.

He managed to get security to find her right after the show, invited her backstage, and they were barely apart ever since.

She was on summer break from college, so she had nothing but time for him for two months.

It was fast, it was a little stupid, and it made him realize that being a rockstar wasn't everything he wanted.

On the last night that Amy would be with him, she stood backstage with Steve and Sam, watching with a fond smile as they performed.

"It's been great being so close to home, Indy!" Jeff yelled into the mic. "If it's okay with you, we're gonna take it slow for the next song. I've got a special someone here with me tonight. She's heading back home tomorrow and I'm gonna miss her pretty bad. This one's for you, love."

Jeff wasn't a big fan of playing acoustically, reserved their slow songs for Eddie's serenading of Steve most nights. But this was his way of saying what he'd already wanted to say for a while, and the guys had supported him.

"You get used to it," Steve nudged Amy's arm towards the end of the song, smiling at her as she wiped tears from her cheeks. "Kinda. Don't know if it's possible to ever get used to being serenaded in an arena full of 15,000 people."

"Yeah. This is a little crazy." She laughed when Jeff finished the song and threw a wink her way. "I don't wanna go back."

Steve looked over at her, curious, searching for any sign of her lying. When he didn't find any, he smiled. "Then don't. No one said you have to go to school right now. Life happens out of order sometimes."

Amy couldn't take her eyes off of Jeff as she nodded. "My parents will kill me."

"I've got plenty of experience with murderous parents." Steve placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing once. "What you've got here is worth more than their approval."

He walked away, probably to get snacks for the guys ready in the room backstage. They only had a couple more songs before they'd be done for the night.

Amy watched Jeff finish up.

She knew what she wanted. She knew it would be hard to do.

She knew it was worth it.

****

"I'm gonna stay," she whispered to him that night in bed, still coming down from the high of the show and the two orgasms he'd wrung from her so easily. "Can I?"

Jeff's arms tightened around her. "What about school?"

"I can go back in a few years. I don't wanna miss this with you."

"Won't your parents be mad?" He asked, tilting her face up by her chin to smile down at her.

"Yeah. But they aren't the ones who have to live my life. I love you and I wanna be with you."

"You love me?"

She slapped his chest, laughing. "Of course I do! You just sang a song for me in front of a huge crowd after two months of holding my hand everywhere we go."

"Well, when you put it like that..." Jeff rolled over until he was hovering over her, smiling down at the love of his life. "I think it's pretty clear I love you too."

"Maybe you could show me one more time tonight?" She kissed his neck, smiling against his skin as he groaned.

"You're lucky you're so hot."

"No, you're lucky I'm so hot."

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Not me already have written this part the day after I posted the first one 🤭. I wanna add titles to the chapters but idk what I’d have them be, probably lyrics from songs I like lol. Once again, apologies now for If Miguel is ooc and if the terminology and sports talk is wrong. If you’re experienced in either sport and wanted to lmk if I got something wrong. If you want to be added to the taglist lmk too.

(Y/N)- Your name, (L/N)- Last name.

No warnings, Just Miguel and you interacting lol. Idk if this is consider filler but it’s meant to get the ball rolling lol.

Word count: 1.3k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the tide,

—

It’s been about a week since you’ve last ran into Miguel at the arena, surprisingly the figure skating team don’t run into the hockey team as much as you would think despite having to share a communal space on campus. Unfortunately, today was one of those days were you did run into them. You’ve arrived about 45 minutes early to practice, Logan nor coach Kavinsky were here yet. You were hoping to get some alone time on the ice before practice, but it had slipped your mind that today was Thursday, and on Thursdays the hockey team practiced before you rather then after like the rest of the week. As you dropped your gym back on the bench in the girl’s locker room, you were debating to whether you wanted to just wait at the arena till they were done, or walk back to your dorm. The only problem with the latter option is that the dorm buildings were all the way across campus, and by the time you finished the walk you’d have to turn around to walk back anyways.

So you stuck it up, and changed into your practice outfit, your skates in hand as you leave the locker room, deciding to keep your regular shoes on so you could at least get your stretching out of the way before your coach and partner came. You quickly went into one of the empty dance rooms that the arena had to do warm up stretches in, popping in your headphones to listen to your favorite song. After about 15 minutes you still had plenty of time before The Spiders got off the ice, you decided to just walk around the stadium. No destination in mind, just where ever your feet decided to carry you as your music continue to play in your ears. You can’t really say you were surprised to find yourself ending up in the main area with the ice rink, plopping yourself down in one of the front row seats as you let your brain go on autopilot.

You were too busy being lost in the music, you didn’t realize you were staring into space until you say a large tan hand appear in front of your face and began to snap its fingers, pulling you back into the moment.

“hellooo? Earth to ice princess.”

“Huh?” You shot up to sit straighter, blinking a bit as you take out your headphones, turning your head to look at the person who had just snapped you back into reality. “Look I know I’m attractive and all, but you don’t have to stare-“ Miguel begins, a cocky smirk on his face that you just wanted to smack off. One of his large hands going up to take off this helmet, his dark brown hair that was usually slicked back was now messy from the helmet, a thin coat of sweat covering his forehead. You cut him off, “ew, why would I be staring at you?” You question, your face slightly scrunched in distaste at the thought.

“You’ve been looking in my direction at the past 20 minutes.” He smirks as his teammates start to put away all their hockey equipment behind him, not paying attention to you both talk. You gave him a confused look before you realize why he might have been thinking that, “Oooooh-no-no I was just zoning out, I wasn’t staring at you on purpose.” You quickly explain, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with your gloved hand, attempting to keep eye contact with the hockey player.

For a second, it looked like Miguel’s cocky exterior faltered, before coming back up. “Uh huh…sure.” He tone dripping with sarcasm as he drops his helmet onto a seat, then taking a seat next to you. His action caught you by surprise but you didn’t let it show, you also didn’t want to show the annoyance that filled your body from the taunting comment. “Why are you even here this early? Where is your little boyfriend?” He asked as turns his body towards you, resting the hand closest to you on his knee, his forearm that was further from you going to rest on his other knee. He was manspreading a bit, his eyes raking over your form slowly.

“Jesus why is it so warm in here all of a sudden? Usually I’m freezing my nonexistent balls off…” You thought as you shifted in your seat a bit, feeling the need to distract yourself, you start to change into your skates. “I wanted to get some time on the ice alone before practice but I forgot it was Thursday and- wait. Boyfriend?”

Miguel chuckled at your surprised reaction, turning his head away slightly, the hand that was resting on his knee came up to cover the smile that was creeping up on his face from your reaction. After a second or two he cleared his throat, his hand dropping back down to his knee as he turns to face you again with a neutral expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend, the one you skate with. What’s his name again? Lincoln? Liam?” Miguel knew his name, he just wanted to see if you’d correct him.

“Logan?”

Miguel tried his best not to scowl.

“Yeah, Logan-whatever-where’s he at?” He asked, he’s words come out annoyed and a bit rushed. “Well for one, he’s not my boyfriend, just my figure skating partner.” You start as you tilted your head to the side as you look at him, saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Now Miguel is trying his hardest not to let a huge shit eating grin spread across his lips. “And second, he’s probably on his way, he had a class today before practice-some science thing- I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders as you finish speaking.

Speaking of the devil, Logan and Coach Kavinsky appear through the front double door. “Ah! (Y/N), already here. Perfect! Let’s get straight into it.” She said with a smile as she seemingly ignore Miguel’s presence next to you, Logan stops next to you as you both took the guards off your skates, him shooting you a knowing look, his lips twitching up into small smirk as his eyes drift between you and Miguel. “I swear to God…if he brings this up later…” You start to think but a voice cut you off.

“Hey Cap!” One of the hockey players called out for Miguel’s attention, “We just finished packing up, you coming?” He asked as he skate to the edge of the rink, before getting out, a few of the other lingering players that were making sure all the equipment was all packed up doing the same. As soon as the other player was done speak to Miguel, he took off his helmet revealing (messy from the helmet and some sweat) light brown hair and brown eyes, his lower half of his face covered with a 5 o’ clock shadow and you noticed his nose was slightly croaked, probably him having broken it from a past game.

Miguel let out a heavy sigh, before turning towards the other player. “Yeah Parker, I’m going.” He grumbled as he brought his hand up to rub his face before giving you one more quick glance and getting up, leaving with the rest of who was left from his team, without another word. For some reason, that bothered you, causing your brows furrowed as your lips fall into a small frown.

“Rude…” you mumbled as you got up from your seat, Logan heard this and let out a small snort as he steps on to the ice. “Don’t overthink it (L/N), that’s just how he is.” Your partner tried to reassure you, you send him a small smile back and a quick nod of your head.

“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t overthink it.” You repeat his words, as you went to enter the rink as well, but it was a bit too late for that, because you already were overthink it.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh

[dominimoonbeam]

hi domini! im a big fan of your writing and have read every one of your redacted fics, you are incredibly talented and with each fic you upload you never fail to amaze me and lead me into a deeper obsession with your work

this is just a fic request! no pressure to write this any time soon, or at all, especially with your new job and moving day soon! my request is:

david/darlin neighbour au? like david always giving darlin leftovers because he "cooked too much food" for the 50th night in a row

again, you don't have to write this, especially with how i didn't give you much to work with lol. i just thought of it and would love to see you write it! good luck with your moving day soon, im so excited to see the pictures and so happy for you! have a great week and sorry for the long message <3

Anon, thank you so much for this!

I know it's been so long since you sent me these incredibly kind words and this ask and I haven't written any fics in that time. This was such a great way to get back into the characters and the fun of working on fics. I hope you enjoy this starter and know that your words really meant a lot. Thank you!

Neighbor AU.

Darlin/David

I will absolutely be posting this on ao3 soon and hopefully adding more to it. <3 <3

It started in the laundry room.

They’d been living in the same building, on the same floor, in the same corridor for the last year but never spoken—not until that evening in the laundry room.

David was putting a load in when the other tenant came downstairs, no basket in hand, just an armful of t-shirts, underwear, and towels. He tried not to watch but it was impossible. He’d caught plenty of glimpses of them over the months, in the hall and on the elevator. They were a storm wearing skin and a leather jacket.

With a huff, they crammed the ball of fabric into a machine and then peeled their shirt off and kicked off their boots, huffing annoyance as they unbuttoned and squirmed out of their jeans.

There was no way they thought they were alone in the room. David was not the sort of man that went unnoticed. He slammed the lid on his machine just in case.

The other tenant pulled their phone from the pocket of their jeans along with a wad of cash, and put it down to the side before closing the machine.

David raised an eyebrow and looked at them, really looked at them, wearing nothing but underwear and stepping back into their boots. They were lanky, all muscle and bruises. One hand rubbed the back of their head, ruffling their hair while jabbing the buttons to start the machine. “What?” they snapped, not even looking at him.

Their knuckles were raw and bloody and their side looked splotchy, like those ribs would be bruised tomorrow.

“Bad day?” David asked the scrapper.

They huffed again, this time grinning and turning enough to look at him. They had blood on their teeth and in their hair. “Nope.” They picked up their phone and the crumpled bills, both of them walking out of the laundry room and down the long hall to the elevator.

David followed them into the lift and waited. They jabbed the button for their floor.

They both walked down the hall, almost together.

The scrapper peeled off first at their door, only a handful of steps before David’s. They shared a wall. He only realized they weren’t carrying keys when they opened their apartment door. They hadn’t even locked it.

What a mess, he thought with a smile.

He saw them again when he was on his way to the basement to move his laundry to the dryer. They had showered and were wearing a pair of sweatpants.

They leaned against the dryer after starting it and watched him, not unlike how he’d watched them when they were stripping down an hour ago.

David let them. He’d called most people out on eyeing him in his life but this seemed like fair turn around. They started their machines and took the hall together again. This time, in the elevator, their stomach growled.

The scrapper rolled their eyes like it was a familiar nag and not a biological function reminding them of hunger.

He wasn’t sure what made him do it. He wasn’t exactly known for making the first move in making friends. “Do you like enchiladas?!

The door plinged when it opened and their neighbor looked over their shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised. The brow was split by an old scar. “What?”

“I made enchiladas yesterday. It’s too much. Do you want some?”

They were walking again, both of them moving a little slower than usual down the hall toward their doors. “Is that your way of inviting me in?”

He snorted. “I’m not inviting you in. You’ll get blood on my rug. I’m asking if you want some of the leftovers.”

Their smirk sharpened. “Do you think I don’t have food?”

He bit back a laugh, suddenly willing to bet their fridge was empty. “Forget I asked.”

They were at their door but paused.

He felt their gaze on him, considering him. He unlocked his apartment and was one step in when they suddenly said, “Okay.”

He looked back at them, standing in the hallway outside their door. They looked unsure and suddenly younger, softer. He could see the echo of what he imagined they’d been like as a kid, before they got tough. He nodded. “I’ll grab you a plate.” He held out his hand. “My name’s David.”

Their gaze flicked to his hand like trust didn’t come naturally, but they closed the distance and took it. “Darlin.”

He smiled before he could catch himself.

Luckily, they smiled back. “I know. Either my parents had a really different idea for who I’d be or they were assholes.”

David shrugged, dropping their hand after maybe a second too long of holding it to duck inside and make his way for the kitchen. “Maybe it suits you,” he said.

Darlin laughed, leaning against his open doorway. He didn’t mind if they came inside but he wasn’t sure they were willing to. Interesting. They’d leave their door unlocked but they weren’t quite ready to walk into a stranger’s apartment. “Yeah. Like calling someone tall Shorty.”

He laughed and pulled the dish out of the fridge. He cut a few enchiladas free and scooped them onto a plate. He would have wrapped it if he wasn’t sure they were going to eat it right away. He paused with it in hand and look at them. “Do you need to borrow a fork?”

Darlin’s expression bloomed in a huge grin. “Fuck you,” they laughed, holding out a hand for the food.

He crossed his apartment to put it in their hand. “See you around, Darlin,” he said.

They nodded, still smiling when they walked back to their place and inside.

David thought about that smile and that laugh all day afterward and the next time he saw them in the hall they talked more and Darlin had him wait in the hall to bring him the plate. They’d even washed it and promised they’d used soap and not just licked it clean. He tried to ignore the jolt that mental imagine sent through his whole body, but something about the way they bit their smile suggested they’d seen it too.

[ac3-76]

Cole Brookstone Headcannons

warnings: slight cussing? mentions of racial stereotypes/discrimination

General

He was the sexiest man alive 3 years in a row

He also dabbled in modeling

he didn't even try either, a modeling agent saw him and gave him a business card

Cole went to one interview, the next thing he knows he's walking down the runway with Bella Hadid

he's a thought son

does a lot of stuff on social platforms to spread awareness for racial discrimination, politics, and cancer reaserch

if they were to have BLM protests in Ninjago, he would throw tear gas back at cops

He has the BIGGEST resting bitch face ever

obviously he loves cake, but he loves brownies with caramel drizzle and a sprinkle of sea salt on top even more than he loves cake

he really loves Dolly Partons Carmel Turtle mix

He loves Dolly Parton in General

He only drinks water

He HATES those "make my water of the day with me" videos

like JUST DRINK WATER THROUGH OUT THE DAY!?! HELLO?!

Gossip/debrief sessions with Nya are a weekly occurrence

the reason Nya was so confused abt Jay vs Cole in season 3/4/5 is because of how close Nya and Cole already were

But after she stepped away from both of them and thought about her relationship with each of them, she realized Cole was like a sister to her

And I mean sister

She's never had a sister before but her relationship with Cole is exactly how she imagines sister relationships

Nya introduces him as her sister and he's chill with it

He works out with Kai

but unlike Kai, Cole LOVES rest days

he goes to yoga 3 or 4 times a week and is besties with his yoga instructor Andy

Andy and her girlfriend got married and he went to the wedding, that's how close they are

I feel like he's friends with a lot of lesbians

idk they just kinda gravitate towards him

Cole is 6'3

he's also black

he has snake bite piercings

his mom's favorite tree was a maple tree, so he got a maple leaf tattooed behind his right ear

his mom would always tuck his braids or dreads behind his right ear.

he also has a hand tattoo that looks something like this:

I'm not saying Ninjago has a lot of racial stereotypes or discrimination

but, when they see 6'3, muscular, tatted, pierced, black. resting bitch face Cole walking down the street people tend to label him as scary or dangerous

because of this he's always afraid of coming off as creepy or weird when he tries to talk to someone

Dating

His body is so large, solid, and muscular and it's perfect for hugs and cuddling

He doesn't care about cuddling position- if you guys are comfortable and can fall asleep, its perfect

his favorite place to kiss is your forehead and your shoulders

his love language is acts of service

"my room is too bright in the morning, even with my blinds shut" the next day he has blackout curtains installed

"I always hit my head on that one cabinet" idk how but thanks to his handy work you no longer bump your head on that cabinet

"I wish my kitchen had sodalite counters" You have sodalite counters now(the good thing is, it was mostly free too, he just used his earth powers to find enough sodalite for your counter)

You guys met when the ninjas went out to a restaurant to celebrate whatever victory they had just had

and because he's used to being stereotyped as scary or weird for the way he looks, when you approached him to ask for his number he was shocked and supprised

he was happy about it tho because he had been glancing at you the whole time the team was at the restaurant

You're first date? Mini golfing.

He's been thinking about the perfect first date FOR. YEARS.

why is mini golfing the perfect first date?

Public setting for both parties feeling safe

mini golfing is fun and fairly inexpensive

mini golfing provides plenty of time to talk and chat, but if an awkward moment arises there's something to do

done golfing and now we're hungry?

cheap and decent food inside

done eating but don't want to end the date?

most mini golf places have arcades

AND most arcade games are meant for 2 people

want to take some cute photos?

Most arcades have photo booths for taking cute pics

Cole has been planing a mini golfing first date for years, and just needed someone with the right energy to do it with

Romcom type relationship

You guys meet in a cute romcomy way, have a cute romcomy first date, then you have some sort of romcomy problem, then work things out and live happily ever after

I feel like the romcomy problem wouldn't be very romcomy tho, maybe you guys met before he was a ghost, and him being a ghost was the problem you worked through?

he would keep 1 flower from every boquet he gives to you so he knows when the bouquet is dying, then he gets you fresh flowers

You always have fresh flowers from him, for the entirety of ur relationship

he's a thought son so you would stay up talking about what you guys want your future to look like

He's used to you waking him up in the middle of the night because he was snoring

He gives great advice, but before he gives it he asks if you want comfort or advice

he's also really good at comforting you

he just knows exactly how to make you feel safe and understood

you'd go to yoga with him, Andy and her girlfriend(now wife) would love you

if you guys did want kids, Cole would be the perfect dad

Physical touch is his 2nd love language, but he doesn't rlly like PDA

most touches in public are pinky or hand holding(he would do the thumb thing), putting his hand on the small of your back when going through crowds, maybe a peck on the temple here and there

but in private he can't get his hands off you

he just wants to touch you in any and every way possible

he's infatuated by you

he sends you tiktoks of an orange cat(him) and some other cat(color/type depending on ur personality) and says us

he sends you couple trends and says "we should do this"

"if I every won the lottery, oh wait, I already did" yeah. he did that, first 2 slides were him, and the other 30 were pics of you

"oh that's pretty, imma take a picture" yep.

he has life 360 with you

not in a weird way, obvi, in like a oh this fun way

You're like the parents of the team

Jay and Nya are the uncle and aunt

In another universe the four of you are drinking wine and talking about how annoying some coworkers have been recently

[spinningbuster98]

Metroid Other M Part 3: Speedrunners' bane

And Sector 1 is still going!

Yeah Other M is a longer game than the other 2D entries, about 6 hours or so, which is about the length of a Prime game (though about half of those hours is made up of cutscenes), which also means that you’re gonna be spending much more time in these Sectors than you would in Fusion, but even by those standards your first visit to Sector 1 really drags, especially when it has you fight against the same tree-like miniboss twice

Speaking of Sectors: yeah Other M is rather shameless in just copying Fusion’s homework at every chance it gets, right down to taking place on a Space Station made up of Sectors which imitate the environments of other planets. Boy does this game have little imagination

Now let’s be fair: 2D Metroid has always been a little bit weak in terms of environments ever since Fusion itself, whose Sectors were mostly rather elementary: jungle, fire, ice, dark, water and SR388. The Primes are just a heck of a lot more creative and unique in their art direction (though Prime 1 was also pretty by the numbers), but even by those standards Other M doesn’t even try: once again jungle land, once again fire land and once again snow land. They may not be exactly the same as in Fusion but they look very bland and boring

Graphically speaking Other M is technically one of the best Wii games when it comes to the CG cutscenes (which look incredible even to this day) and the 3D models whose textures look really good for the console. The environments however look very drab, lacking in color and just overall feel lifeless and uninspired, which isn’t helped at all by the fact that the last game to come out was Prime 3, 3 years earlier and on the same console.

The moment you reach the facility is when the game starts doing something cool only to totally shit on itself: it’s actually pretty eerie going in! The music is creepy, the place is a mess and there are broken robots everywhere. It actually builds up a nice sense of creepiness and anticipation!

...and then the game has you slow to a goddamn crawl.

Other M has plenty of moments where Samus will just refuse to run and just walk slowly in order to increase “le tenshiòn!”. I’m fine with them when they’re used sparingly, they can be effective in short bursts, but here the game has you go through half of this place while walking at a snail’s pace, twice in a row with minutes long cutscenes in between. This fucking draaaaags and nukes the pacing! On repeated playthroughs it effectively becomes the worst part of the game!

On the topic of the story, as much as this game is bootleg Fusion I will concede that the idea of centering a good amount of the plot on finding the one survivor of this mess in order to get answers as to what happened here is a good one, as it helps keep up the mystery of what happened in this place. That was originally the impetus of Fusion as well, except that the mystery of what happened on the BSL gets solved not even 5 minutes in and there end up being no survivors left. I’m not saying that Othem M will do a good job with these plotpoints, just that it was a good call to focus on them

Another thing I will concede is the fact that the story points out the fact that a space station housing Zebesians is all kinds of wrong. If you remember I criticized Fusion for featuring Zebesians and even Ridley on the BSL while having Samus not react in any way to them, which is stupid given that her finding the hidden Metroid lab is framed as the moment she finally realized that something was wrong with the place...even though she should’ve realized this as early as Sector 1, so I’m glad that Other M at least acknowledges that having these creatures on board is a big red flag as to the activities that were going on inside the BOTTLE ship

...at the same though I have to ask: why didin’t the game point this stuff out earlier? We just fought a bunch of Kihunters earlier. According to the manual for Super Metroid these guys are actual sentient creatures that are allies of the Space Pirates, having helped them to reconstruct their forces on Zebes

Yet this game seems to treat them as any regular old monsters. Why? Did the story forget about this detail? Is this info being retconned? Was it something that the American manual made up?

The game has this nasty habit of pulling you into first person mode during specific times and having you look for “something” to point the wiimote at. It’s supposed to feel “investigative” but you can genuinely get stuck because you often don’t know what you’re looking for and the details are often tiny and barely visible, like spotting a sploch of green liquid in the middle of a mostly green field, not to mention the reticule is really finicky on whether or not it will appear when you pass the pointer over the intended objective

This is also when we get to fight our “Mystery Creature”. It sucks. It’s a game of wackamole basically until Anthony decides to save your ass because God forbid Adam authorize Samus to use her more powerful abilities to save herself or Samus herself think about saving her own skin even if it mean making senpai upset...

...but on that matter...

[dear-mortality]

The shepherd prince

Chapter eight: a lesson about zatieon

Chapters

Enfys woke up the next day with their back cracking like little branches and a little cranky. Ether wasn't so affected by camping outside.

"Dear gods I forgot how this feels. I've gotten soft." Said enfys while stretching a little and bending his back.

"If it's so bad I can carry you upside down. I used to do that sometime for fun and i could hear plenty of cracks then." Ether suggested

Enfys's face changed into a look of horror

"THAT'D HURT LIKE CRAZY." He answered. Looking in pain just imagining that scenario. "I'll be fine. Let's just keep walking, we need to get to zatieon a little earlier than we told the ruler." He said while sprinting, his back cracked a few times through that but it stopped after.

"Oh yeah. What's zatieon? I remember the word from somewhere." Ether asked in confusion

"I forgot you dont know alot about anything outside the ruins. Zatieon is a neighbouring country to your fallen kingdom. Though the connection between the two nations was.....bad. the king and the last ruler of zatieon hated each other alot." Enfys talked while bringing out an atlas and showing ether the map. "See? It's not too far from you but the last ruler forbade any news or any sort of acknowledgement of your existence. The people didnt protest- they kinda hated your kingdom alot too. But your father sealed the deal by insulting the ruler and well. It's the reason they JUST realized your kingdom has fallen after over 20 years."

Ether looked a little sad but not surprised. "So nobody liked my kingdom and nobody cared when it fell huh?"

Enfys closed the atlas and looked him in the eyes. "They may have deserved alot but they didnt deserve this torture. My family doesn't think so. I dont either. And I dont think you deserve this fate at all ether." Enfys stopped him before saying this as to get him to focus. Ether looked like he blushed a little.

"Thank you.....hey what do I need to know about zatieon? Anything interesting?" He said while walking again hastily to change the subject. Enfys saw right through him but he played along.

"Well you see zatieon is a biiiiiig country. They didnt do any conquests or anything they just kinda flocked together from around the continent at the orders of some wealthy family heads who wanted to unite under one nation. They took as much space as they wanted and honestly it helped keep the country afloat. The country is run by the last rulers child- the one we're meeting- zaroth. The rulers keep the names and looks of their children a secret until they need to resign."

Ether looked interested. "That sounds very strange. To not know how your rulers children look."

"Oh its because they fight over the throne when the ruler steps down."

"Huh?" Ether exclaimed in surprise.

"The children of the ruler join the battle for the throne. After the ruler feels like they're getting too old to rule or feel like they want to retire they issue a form of tournament. The people in said tournament compete in many ways that show wits, strategical prowess and battle capabilities. They do it infront of an audience and they even get a watchbug to keep track of the whole thing to show it to everyone later. Contenders only get disqualified after they fail 2 trials in a row of the same type. The children of the ruler join the fray and have to earn their spot in the tournament. Of course the children get trained and everything before this moment but it guarantees no one will go easy on them or try to harm them too much based on a grudge. At the very end the contenders go against the ruler himself and they're either in or out. Zaroth and their sister aimanat competed and as I heard they both won against their father. And right when they were about to fight each other aimanat kneeled and swore allegiance to zaroth."

Ether looked fascinated and in awe. "So we are going into a country ruled by THE greatest person in it as they earned that title???? AND WE'RE MEETING THAT PERSON???"

Enfys looked a little jealous of how excited ether was to meet zaroth. "...yes."

"Alright then we're going to the river right before we get there."

"I'm sorry?"

"I need to wash myself before I meet that person. Oh I'll need your help hiding this though. *gesturing at his werewolf arm*"

".....sure!" enfys smiled a smile with full teeth that looked like it was forced but ether didn't notice.

"I'm so excited now! Anything else about zatieon? Anything else amazing?" Ether had star eyes while getting her face close to enfys's

"W-well....." enfys looked a little flustered. "There is ONE more thing. The people of zatieon have the ability to hear the magic going through things on command."

Ether slanted his head "hear?"

"Yes. Remember how I told you that your body makes a sort of current of magic whenever you use it? They can hear the power of your soul and how much magic you let go through your body when you make a spell."

"That sounds like alot of pain. You said magic is in every living being. They'd go insane."

"Well no they have this weird ability to center it on one thing. They studied its limits and everything but they have no idea of the origin. They only knew it started appearing sometime after the country was established."

Ether put his hand on his chin and wondered for a few seconds on why that would be.

"Well why dont we try finding it out! Like right now! I'm bored and my brain is totally burnt from all this information so I cant hear much more of it haha."

Enfys smiled and rolled their eyes. "Sure. Lets solve a mystery even the people who have the ability cant." He said sarcastically

"That's the spirit!"

"Wait ether-"

"So I think it maybe something they eat! Like how some plants make your mouth smell good for a while. "

Ether and enfys then kept arguing and brainstorming about this until night came. This time they had the sweet potatoes ready as ether brought extra.

Ether also tried getting the ground to be a little nicer on enfys's back. Enfys appreciated it. They laid down to sleep but kept the pheonix nest around.

"Hey enfys?"

"Hm?"

"I was wondering who the gods are. You mentioned them earlier today."

Enfys looked a little pleased. "You're one good student you know that?"

"Alright Alright! Let me do this how it should be done though." Enfys started making clouds and fog similar to what ether saw when enfys told him a story. Ether sat up straight, his excitement was apparent on how his eyes shined. "Its story time."

".....hehehehe. well now I do. But come on tell me!"

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @eatdearth, @realmackross TIMING: Mid-Late June, not too long after Mack's arrival to Wicked's Rest SUMMARY: Two lost souls looking to bury their sorrows in drinks come together to form a new friendship. WARNINGS: Alcoholism tw, mental health tw

Mackenzie needed a drink. No. She needed several drinks. Living in the stupor she had been in for quite some time was getting somewhat old, so venturing out beyond her normal day to day activities just felt right. That’s why she had currently found herself standing in front of The Wormhole. It was the roughest looking bar she had seen, and if a fight or two broke out, even better.

Walking inside, she was greeted by a haze of smoke, the sound of whiskey being poured and glasses being drunkenly slammed down on the bar as a sign of needing another shot. Mackenzie glanced around before moving over and finding a seat one stool down from someone who looked just as down on their luck as she did, “I’ll have a double of the strongest stuff you carry. Thanks.” Turning her head, Mack spoke to the stranger sitting near her, “Come here often?”

—

The Wormhole wasn’t a place Jasper frequented. Worm Row wasn’t a neighborhood he wanted to visit. Not ever. The place scared him. He’s heard numerous bad things about it, though he paid more attention to the violence and danger that his students and even some colleagues have shared within his earshot. But when a pretty girl chatted him up online and told him she wanted to finally meet up, Jasper gathered all his courage to come all the way down to this place, only to get mugged in a darkened alley where he thought something else was waiting for him. Yikes.

Jasper had just taken a sip of his half-empty glass when someone sat beside him. Well, one stool down. To him, that was close enough. He tried his best to appear local so he wouldn’t get targeted again, but all that leaning forward, hunching his back, made him look even more vulnerable, scared, like a dumbfounded duck stuck in the middle of a lake filled with crocodiles. Another yikes. 

“Hmm?” Was that a pick-up line? Jasper was surprised, so much so that he hesitantly turned toward her, his face beaming when he realized she wasn’t a massive muscle-bound jerk with a baseball hat and a bandana designed after the American flag. Hoo-rah! “Oh, y-yeah! For sure. This place is my favorite place in town. The food here is great. H-have you tried the…” The geology professor squinted, trying to read the menu, more appropriately find a food item on there that wasn’t just a bag of freaking chips, but failed miserably. “...I’m Jasper, by the way. Enchante!”

—

Mackenzie could tell the man was nervous. Which had somewhat surprised her, because she was the least intimidating looking person in the room, even though she could rip your heart right out of your chest if she were hungry enough. Lucky for him, she wasn’t. But she had seen plenty of starstruck fans, and while this wasn’t quite the same, she knew a little extra charm might have been needed to calm his fears, despite the effort it took, “Really? You don’t seem so sure about that.” She offered him a friendly smile as she watched him stumble through his words, finally ending with his name, “But it’s nice to meet you, Jasper. I’m Mack.”

Watching the glass filled with a dark liquid come sliding her way, Mackenzie stuck out her hand and caught it. She wasn’t sure what kind of treat she was in for, but she was hoping it would have some kick, “Bottoms up, I guess.” And with that, Mack threw her head back taking in the liquid that barely made a dent in her taste buds. “Not what I expected, but I think it’ll do the trick.” She turned to the bartender, “I’ll have another and a basket of fries.” If she was going to drink, she was going to eat as well, despite how dull it all tasted.

“So what brings you out tonight? And here of all places…” Mack couldn’t really judge the man as she sat right next to him drowning her sorrows in alcohol. It seemed like The Wormhole was definitely the right place for the brokenhearted and downtrodden.

—

Jasper tried to apologize with his face, an awkward shrug with an even more awkward grin, but only made it worse. Or at least he thought that made it worse. Most people would. “Mack…” he nodded his head, mouthing the words a few more times, as if imprinting it in his head. There was something about the name that made him think. As he squinted his dark brown eyes on her face, something else added to that other something. “Have we met?”

The words crawled out of his mouth like an unintentional, unavoidable spill from the local community pool when someone makes an illegal cannonball splash, water splish sploshing outside its natural confines. Jasper realized his gaze had been stolen by the drink she had so expertly taken, caught impressed by it all, before refocusing his attention back on her face as she gulped all that alcohol down her throat, even more impressive. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he mumbled, raising a finger slightly in the air without even turning to the confused bartender, more confused at the strange first-timer than his order. 

“Ah, well,” when she returned the spotlight to him, Jasper scrambled for an excuse, not unlike a hungry rat who’s been panicked by the footsteps of the homeowner. “...I didn’t want to drink alone. Or anywhere close to where I live.” Was that even an excuse? It seemed too honest for him to be one. “You?”

—

Mackenzie watched him repeat her name knowing exactly what he was doing. She had done the exact same thing many times in her life, just trying to keep cast members, crew members, and the bosses and people who gave her jobs straight. It had almost been a job within itself. And then it came, the all too common question and the squint. Did she tell him who she really was or did she just play it off as coy. Coy it was, “No, I’m pretty sure I just have one of those faces.” It wasn’t that she was trying to trick him with ill-intent, she had just wanted to enjoy her night out without the possibility of a crowd forming.

She had been impressed with his request to have what she had ordered considering if it was strong enough for her to taste, he was going to have a hell of a good time, “I’m impressed. Most people don’t go that hard, but, mad respect for you, new friend.” Mackenzie smiled warmly at him; his fumbling behavior making her feel much at ease.

Drink alone. That one hit her in her soul. Since coming to Wicked’s Rest, Mackenzie had been alone, “Honestly? The same reason. Drinking alone has never really been my thing. Thought coming to a bar might be a little more…fun?” Was going to a bar to drink out of sadness actually fun? She didn’t know, but here she was. “Who wants to drink away their sorrows while watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy or Stranger Things?” Stranger Things didn’t look so strange now.

—

Jasper nodded, a little disappointed at her answer. He had already spun a story in his head of how they first met, a lot of stories, each different from the rest. Maybe they had met at a conference somewhere else, both passionate educators, both exchanged numbers, but both got too busy to contact each other ever again. Maybe she was an old student, more of a teaching assistant, both flirted for fun but nothing ever came out of it. Maybe she was a spy sent to protect him because one of his scientific papers on geology hid a secret so important to the world, countries were now fighting over his genius. 

“Maybe,” Jasper nodded pensively, shifting his gaze toward the bar’s displayed bottles. “Just one of those pretty faces…” He chuckled, tilting his glass toward him in what he believed was a show of equal respect. “Oh, I can go hard,” he turned back to her, nodding in support of his wild claim. “So very hard.” It took him a few seconds longer than he would have liked, but he realized that might have been construed as a dirty pick-up line, which consciously it wasn’t. Subconsciously, however, his mind was too cluttered to object to that perception. “I mean, with the drinks…”

“That’s fair,” Jasper took another sip of his glass, grimacing as the alcohol burned his throat, most likely karma reminding him to be less creepy, even if he never intended to be creepy. That’s just what happens when your late uncle raises you on your own, away from family or friends, in a creepy manor in the mountains. Fortunately for him, at least he was oblivious to what actually happened to his family and his own uncle’s involvement from their supposed disappearance. “Why would anyone like you end up drinking alone, though? And with…sorrows?” She was too pretty to be this sad, was the first thing that came to his mind before he realized if someone told him that, he’d try to use his magic to discreetly put some dirt in their eye.

—

That had been her go to. One of those faces. Some people it worked on, but the people who watched her religiously, it didn’t. And those were the days she disliked. Being hounded for a job she’d been thrown into as a child. Sure, she didn’t mind fans, but it had been the fans that seemed to stalk her and follow her wherever she went. There were just some people who had spent their entire lives believing lies that their mind told them, and to a certain point, it scared Mackenzie. That’s why, the one of those faces excuses never made her feel as bad as she initially did, before things had first gotten out of hand.

“Sorry to disappoint. If it makes you feel any better, I get that a lot.” Mackenzie shrugged blushing softly at his compliment, letting the facade linger. If he eventually figured it out, there was nothing she could do, but instead, she’d just enjoy the moment for what it was - another stranger in a bar looking to drink away life’s pain.

Raising her eyebrows at his comments, she watched in amusement as his face distorted from the burn of the alcohol. It definitely hadn’t been for the faint of heart. Had she still been alive, she would have been drinking something fruity and icey, but bland just didn’t do the trick for her anymore. And she wasn’t entirely sure this would either, “I know what you mean. They are pretty hard.” She couldn’t help but wink at him. He seemed sweet enough, despite some of his comments, but his nervousness had been pretty obvious, and the fact that he wasn’t being cocky had made her trust him even more.

With a fresh drink now sitting in front of her, Mack decided to take this one slower; try to enjoy it, but she couldn’t wait for the fries, even if she couldn’t taste them. Maybe the heat would allow her to feel something that the alcohol couldn’t, “Hey, I can be “pretty” and still have problems, Buddy. It’s not just for regular people like yourself.” Crap. Had that been the wrong thing to say? Oh well. It was out there now. “Besides, you didn’t exactly get hit with the ugly stick either.”

—

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Jasper scrambled to fix what he perceived was a mistake on his part. “You didn’t disappoint me...” That was true. How could she? She was gorgeous. And she was taking time and making an effort to have a conversation with him of all people. “If anything, I disappointed myself.” Also true, despite the fact that it was a habit by now, disappointing himself. He did take great pride in being able to remember his students’ faces, familiar faces, ever so far and few in between, so this was one was a loss in that regard. “I thought I remembered you, and I was wrong, that’s all!”

Jasper offered her a friendly smile that turned into an awkward chuckle, a hand scratching his head. That wink was what made him feel much better. His heart rate began to slow down again, normalize, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of anything other than the hard drink he had in his system. Was she too young, though? That was always the question running in his mind, especially after his last relationship. It wasn’t with a student, of course, but with another professor, of a different department, but the question of his professionalism was always raised by him and him alone, in his head most often, as an argument for his loneliness. If he could only spend his days at work, and he can’t date anyone at work, maybe it was for the best. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just bad at this,” he laughed again, shaking his head. Jasper didn’t take offense to being called a ‘regular person.’ He was. Not even comparing himself to her, he already knew and accepted that he was. Never thought of being anything else, anything more. Compared to her, though, this bright-eyed golden goddess? He was lucky she even considered him ‘people.’ He took another swig of his drink to calm his nerves down, give himself a rush of confidence. Or more accurately, an excuse should he fail. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from a pretty face.”

“So,” Jasper leaned forward on the counter, making himself comfortable, as clinked their glasses together, his against hers. “You having fun yet?” He hoped she’d say just yes, but if she didn’t, his mind started to think of ways to help her have fun. One of those ideas, he knew wouldn’t happen, but the possibility made him feel good. Like a freshman who had just come across the prettiest girl in class, who doesn’t have to worry about dying alone yet. “Or would you rather talk about those problems? I can listen. I literally have nothing better to do.”

—

Mackenzie hadn’t expected to be entertained on her night out to drink away her sorrows. In fact, it was usually her that was entertaining, especially when people realized who she was. She could be sitting at a table reading emails on her phone, and pictures would still be taken of her. And while sometimes it bothered her, if she wasn’t in the best place mentally, most days it didn’t. If people wanted to spend their limited time on Earth snapping photos of someone doing absolutely nothing, then that was their business. She had learned early on not to give people an exciting show, because of the repercussions it could have. Of course, being a zombie and dead and hungry for brains at certain times in her life, made that a little harder sometimes. Case and point with Brody.

“I understand disappointing yourself. And then it’s all on you to pull yourself out of a hole of despair right?” She knew this feeling all too well, and lately, it had been harder and harder to get out of, “But that’s why the fates put us together tonight. To lift up two complete strangers and let them know that life is gonna be okay.” Okay, even Mack was struggling with believing the bullshit she was spewing right now, but if it helped him, that’s what mattered right?

“And hey, I’m not the best at this either. I literally came here with the idea to drown away my sorrows in alcohol…” She glanced around, “in the most depressing looking bar in Wicked’s Rest.” She laughed softly as she set her eyes back on him, “Well, thank you for the kind words. And I’m sorry, if I might’ve said the wrong thing a while ago. My foot likes to live in my mouth sometimes.” Mackenzie bit her lip, before looking away for a minute somewhat embarrassed if she had insulted him.

Catching him sliding forward and then seeing the clink of the glasses made Mackenzie ease up some. He apparently was fine with her, and she hadn’t driven off the one person she was enjoying talking to, “I actually am having fun. I thought I would be indulging in the nastiest drink known to man while I ate fries and watched WWE alone.” She motioned to the TV on the wall that looked almost as old as she was, “Are you a fan?”

—

“All on us, yeah,” Jasper heaved a sigh, not really agreeing with that thought, but hell, if a lot of people agree with it, who was he not to? That’s always been a problem with him. Like the black sheep of the herd, he’s always had questions, only to give those questions up when the rest of the herd agree on not asking questions. Maybe he still had questions right then, right there, but the pretty girl did have a point. “It’s gonna be okay, sure.”

“You and me both,” Jasper let out a chuckle, shaking his head. He felt as if they were kindred spirits, both terrible at…whatever this was, both running to hide in terrible corners with their sorrows, and both sometimes with respective feet in their mouths. A weird thought came to him but he decided to just shake it off, away, not wanting to ruin this moment in time. “You’re welcome, and I should be the one thanking you. For keeping someone like me company. You really look like you shouldn’t be down here, with us, mortals.” He chuckled again, finishing up his drink.

“I am actually,” Jasper frowned, though a smile remained on his face. “Are you, too?” He hadn’t met that many WWE fans, especially not women, though to be fair, he hadn’t met that many women or had spoken to many women this long for them to reveal their fandoms. This was a miracle, it seemed to him. “Actually have old PPV DVDs at my place,” he continued, a voice in the back of his head laughing at the idea that if she asked what DVDs were, then she’d probably be too young for him. Also, PPVs. Don’t they call them something else these days? “Maybe we can watch them together sometimes? I have this set that’s all about Eddie Guerrero.”

—

It was nice having a kindred spirit to sit and shoot the shit with. To not feel quite so alone in a strange town. And though she knew they were both two completely different people with different interests and paths in life, Mack found solace in their need to discuss life and its current qualms, “It will be. I hope. No, it will be. No negative self-talk in a bar. That’s cause for a spiral.” She looked down at the drink again, refusing to take a sip. She wanted her fries, dammit.

There he went with the flattery again. Mackenzie blushed softly and shook her head, “Are you kidding me, man? You’re totes giving me like the hero of the movie vibes - kind heart. Not cocky. Adorable. And I am far from anything Heavenly.” I could smash your head open and eat your brain in a matter of minutes. “Don’t ask me why or how? But just know, it’s not pretty.” It really wasn’t, and most days she hated herself for it too.

Finally, my fries! As the golden delicious morsels were sat down in front of her, Mackenzie leaned towards the bartender, “Can I get some hot sauce and keep the drinks coming for me and my friend here. Just put it on my tab.” She glanced over to Jasper with a grin, before taking in as much of the smell of hot fries as she could. She was willing to share, but not until she had the first bite. If it burnt her cold, dead tongue, then so be it, “I am. I grew up on WWE. Even been to a few shows. What about you?” She had heard the term PPV, but wasn’t exactly sure what it was. It didn’t matter though, she found something that she could discuss for hours with a total stranger at an even stranger bar, “A buddy to watch wrestling with? Count me in.” Picking up her drink, she sipped it slowly, before pushing the basket towards Jasper, “Fry?” What started out to be a rough night was already starting to look up.

[bestatsavingface]

Valentine

"What are those?"

Leon's voice bounces off the bare walls of their current squatting place, a mostly-furnished row home in the heart of Philadelphia. He's shrugging off his jacket, a shiver running down him as some of the snow that's piled on his shoulders slips down his back. He squirms and shakes it all off before beelining straight to the flash of red that caught his eye when he first walked in, almost tripping as he kicks his boots off and narrowly avoids stepping in a quickly growing puddle from the snow still stuck to them.

"Do I actually have to answer that?" Chris calls out to him from the kitchen, a playful lilt in his voice Leon knows means he's teasing. A gigantic bouquet of blood-red roses is on the coffee table. They're gorgeous, just in bloom, and to Leon's surprise as he touches a soft petal, he can tell that they're real.

"Where the fuck," Leon interrupts himself with a laugh that he couldn't hold back, "Did you find living roses in the middle of an apocalypse?" He picks up the vase, pressing his face into the delicate flowers and breathing them in. It smells heavenly.

Chris comes out to greet him now, and Leon laughs again as he immediately realizes Chris has found quite the jackpot today apparently. He's in new clothes, his usual tee and cargo pants swapped out for a half-done up button down and a pair of jeans that hug Chris' thighs so nicely that Leon has to fight himself to look away from them and back up at his companion's face.

"Looking good, Redfield," Leon murmurs as he sets the roses down and pulls the other man in for a quick kiss. Chris complies happily, a warm hand settling on Leon's lower back as Chris pulls him in for another kiss right after before pulling back and grinning at him.

"I got you something too, go get changed before you get frostbite." As if on cue another shiver rolls down Leon and he takes the stairs two at a time, hurrying up to their makeshift bedroom to see what awaits him. Leon's pulled off almost all his layers by the time he stumbles into their room, flicking on the light and smiling as it blinks on without issue. The lights were what drew Chris and Leon to the row home to begin with, one of very few buildings with brightness filling them still. The gas-powered generator they found connected to it was a godsend in plenty of ways, but Leon thinks the access to light is still his favorite. The closest to normalcy they'd found in these last few months, and one of the only reasons they hadn't continued their journey yet. That plus traveling the east coast in winter sounded like a death sentence.

On their bed is a few pieces of clothing, Chris got him choices. Leon's hands immediately grab the comfiest looking item, which turns out to be a thick knit sweater, deep blue and incredibly soft. He pulls it on, glad to see it fits well, the ends of the sleeves just reaching slightly past his wrists. There are a few pairs of pants as well, and he ends up putting on a pair of gray jeans which he may or may not spend a few minutes admiring himself in right after.

"Chris!" Leon calls as he heads back downstairs, suddenly remembering the bag that he'd abandoned by his boots at the door. "I forgot to tell you, I found something good today too." He grabs his bag and shakes what little snow is still stuck to it before plopping down on the couch, opening it, and rummaging through his haul for the day.

"There's a CVS not too far from here that wasn't ransacked, the pharmacy had been locked up. I got a ton of medicine, and some Gatorade, aaand," Leon waits til Chris settles down next to him and pulls out a handful of something, brandishing it at Chris who takes a moment to recognize what it is before snatching it and whooping in delight.

"I never thought I'd see a Reese's pumpkin again," Chris mock sobs as he clutches the handful of chocolate-peanut butter pumpkins to his chest, letting out an even louder cry of delight when Leon shows him that the lower half of his bag is completely full of them. "I think I might love you, Leon. I think this was the reason I suffered through Georgia with you, to get here, to this point. It's finally worth it."

Leon rolls his eyes, making a half-hearted grab to take the pumpkins back as Chris leans away and clutches them tighter. "Don't make me crush the rest of these, Redfield, I'll sacrifice this bag in a heartbeat." Chris laughs and leans in, dropping the Reese's packs back into the bag in favor of cradling Leon's head in his hands as he leans in for a gentle kiss. Leon relaxes into it, their playfighting forgotten instantly as he kisses back and grasps at Chris' biceps in an unconscious habit.

"I got you something too," Chris tells him between a couple more kisses, Leon's lips curling into a smile as Chris finally pulls away again and moves to grab something he'd hidden under the coffee table.

"Roses, a new sweater, I'd say I got plenty already, Chris," Leon says with a happy sigh, leaning back into the couch as he admires the man in front of him.

"Shut up," Chris mutters, making Leon chuckle. He straightens up again, the present hidden behind his back as he looks at Leon with a weirdly serious look. "So, I decided to check out that big building with the glass roof we saw when we first came to town. Turns out it's some kind of fancy mall. It's where I got the clothes, and they had these roses too, they're preserved or something so they stay like that for ages apparently."

"Anyways, an electronic display at one of the stores seemed to run on some kind of everlasting battery because it was showing the right time so I think it had the right date for today too. I know we'd lost track somewhere around Maryland. It's February 14th."

"February, damn we were way off then." Last Leon guessed he'd thought they'd only just reached January. That meant winter would be over sooner than they expected, at least. Chris gives him an expectant look, which makes Leon furrow his brows as he tries to figure out what he'd missed in what Chris said. It doesn't hit him until Chris sighs and pushes a box into his hands, lips quirked into an exasperated smile as Leon blurts out, "Valentine's Day!"

"Quick as ever, bud," Chris teases, the affection that floods his voice downplaying any pretend animosity he tries to give. "Sorry, it's not heart-shaped." It's then Leon realizes he's been handed a large box of chocolates, the elegant script scrawled across it some French name he doesn't want to even attempt to pronounce. "So, what's your answer?"

"What's the question?" Leon looks at Chris curiously, trying not to smile as he watches Chris' face redden with embarrassment.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: @dirtwatchman and @magmahearts TIME: Early goo, sometime after this thread. WHERE: Worm Row SUMMARY:  Caleb is trying to rescue a cat during the goo disaster and Cass comes along just as he's starting to become trapped. Seeing that she's not in great shape he decides to tag along with her much to Cass' disappointment. They end up coming upon something neither of them expected. WARNINGS: None that I can remember, just sad thoughts.

The volunteer opportunities during this goo disaster were plentiful and Caleb had been making sure to do everything he could for the people of his hometown but nothing felt like enough. Working the shelters was a great help until he was standing around waiting to be told what to do. Going out and getting more supplies was fantastic until those supply pickups ran dry. He just felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Maybe it was dumb to go out on a rescue mission to Worm Row, but it was the right thing to do, right? He couldn’t just sit around while others suffered. People could live without him but there were too many out there that others couldn’t lose.

What was truly dumb though was straying from the rescue group. All it took was one frenzied cry of a cat for him to walk away from everyone doing a job. He’d promised to keep an eye out for a missing one after all. It wasn’t the one he was looking for but there was a calico stuck in one of the allies behind a tattoo parlor, goo blocking both ways out and slowly overtaking the objects down the path as it spread. 

Caleb quickly jumped over the growing puddle and scooped the cat up into his arms, the animal only thrashing for a moment before it realized it was safer in the undead’s arms than on the ground as goo continued to come towards them. “Uh...well…” His eyes scanned the ground realizing it would have been easier to jump back without a terrified cat in his arms. As he tried to think of how to get back to the main street, someone walked by the entrance of the alley and he called out quickly to try and get their attention. “Hey! You think you could help me out real quick? Just need someone to hold the cat.”

Everything ached. Her shoulder where Rhett had stabbed her, her head where his knife had tried and failed to end her life, her arm where he’d twisted it to the point of breaking. Her pride, too, though that was a harder thing to admit. Cass knew she should be just… grateful to be alive, glad to still be breathing, but it was hard. She was angry about what had happened. She was afraid that it might happen again. She was desperate to be useful, somehow. And she was trying, as hard as she could, to hide all of this from Alex, who was already going through enough because of her.

Going to Worm Row to help with evacuation had felt like something she could do. She wasn’t much of a superhero as she was — maybe she’d never been much of a superhero at all — but she could still do something. She remembered her conversation with the woman online about the warehouses, about how the people who were sleeping inside them the way Cass used to before she’d found her cave would be forgotten in the evacuations. She didn’t want that to happen, couldn’t stand the thought of it.

So she’d broken away from the group she was with, circling around abandoned buildings and peering through windows. No one yet, but she thought she’d find someone eventually. She knew which buildings people tended to flock towards, after all. She was passing by the mouth of an alley when a voice called out, causing her to falter. She turned towards it, surprised to see a man holding a cat and surrounded by goo. “Oh, shit,” she said, quickly walking into the alley, careful to avoid the goo. “I’ve got you, yeah! Uh… Hand me the cat.”

Even with his long limbs Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to just hand her the creature. It was starting to wiggle in his arms again, still scared of the substance taking over the street and now realizing that something wasn’t quite right with him either. He tried to reach her outstretched hands with the animal as it flailed around but he kept having to move further back to stay away from the good still moving toward him. “As much as I don’t want to do this, I might have to gently toss it to you. Think you can handle it?” She wasn’t looking too great herself and he wondered if she should even be out here much less trying to help him rescue a cat.

But he didn’t have a choice, did he? At least she was on the other side of this, easily able to escape the spreading goo if she needed to. “Alright, on three.” Caleb eyed her wearily, hoping the cat wouldn’t freak out and start clawing at the girl. “One…two…three!” He tossed the cat gently after getting it as close to her as he could, hoping it would get to her safely and he could figure out how to get himself on the other side. 

With the goo getting closer, his eyes went to the ground before he had a chance to see the outcome, feet stepping back once again. It was moving slowly but he didn’t have much more time to waste or else he’d be completely stuck. So he moved back a little more and got a running head start before jumping himself, landing not so gracefully on the other side of it all. Caleb’s shoulder was just inches from another pile of this stuff and he scrambled to his feet before his lack of coordination got him in even more trouble. 

She hesitated at the question. Could she catch the cat if it was tossed to her? Her shoulder hurt just sitting there, and catching anything with any weight to it would likely pull at the injury uncomfortably. But something that moved and squirmed? That would be even harder. She studied the situation for a moment, attempting to find another solution before accepting, begrudgingly, that there really wasn’t one. She could either catch the cat, or… Or nothing. The only other option was to leave the little guy behind, and that wasn’t much of an option at all. So, with determination coloring her features, she nodded. “I can catch it,” she said with more confidence than she felt. She had to.

She steadied herself as he prepared to throw the cat, digging her heels in and holding her arms out. Her jaw was tightly clenched in anticipation for the inevitable pain that would come with the exercise, but she was ready. When he landed on three, she took a step forward with her arms out. The cat landed in them, and Cass bit back a cry of pain. Her whole shoulder felt like it was burning, like she’d been stabbed all over again. Her vision whited out momentarily, but she recovered quickly, holding the squirming cat close to her chest. She must have bitten her tongue in silencing her cry, because there was blood in her mouth. She swallowed it carefully, waiting for the man to join her.

He ran and jumped, and Cass transferred her hold on the cat so that she was using only one arm to hold it, freeing the other to reach out and steady the stranger to prevent him from rolling into the goo. When he was upright and goo free, she let out a shaky sigh and offered him the cat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m uh, I’m good.” Caleb nodded while checking himself to make sure nothing had gotten on him. It would be just his luck that the goo would have splashed onto his arm or something and he’d become a statue. But it wasn’t just him he was worried about either, the zombie looking over his helper as he took the cat back. He’d noticed her wince when she caught the animal, and now he could see a small amount of blood on her lips as his eyes passed over them. “Are you okay? Why are you bleeding?” Should she even be out in this mess? He’d noticed already that she wasn’t looking the best and now his brow was creased with worry seeing her up close.

Even as the cat struggled to get out of his arms. The animal's claws ran over his bare wrist and Caleb had to drop it before the thing could do more damage. A small grunt left his lips but the cat was halfway down the street before he looked back up. At least it was walking away from the goo. “That’s what I get for helping a stray, I guess. Just hope it doesn’t get into any more trouble.” 

His attention went back to her, the concern growing the more he took her in. “Do you need…like, a chair or something? Maybe you should sit down?” The last thing either of them needed was for her to pass out in this. He wouldn’t just leave her of course but Caleb would rather it not come to that point if they could help it. 

She hated how easily he recognized the pain in her expression. Sometimes, Cass wished that the unreadable expressions that came with being made of stone transferred to her glamour, too, that she could be stoic even with the illusion of humanity stretched across her rocky skin. She didn’t want to be the kind of person that other people had to worry about; she wasn’t supposed to be. She was a superhero. She used to think she was a good one. She wasn’t so sure of that anymore. “I just bit my tongue,” she said with a dismissive wave, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. “The little guy was heavier than I thought he’d be. It caught me off guard.”

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the animal; she watched as it clawed its way out of the stranger’s arms, dropping to the ground and taking off. She watched it go, hopeful that it would stay away from the goo. Would the goo have the same effect on cats as it did on people? It was hard to say. “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” she said softly. The cat disappeared behind a nearby building, and she turned back to the man.

She was tired. There was no denying it. Every inch of her ached, exhaustion from even this smallest of physical activities seeping into her very bones. She hated it, hated how weak she felt. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This shouldn’t be affecting her still, shouldn’t be such a persistent ache. Not physically, and not mentally, either. It was so stupid. Didn’t her mind know that she was fine? “No,” she said quickly, trying to straighten her back and look more steady. “No, I’m all good.”

There was something about the way she took her time to answer him, as if she were trying to decide whether she should placate him or tell the truth. Caleb could recognize the thought process anywhere seeing as he did it himself way too often. It was that drive to take care of everyone else before taking care of themselves, that need to be helpful, to know that their presence meant something rather than wonder if anything good came of it or not. It was obvious that something wasn’t right but he wasn’t going to push her to talk about it if she didn’t want to. He’d want the same if the situation was reversed. “Okay, only if you’re sure.” Which he knew she would say as such. It’s what he would do. 

But he also didn’t feel right just walking away when clearly something was off with her. She looked too young to be out there on her own anyway, at least while a disaster was going on. “Uh, I lost my volunteer group so it seems I need something to do. Do you know where any volunteers are needed? Maybe we can head there together?” Caleb didn’t care if he was being too obvious, he wasn’t leaving her alone to pass out in this mess.

“I’m sure,” she replied, flashing her biggest grin. Her stomach churned, ached. It was a lie, and it wasn’t. She hadn’t specified what she was sure about. She was sure — sure that she didn’t want to talk about it, sure that she didn’t want to feel the way she felt, sure that she wished she could go back to how she’d been before. She was sure about a lot of things; that was part of the problem.

She hesitated, wondering why he was still here. Did she seem so helpless? The thought unnerved her. Before, it hadn’t bothered her much when people wanted to help her. If anything, it made her feel good — like a person worth helping, like someone people wanted to be okay. But it felt like poison now, like a slap to the face. She was strong, she was. She could do things on her own. When he spoke, asked about a volunteer group, it felt like she was being placated. But… not being alone was still a thing she wanted. So she told herself she was doing it for his sake. So he wouldn’t get stuck again, she she wouldn’t walk by a statue of him later. “I’ve been going around checking empty buildings for people,” she said. “You can help me with that if you want, I guess.” 

Why was he still there? If she was so insistent on telling him that she was okay, if he could tell that she didn’t want any special treatment, Caleb should just walk away, right? He figured that she reminded him of Aria in some way and he didn’t enjoy the idea of leaving anyone in this mess, much less someone who made him think of a person he cared a lot about. If anyone had come across the girl he thought of as family in this predicament and left her then he would have so many unkind words to throw their way. 

Nodding at her suggestion, he looked down Worm Row and back the other way, knowing that it was a good idea regardless of it only coming about so he didn’t leave her alone. Surely there were others that were trapped, not just that poor cat. Pulling his sleeve down further so that she couldn’t see that his arm had healed from the scratches already, Caleb pointed down one side of the street. “Are you going that way? I’d love to join, otherwise I’d be lost.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. He knew that he was a follower, never took charge, couldn’t make a decision unless he absolutely had to so he'd most likely be standing in the middle of the street doing nothing if she left without him. In some ways she was the one helping him.

“How many people have you seen so far? I’ve only seen the cat myself…more statues than anything.” Which was a sad thing to realize. Those poor people were trapped if they were still alive. He’d hoped that he’d see more rescues than Caleb had. “I’m hoping that most of the people needing rescues are just gone now instead of trapped. It’s been a while so it’s possible, right?”

Was she relieved that he wanted to help her, or disappointed? Even Cass didn’t know for sure. She hated being alone, but she hated the way he was looking at her, too. Concern was a funny thing. She always yearned for it right up until the moment she got it, always wanted it only until she had it. Because now, in moments like this one, she felt so weak. Nothing like the hero she so wanted to be, nothing like what she was supposed to be. She was weak and she was stupid and she hated it, but she didn’t know if she hated it more than she hated being alone. She didn’t know if she hated anything more than that. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a nod, looking off in the direction he’d indicated. She told herself that she was helping him by letting him tag along, let herself pretend that she was keeping him out of the goo. “I haven’t seen a lot of people, either, but… There are some abandoned buildings down that way. People with nowhere else to go will sleep there sometimes when the weather is bad.” She didn’t mention how she knew that, didn’t add that she’d slept there herself on a pretty regular basis before Kuma found her way back when she’d first come to Wicked’s Rest. He didn’t need to know that; he just needed to know what she planned on doing now.

Her eyes darted to a nearby statue, a hint of grief shooting through her chest. She hoped the people beneath the stone were okay, even if it seemed impossible. “I’m sure most of the people who were in houses are,” she replied. “But… some people fall through the cracks in situations like this. Some people don’t have anyone looking out for them.”

“That makes a lot of sense actually.” He should have thought about that. He’d spent a lot of nights in random cemeteries and different places when he was younger and had come across a few of those people asking if he needed a place to stay. Caleb had always appreciated the offer. Ones with no place to go were always the kindest. He briefly wondered why her mind had gone there but didn’t want to bring it up in case it brought up something painful. It was likely that she just had a kind heart herself and was able to think about these things. 

After a pause, her next words caught his ear and it was harder to pretend that her knowledge of the displaced was nothing more than her ability to think about the less fortunate. It sounded so much more personal. “We can definitely check those places out and get them to the shelter’s buses if we need to….thanks for thinking of them.” Because he sure hadn’t and now he felt guilt building up in his gut. Following her eye line to the statue nearest them, he wondered how many of these people didn’t have any place to go when they got caught up with the goo. She was right, most rescues would only think about the people who already had places they could hide away in first.

Caleb started to walk towards the buildings she had indicated, careful to keep an eye on the goo spots but also letting his gaze go back to her every now and then. He wasn’t being subtle with the worry that was coursing through him but at this point he didn’t care. Her pride could take a hit but if she collapsed in this he wasn’t sure she could come back from the goo. “Do you…know someone who might be down here?”

There were a lot of people who tended to be ‘forgotten’ by the general public. Even now, Cass often felt like she was one of them. She had places she could go, places where she’d be welcome to stay for as long as she needed — Alex’s cabin, Metzli’s house, Ariadne’s apartment — but there was a stark difference between your friends being there for you and strangers caring whether or not you were okay. Even caring wasn’t quite what she’d needed in her worst moments — she’d only wanted acknowledgement back then. For someone to see her, to recognize that she needed help. People had a bad habit of looking away when something was ugly, and there were few things uglier than this.

But there were good people out there, too. There were guys who’d brave the goo just to save a cat from succumbing to it, who wouldn’t hesitate to join her on her quest to save the people the rest of the world forgot about. “Yeah,” Cass replied, and she took the thanks even if she hated herself for it a little. She might need it if he asked too many questions, she told herself. Odds were, he’d have plenty of questions she didn’t want to answer if he found out about her cave. It was easier to have an easy out.

She trailed behind him as she walked, watching the goo just as carefully as he was. It was clear that he was concerned. It made her feel warm, like a fire flickering within her chest. It was rare for people to worry about Cass, but it had become more common since moving to Wicked’s Rest. She liked it. At his question, she shrugged a shoulder. “There are a lot of people in Worm Row who don’t have a lot of places to go. We just need to find them.” She rounded the corner, nodding to a warehouse. “There. People sleep in there a lot.” It didn’t look too surrounded by the goo.

As soon as she pointed out the right building he was eyeing her again. How did she know that? There was something deep down telling him that this knowledge came from personal experience more than from her being a volunteer somewhere but he also knew it wasn’t right to assume things. If she wanted him to know what this was about she would have said by now. It wasn’t like Caleb blamed her at all, he wouldn’t want to tell a complete stranger about his past either, but if this was her present truth it didn’t…sit right with him. If she needed a place to go he knew of plenty of people who would be happy to take her in. Hell, he would have himself if he wasn’t worried about her finding his…supply. 

How awful would that look? He takes in a displaced young woman only for her to find freezers full of brains in his basement. It would scare her to death and he would definitely end up in jail this time around.

So he let it go. As much as he didn’t want to, he let go of the nagging feeling telling him to press this issue further. Instead he nodded at her and made his way towards the building to check it out and boy was he glad she had pointed this place out. 

There were almost a dozen people lingering inside not knowing where to go or what they could do with the goo outside. As soon as he saw them all two things happened; one, he had confirmation that she knew more than she was saying about the displaced in Wicked’s Rest, and two, he knew he had to get one of the volunteer buses closer to this location to get them all to safety without a goo incident. “I think I need to go find a bus and bring it here instead of trying to get them all to another location. Are you okay to stay here with them?”

He didn’t ask any questions, and Cass was grateful for it. Still, she held on to that thank you. She shouldn’t have, she knew. It was a bad thing, a selfish one. So many people had been hurt by her tendency to make binds she had no business making. From Kuma’s death to Metzli’s anger, there was a string of consequences that existed between binds and the people they tied themselves around and still, even knowing that, Cass had trouble letting them go. So she kept this one, tucked away safe and waiting for a day when she might need to use it, even if she tried to convince herself that that day would never come.

Inside the warehouse, it was easy to focus on other things. There were people who needed help, people who were afraid and lost and alone. Some of them, she recognized. She thought they recognized her, too, around their fear, but most knew better than to say so. Cass carefully ushered them all to one side of the warehouse, as far away from the goo as they could get. 

She saw the same problem Caleb did. Leading a group of people this size to safety without losing any of them would be a difficult task, and they couldn’t risk losing anyone. She shot him a worried glance, but he already had a solution in mind. A little relieved, she nodded. “Go,” she agreed. “I can keep them safe until you get back.”

As soon as she gave confirmation, he was off. There was no hesitating here. That stuff was spreading fast and if it found its way to the building they would all be trapped until they could get the goo off. Finding the bus they needed hadn’t been the hard part. The hard part came with navigating it through the street so that the goo didn’t take it over. Luckily, the thing was empty save for Caleb and the driver since she had just come from dropping off a load of others in Deersprings and they only had themselves to worry about. He watched as she carefully drove through the streets, taking as many detours as she could find once they realized one was too blocked off by the black sludge, and eventually they pulled up to where they needed to be thanks to the expertise of the woman. 

The building was still safe but it wouldn’t be for long. There was goo coming their way, they would have to work quickly to get them all out.

Rushing in, he found the girl that had helped him with the cat, realizing too late that he didn’t even know her name, but they were a little busy. “So, good news is I have a bus sitting outside, bad news is we need to hurry because this building isn’t going to be safe for much longer.” Caleb clapped his hands together to get all of their attention, something he usually hated but didn’t have enough time to care. “Everybody! There’s a bus outside that can take you safety but we need to hurry or we’re going to get trapped in here.”

They weren’t moving. All they did was stare at Caleb like he was trying to trick them, suspicion in some of their eyes. Confusion took over before he realized that to them he was an outsider. Why would they trust him? Looking down at the other girl, he raised an eyebrow. “Think they might listen to you more than me?”

There were questions, while they waited. Cass did her best to answer them as they came, but it was difficult. No, she didn’t know what was going on. Yes, it was a dangerous situation. No, they couldn’t stay here. Yes, she understood that it was just as dangerous to be out in the city with no roof over your head at night in Wicked’s Rest. Some of the people knew her, trusted her. To others, she was a stranger. And it was hard, trying to convince any of them that she knew what she was talking about. She was a kid, in their eyes. A kid who, up until a few months ago, had been in the same boat they were in now. And these people were distrustful by default, unwilling to accept help when they didn’t know what would be asked of them in return. Cass understood it, but it certainly made things more complicated.

It was a relief, still, when the man returned with the bus. Cass felt her shoulders slump at the sight of him, felt the feeling rush in not unlike the goo they were trying to avoid now. “That’s good,” she breathed, nodding her head. “Seriously, that’s — I’m glad you found it. I don’t know what we would have done without it.” The people in this building wouldn’t have left, and Cass wouldn’t have abandoned them. It would have been a tragedy unreported by news outlets that didn’t tend to care about tragedies when the victims’ faces looked like the ones in this building.

But even with an easy route out, the distrust remained. The people looked to the man with dubious expressions, muttering to one another, and Cass’s heart sank in her chest. She looked to the man, then back to the crowd. She knew, of course. She knew what would be more effective, even if it meant admitting to things she’d rather keep private. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.

“Look, I know how you feel. They evacuated the neighborhood, and they forgot about you. And — And there’s something really scary going on, and you don’t understand it, and you’re afraid. You have nowhere else to go, and I get that. I’ve been where you are. But if you stay here, you’re going to get hurt. You might get worse than hurt. I know it’s scary, I know. But if you let us get you somewhere safe, I won’t forget about you. I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Food, water, blankets. I’ll make sure you have a place to stay, somewhere safe. You just have to get on the bus.”

If Caleb weren’t living in Wicked’s Rest, if he hadn’t known about the things that could exist these days, this moment would have seemed so surreal to him. Having to get a bus to lead a bunch of people away from goo that was taking over anything it touched, not being able to convince a dozen people to get on said bus despite that major detail, and then a girl who looked like she could have been a child giving an inspiring little speech to spur them all forward could have been a scene straight from The Twilight Zone. Anyone else would have had a hard time thinking they were living their real life and not home snug in their bed while they ran through the dream in their head. 

But it was real. This was their daily truth. And sometimes…rarely, he felt a sense of pride just to be witness to it all. 

His look of worry started to morph into one of awe as each word left her lips. She couldn’t have lived much life yet and still she was able to be so open and personal in front of a bunch of strangers just to make sure they made it to safety. He could have chimed in, tried to relate like her, but it wasn’t needed. They were looking at each other for a beat before they decided to follow the girl’s instructions to get on the bus. 

Caleb again felt that pride start to swell. Trust was so hard. He knew that little fact very well but every single one of them decided to swallow that fear in their gut and trust in the only option they had left. The zombie just kept nodding at people as they passed him, trying to give a reassuring smile to let them know that he too would be there if they needed him, but none of it would have been possible without her bravery. When the last person climbed the steps his smile turned on her, genuine words slipping past.

“See? I’m the one who needed you after all.”

[lynfraser09]

Partners, then.

Characters/pairings: Stede Bonnet / Ed Teach

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

Rating: T

Word count: 2151

Summary: An Alternate Scene of the dock scene in 1x09.

His feet were moving, carrying him toward the sound instantly. He relied on his instincts, the feeling deep within that told him that Stede was in danger and needed to get to him. 

Notes: I'm sure this has been done plenty of times but I just watched the show for the first time and got all the feels and wanted to write a little fix it for them. Likes and Comments always appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Read on A03

Ed broke through the brush, his heart racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He always enjoyed the thrill of a good escape, and the thought of having Stede waiting for him, being with him, only heightened the thrill. 

As he bounded toward the dinghy waiting for him, it took him a few seconds to realize that he was alone. 

"Stede?” his head whipped around, searching from where he just came, wondering if Stede was taking cover in the dark leaves. 

His eyes trailed the sand beside the dock and his heart sank as he realized how quiet it was.

"Stede?” he called out again, hoping the man was nearby but the only sound that reached his ears was the lapping of waves against the dock. 

He felt an uncomfortable twisting in the pit of his stomach, a thickness in his throat, his eyes still darting frantically in the darkness, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. 

Soon enough he came to the horrid realization.

Stede wasn't there. 

He had given Stede the head start and anticipated meeting him there, hopping into the boat and rowing away, hopefully getting miles out to sea before the British knew they were gone. 

But as the seconds ticked by, there was still no sign of Stede.

It had been hours but he could still feel the tingle of warmth on his lips from when he had kissed Stede. From when Stede had kissed him back, looked at him with awestruck admiration, told him he made him just as happy as he made Ed, and then agreed to run away together. 

His head whipped around, his heart leaping into his throat as the unmistakable sound of gunfire split the quiet night sky, followed then by a more faint scream.

Stede.

He had been around the man long enough to know his noises - to recognize his voice whether he was talking, humming, groaning or screaming. 

His feet were moving, carrying him toward the sound instantly. He relied on his instincts, the feeling deep within that told him that Stede was in danger and needed to get to him. 

From the moment he first laid eyes on Stede Bonnet, pale faced and bleeding at his feet, he knew he would do anything to protect him.

Wild branches scratched his skin as he pushed through the brush but was consumed by nothing but the pounding of his heart. 

He felt he was running for far too long before he finally came to a small break in the brush and came to a sudden halt at the sight before him.

There was a man face down on the ground and for a brief, heart stopping moment he thought it was Stede until he saw the back of the man's head was most certainly not the blonde mop of hair he came to adore so much.

His eyes trailed from the motionless body on the ground to where he finally found Stede, backed up against a tree, his hand covering his anguished face. 

Ed pushed aside his brief relief at the sight of him alive, and his brow furrowed as he glanced down at the body.

"Stede?"

The gun had been discarded next to the body and Ed slowly walked around it, moving towards Stede. 

Ed's eyes widened slightly as the man's identity became clear to him. 

He couldn't help but feel a little relieved that the man was dead and wouldn't be able to come after them, but glancing back at Stede the unsettling feeling came back to him. 

The look in Stedes eyes was heart wrenching. He had seen Stede frightened before, the Gentleman Pirate was often startled by violence and bloodshed, but he had never seen anything like that look. 

“What happened?' Ed asked finally as Stede’s continued silence. It seemed far too unlike Stede to kill a man, even if he was in danger. 

"He tripped." Stede said, his voice strained and distant and Ed stifled a small laugh. 

Yes, that was much more likely to happen with Stede.

"He was going to kill me." Stede continued and the trace of a smile fell immediately from Ed's face. Stede's face pulled into a heart breaking grimace, his eyes crinkling in evident pain, his lips quivering.

"Perhaps he was right to do so." His voice was so low, breaking barely above a whisper.

Ed's heart plummeted and he surged forward, reaching out and grabbing a hold of Stede’s arm. Stede briefly startled, his eyes widening, his body tensing.

"What are you saying, man?"

Stede avoided his gaze, slowly shaking his head. "I have ruined everything." 

Even in the darkness, he could see the tears start to fill Stede’s eyes and Ed's grip tightened on his bicep.

Stede took a shaky breath and bowed his head, closing his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"For what, mate? You got nothing to be sorry for."

Stede scoffed and his eyes lifted to meet him. "I ruined you."

Ed furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? You didn't…"

"The most fearsome pirate to ever live." Stede cut him off and it hurt to hear the bitter, remorseful tone in his voice. "And look where you are now."

Ed frowned and opened his mouth to reply but Stede kept talking, growing more and more frantic with each word. 

"You're here, a prisoner of the crown, without a ship, without a crew, without your beard. You're Blackbeard! A-and you've given it all up for me and I don't deserve it, you don't deserve that…"

Ed silenced him by grabbing his face on his hands and forcing Stede to look at him. Their eyes met and Stede’s breath caught, his eyes wide, his lips parted and damn if Ed didn't want to kiss that look off his face. 

"You haven't ruined me." He said definitively. 

Stede made a small noise of protest in the back of his throat.

"No, Stede, listen.” Ed continued.” You haven't ruined anything… not for me. You made my life better than it has been in years. Did you not hear a word I said earlier? Because I meant every fucking word. I don't want to be Blackbeard anymore. I am not Blackbeard anymore. I don't care about any of that. I did what I did because I wanted to, and I'd do it again and again, for you because you are what I want."

His hands slid down Stede’s neck, then bunched the collar in his hands and Stede swallowed hard. 

"You make me happy and I want nothing more than to leave this fucking place and find something new…with you. I thought that's what you wanted too."

A flurry of emotions crossed Stede's eyes. Guilt, despair, adoration, fleeting hope, and then anguish.

"I do…god, I do want it, Ed but I can't…" His jaw tightened and he averted his gaze, shifting uncomfortably in Ed's hold. 

Ed frowned and loosened his grip on his shirt but he said nothing as he waited for Stede to finish his thought. 

Stede closed his eyes for a few long seconds, inhaled deeply and released it sharply.

"I must return home."

Ed’s eyes narrowed slightly. "To the Revenge?"

Stede’s jaw tightened, his head twitching. 

"To Mary."

"Oh.” Ed whispered. “Oh I see."

"No-no…no…" Stede’s hands came up, stopping Ed with his hands on his as he started to pull away.  "I don't think you do." His eyes were guilt- ridden but desperate and pleading. 

"Badminton spoke of you, of what I had done to you, but also what I had done to Mary and the truth is…” He let out a heavy but resolved breath, “he was right."

"Stede…"

"If not about you, then definitely about Mary. I was a coward in the way I left her and the children. They deserve better than that. Mary believes me to be dead, or perhaps worse, she is the one who reported me to be dead. Either way, I need to go to her…to clear the air."

"To clear the air." Ed repeated slowly, studying Stede’s face.

Stede nodded once. "To make things right. So I…" he let out a shaky sigh and looked down. "I can't go with you.." 

Stede’s shoulders shrunk and he began to pull away, his hands slowly sliding off of Ed’s.

Ed grabbed his hands, stilling him. "Then I will go with you." He answered easily. 

Stede's eyes snapped up, wide with surprise. "What?"

Ed's eyes stayed focused intently on his and he stepped in closer, closing what little distance was between them, so their chests were nearly touching and they could feel each other's warmth.

"I'll come with you. If you want me to…" he added on with a small shrug. "You go and fix what you need to with Mary but then…" he raised an eyebrow with a small, cautious smile, his heart reaching out, pleading with the man. "We figure out what comes next, after. And I'll be with you the whole way through."

"You'd do that?” Stede’s voice squeaked and Ed felt his heart melting if it could. “For me?"

His lips twitched up even more and his hands slid up his neck again, now cradling the back of his head. "I'd follow you anywhere, Stede Bonnet."

Stede’s breath hitched and his eyes flickered down where his hands now rested on Ed's chest and he could feel Ed's strong and fast heart beat.

"It may be a bit of a disaster…" Stede tried to protest, albeit weakly, his resolve weakening as he melted into him. 

"Mate, my whole fucking life is a disaster, wouldn't be anything new."

Stede scoffed a small laugh and met his eyes again. Ed brushed a thumb against his jaw line and Stede released a breath. 

"Only thing is now I've got you.” Ed said, his voice softening. “Think we've got each other now. Co-captains, yeah?"

"Captains without a ship?" Stede asked, his voice low but also faintly hopeful. 

Ed pressed his lips together, thinking for a second and then coming back with, "Partners then."

His heart pounded, his stomach flipping as he said the words and waited with baited breath for Stede’s response. He'd never had a partner, never had someone he wanted to share every day with. 

All until Stede fucking bonnet. 

Stedes eyes searched his, looking for any sign of deceit, or uncertainty but Ed had never been so certain of something in his entire life. 

Stede was uncertain, that much was clear, but just as Stede had once reassured him that he was not a terrible person, and he was worthy of friendship, and more, Ed would spend the rest of his days proving that to Stede if that's what it took. 

The light that he adored so much, that had been missing in this conversation, slowly started to return to Stedes eyes.

"Ed…you don't have to.." Stede was giving him one last out but he wasn't going to take it. He closed his eyes and leaned forward pressing his forehead to Stede’s and Stede’s body lifted in the force of his gasp, pushing further into him.

Ed's hands curled into his hair and held him tightly and gently all at once. "I want to." His nose bumped against Stedes and a shiver rolled down his spine as he felt Stede’s warm breath against his lips. 

"Don't push me away." Ed whispered, a quiet plea, and his lips brushed lightly against Stede’s. 

A small whine escaped Stedes throat, his lips quivering, a feather light brush against his own.

He could practically feel Stede’s smile, felt him relax a little against him and Stede’s hands slid up his chest, his fingers grazing the bare skin of his neck. 

"Partners then." Stede echoed, his voice quiet but assured.

Ed pulled back slightly to look down at Stede and a flood of warmth pooled in his belly at the look in his eyes. Warm, familiar, still unsure yes, but so full of love.

He surged forward, unable to resist any longer, and his mouth fully met Stede’s. This kiss was more intense than the first, but still gentle. Stede was not so hesitant as before, not so surprised, and his hands gripped onto Ed’s shoulders pulling them even closer.

"We gotta get out of here." Ed said quickly, a little out of breath, his heart racing as he reluctantly began to pull away. 

Stede's face slackened as he came to reality and he looked around. "Right.” He breathed. “Be a shame to get caught after all that."

Ed smirked and raised one brow as his hands dropped from his head but immediately went for Stede’s. 

Stede looked at him, his fingers entwined with his and he took a resolved breath and nodded once. 

Then without another glance behind them, or the body still in the ground, they surged forward, together, hand in hand.

Partners then. 

[morimementa]

I’ve been rereading the sample. Can I have more of the Detective Void? Please?

I can post the first part right now! Message me when you want more and I'll post the next part! Word of warning, the story's not done yet. I'm working on it, but it might take a while.

TW: Mpreg, pregnancy, mild body horror (Body squick?).

 You couldn’t pinpoint when exactly you stopped being a person. It was probably around the time you realized the dolls you made could come to life and you could turn anything to yarn just by stabbing it with a knitting needle. Frightened and excited at the impossible things happening, you’d hidden away any proof of it, and tried to work out the secrets of your gift yourself. You didn’t realize they’d put a target on your back and a timer above your head. It was only a matter of time before the Laboratory caught up with you.

You’d been captured by them eight years ago, given an experiment designation instead of your name and kept in captivity. It wasn’t till a fateful security breach that you’d managed to escape. After fighting your way out of their clutches, you’d gotten back to civilization and worked to rebuild your life. As much as you wanted to go back to being just another somebody, it wasn’t in the cards. You couldn’t rest knowing how much was out there, and how little was being done about it. So, you’d decided to use your powers to forge a new path for yourself.

And oh, how you charged down that path. You worked to contain anomalies and to ensure no one else suffered as you had. You willingly walked the razor’s edge, knowing that the next encounter could mean death. Or worse. You’d come to learn that there were far more terrifying fates than oblivion. All you could do was handle every day as it came, keep striving forward, and not look too closely at shadows.

Your job ended up taking you on a curious investigation. The cities of *Data Expunged* had been inundated by giant Stork sightings. That by itself would be unusual, but there was more to it than that. Little did any of the witnesses know that the creature was far more troublesome than an ordinary bird. The eight-foot-tall Stork visited men, seemingly at random and attacked them, leaving a puncture wound on their stomachs. Worse than the physical injury was what came after. The victim would then incubate and birth a baby Stork, all within the span of an hour or two.

So far, the creature’s victims had a 100% survival rate; rare enough in this brutal world, and safe enough to keep it a low priority of whatever shadowy government organization took care of such matters. You on the other hand, had plenty of time to send it back to whatever godforsaken part of the universe it came from.

You’d begun by helping the latest victim. An ordinary salary man, he’d been assaulted on his walk to work. You’d helped him through the uncomfortable pregnancy and agonizing birth and then shoved the chick in a cage to be collected by The Foundation. The man had asked only one thing of you once you’d helped him deliver the monstrous offspring.

“Make me forget.”

You’d been all too glad to administer some of your amnestic. It wasn’t much, but at least you could alleviate any lingering trauma. After that, you’d resolved to stop the creature before it struck again. What you hadn’t realized was that you weren’t the only one who’d made that resolution.

Among your many skills was your ability to produce useful anomalous objects. Your handsewn teddy bear for instance, acted as a bloodhound for sensing anomalous beings. You let it guide you through a row of unsold houses, into a backyard. There it pointed at the abandoned shed sitting in the right hand corner of the yard. Much to your surprise, it had indicated there was a second anomaly inside as well. You patted it on the head to thank it, then let it slip back into the oversized bag you carried.

You pulled the pair of your longest size ten needles out. Two anomalies in one place could mean they were coming to blows or that they were in cahoots. Whatever the case, you were prepared for a fight. You snuck up to the shed, careful not to alert them with a creak of the wooden ramp. You could already hear rustling and thumping emanating from the cracked door. No voices, at least, no human ones. You crouched by the door and took a peek inside. You were shocked by what you saw.  

In the center of the room was the stork. Now that you saw it up close, it was nothing short of unnerving. At eight feet tall, it towered over you. As it turned, you saw its long pointed beak. Its pink and blue gradient wings might have been pretty under different circumstances. Right now, those wings fluttered indignantly, puffing up in a warning. Looking closer, you saw what it was angry about.

The stork was trapped where it stood; it was encircled by a ring of runes painted on the floor. You squinted against the unnatural light they produced. The creature thrashed and struck at the barrier they’d made, hissing like an angry Goose. Indifferent to its anger, its captor stood off to the side. He was a man in a button up shirt and black trousers. The only unusual part of his appearance was the dark gray mask with eye holes that glowed with the same energy as the runes.

As soon as you saw the mask, it clicked.  It was none other than Detective Void. You’d heard through the grapevine that he was an investigator of the supernatural. Neither Foundation personnel nor Chaos Insurgent, he conducted his own work in secret, able to elude any interested parties. As relieved as you were to not find SCP agents, you couldn’t help but wonder if he intended to terminate the entity or use it for his own purposes.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a creaking noise. The Stork had begun pounding at the floor. It was slamming its feet onto the wood with surprising strength. Through the dust it’d kicked up, you realized the light of the runes had started flickering. Your heart sunk into your shoes as you realized what was going on. The shed’s floor was old and unstable. If it managed to put even a crack in one of the painted boards, it could break the circle and escape!

The detective seemed to have noticed too. He pulled a curved dagger out from behind his back and assumed a fighting stance. The bird seemed all too eager for a fight. It ran its long talons down the floor, a glint in its eyes. You had no choice but to throw your own hat in the ring. As the floorboard gave with a loud crack, you flung the door open.

Leaping forward, you sent your size tens flying into the air. The stork blocked with one massive wing, but couldn’t completely save itself. You succeeded in turning a few of the feathers. They unraveled, becoming strands of pastel yarn. It turned to glare at you, undoing your work with a flap of its wing. You’d gotten its attention. Good.

 Pouncing on the creature, you conjured more needles, stabbing with impunity. The hissing grew louder as you unraveled more and more of it. You knew it could heal, but if you worked fast enough, you could turn all of it before it could fix itself. You worked to pin down its left wing, leaving one hand free to strike.

Detective Void had apparently had a similar idea. He slashed at the wing that reached for him, clipping it with a single swipe. He didn’t seem to notice you, so intent was he on finishing the job. The stork managed to buck you off, spinning to deliver a strong kick to your sternum. Taking a chance, Void flung the dagger, hitting the stork in the upper wing. It squawked indignantly. Even with its healing factor, he had still landed a critical hit.  You conjured the largest needle you could and prepared to strike it right in the heart.

You crept a few inches closer and raised the needle above your head.

A screech like steel nails gouging a chalkboard filled the shed. You were knocked off balance, overcome by the urge to stuff your ears with cotton. Get out of my way, it said, don’t interfere with my mission.

A wing flew out and threw you against the wall. You hit hard enough to crack the wood paneling and landed in a heap. Dazed and bloodied, you tried to stand. You couldn’t quite gain your footing again and in the interim, it had begun to target Detective Void.

The blood dripping from your forehead had blinded one eye and the fear was starting to seep into your bones. The stork was stronger than you’d assumed. If the both of you couldn’t take it on…

 No! You’d never let fear stop you before, and certainly not when someone’s life was in danger. You had to fight, lest it kill you both.  More needles sailed across the shed, some making contact, some bouncing off the walls harmlessly. You realized with horror that neither of your efforts would be enough.

“Are you ok?” You heard a man’s voice. Detective Void had noticed you and was still parrying the monster’s attempts to grab him. He blocked the creature’s limbs, knocking them away with blow after blow. It had started ignoring you, bent on ensnaring its new quarry You saw a second hilt on his back, this one with the dagger still in it. He grabbed it and took another swipe at the wings. “Hang on, I’m going to-.”

Another scream ripped through the air. You cringed, covering your ears in a feeble attempt to block the sound. Your brain felt like it was going to leak out your nose. Oddly enough, it had a different effect on Detective Void. You wiped the blood from your eye and watched as his arms fell to his sides and he dropped his weapon. The stork encircled him with one wing, pulling him closer in a motion that was almost intimate.

Oh, no.  It wasn’t trying to kill him; it had chosen him!

You lunged in one last desperate attempt to stop it-.

The room spun, sending you to the floor. The last thing you saw before you passed out was the oversized bird descending on the detective.

The smell of magic and musty wood brought you around and reminded you where you were. Frustration overcame you as you realized the creature had escaped. You cursed both your incompetence and the being’s skill. It had been a while since you’d had so much trouble. You’d known it was only a matter of time before you went up against something stronger than you, but you hadn’t expected it to be such a dismal failure. You touched the scrape on your forehead and a threaded sewing needle appeared, stitching up the wound before vanishing. After a few seconds the stitches disappeared, taking your injury with them. At least you healed fast. But could you say the same for him?

 As you stood, you realized Detective Void still lay on the floor. He was on his back, head lolled to the side. His formally pristine shirt now had a large gash in it. The blood froze in your veins. You’d seen that same tear in the clothes of the entity’s last victim and you knew what it meant.

You hurried over, dreading what you would find, praying that you were wrong.  Sure enough, as you brushed the shredded fabric aside you could see a large purple bruise and smaller puncture wound on the detective’s abdomen.

You fell back on your haunches and swore a blue streak as the implications of what had happened hit you. You conjured a needle and began scraping at the floor out of sheer frustration. As you left huge grooves in the wood, you berated yourself. You hadn’t even known anyone else was after this anomaly and you should have. Should have been sharper, more aware of your surroundings. If only you’d been able to stop it when you had the chance! You were getting sloppy, screwing up-.

If you weren’t more careful, they’d find you, they’d lock you up again...

You sent a needle flying toward the only other thing in the shed; the can of paint Void had used to make the entrapment circle. It pierced the can on impact, rendering it and its contents a tangle of yarn. You shut your eyes to block out the scene and touched the wood beneath you, working to ground yourself. Now that you’d blown off a little steam, it was easier to regain your focus. You’d been too late to assist him with the capture. You hadn’t been able to kill it. All you could do now was assist him with the birth. You just hoped he’d be willing to accept your help.

[sdyuteiaok]

All right, our Arizona sessions are in the books until November, but we had a nice final session today, as well as a sweet Florida run today, too. The Florida was great because I was actually able to talk down a Fox-fueled lady, addressing her concerns point by point where she actually started questioning her news media--if Kamala was doing all this stuff, why hasn't the news been covering it? Oh...maybe the news she watches has been avoiding covering it and she should watch some other sources...! You could see her hitting the realizing in realtime. Including her knee-jerk reaction that if Kamala wanted the news to cover her stuff, she should force them to, but then I explained the government can't do that and shouldn't be able to because that would be censorship and is forbidden by the First Amendment, and you could see her 1A programming kick in and she was totally on board that the government shouldn't be doing that, and that it's up to us to find better news sources. It was incredible. She just about called out Fox and their ilk in her own terms at her own pace, all I had to do was walk her through how whatever news she's been getting hasn't been serving her well and she could see how this was plain. She even asked for Kamala's website so she could look up her feats further. It was incredible. This is what it's all about, that's why we have these conversations and slog through not-home after not-home, to reach the people that it can truly make a difference to. Maybe she ultimately doesn't vote blue, but I sincerely hope we made her question the narrative she's been getting. She was genuinely impressed with Kamala after our conversation, it was really cool--she no longer saw her as some empty caricature, but as a human being trying to do the right thing and achieving a whole lot in the meantime, doing the quiet work of the people. Anyway, on the Magic front, I decided to pop off a Duskmourn draft and had a pretty ok aggro BW deck, complete with 4 Cheerleaders, but man, getting them activated was really not easy. Only one game or so was it easy to get it cooking, but then, even after taking to the air, they just get outclassed too easily and surely. Other times, you have to jump through hoops to get them rolling, and at that point, you're using removal or something on something you might outclass later, just to get them rolling, at which point, it's not quite worth it in the long run. There was a reanimator element, including two of the 5/5 BW pants guys that ETB and do a bunch of stuff. But these also were basically impossible to cast, and almost always defeated, often in combat. My last game was looking to be excellent, but I draw 5 Swamps in a row, no Plains aside from the one my hockey mask milled, until turn seven or so, at which point my hand was full of white cards and I was finally pooping out one white card per turn, which was fatal that late in the game. My p1p1 BW legend only ever landed once and activated just to surveil a second plains to the top. Such a sad end to a promising deck--plenty of aggro early, and some serious heat mid/late either via reanimation or casting. But everything choked on never getting a plains in time. And then my opponent was even taking forever to play stuff himself, but that's cuz he was full up on removal, so everything I cast died, and because I was only playing one thing per turn, I couldn't start stabilizing. I had three cheerleaders just rotting, forget about my 5/5 ETB guys and my WB legend and reanimation spell.

[terrible-twst-oc-ideas]

Would You Believe I've Never Had a Lesson? I. First Movement - The Encounter

The auditorium was packed with student bodies by the time Piper dragged themself to morning auditions. They had no concern about being late, nor towards the back of the room. It invited less opportunities for people to notice them, and therefore blindly gawk at them because they were supposed to be good. The only thing worse than their constant line of status leeches were the classmates who viewed them like a zoo animal.

Piper found a sufficiently dark spot in the back corner of the auditorium, and stood with their arms protecting the binder against their chest. They did not need to sit. There would be plenty of time for sitting when they went up to play. They merely needed to think.

For how confident Piper was when they put down their final touches last night, now they were having second thoughts. Was the chord progression they chose really the best one to convey their meaning? Should they have made their exposition just a bit longer? Maybe a lower note for that part in measure 39, instead of a higher one? Would everyone like it? Would it be good enough? Would they be good enough?

“Cantrelle? Cantrelle, Piper?” The headmistress, seated at the front of the room to review the auditions, spoke in her usual dull tone, “If you are here, please come to the stage.”

Drat. They knew they shouldn’t have put their name down first on the sign-up sheet.

Steeling every nerve they could steel, Piper walked towards the stage, their head held high to mask how the stares in their wake only added to their anxiety. The stage organ had already been brought forward-- they were clearly expecting them-- and Piper took their place without a word. 

“Good to see you, Piper.” Their favorite teacher, Mr. Duke, smiled at the teen from the judge's row with perked up ears. It was a rather typical thing for a cat beastman, but Piper always liked seeing that subtle form of body language. It made his interest seem more genuine. “What have you prepared for us today, darling?”

“Something… special,” Piper settled on, not daring to look at the countless faces gawking at them from the crowd, “I hope you truly enjoy it.”

Piper flipped open their book, sending their nervous thoughts into a frenzy. Would it really be okay to step outside the box that had branded them a prodigy? Would it save them? Would it kill them? Would everyone see their countless weeks of work and tears the same way they did-- as the greatest thing they felt they’d ever done?

In that moment, all they wanted, more than anything, was for the entire room to be as enthralled by their lament as they were.

And with that desire fixed in their mind, they began to play.

At first, they were too focused on their playing to notice the crowd’s reactions. They had to make it perfect-- that was the only way to convey their intention, to truly express the emotions of the piece. But as they moved into the recapitulation, they realized just how quiet the room had become. Even at their most captive, Piper could always hear at least a stray whisper from the audience, a cough, the tap of fingers on a phone screen, the squeak of a shoe or the creak of a chair. But there was nothing. 

Piper, confident enough that they remembered how they ended the song last night, looked up from their composition to check on the crowd-- and felt their heart catch in their throat.

Everyone was staring directly at them. Not in the normal, zoo-animal-awed way-- their eyes were glazed slightly, each one casted over with a faint, poison-green glow. Not a single one of them moved. They barely seemed to breathe.

Piper’s fingers involuntarily stopped. They sat paralyzed for a few seconds, not sure what they should do.

Then, the green fog lifted from everyone’s eyes, and the crowd collectively blinked. Several students seemed confused, and began to whisper among themselves as Mr. Duke cleared his throat. 

“That was… quite lovely, Piper.” Their teacher’s ears swiveled around, his attention now a bit distracted, “Was that an original composition?”

“Ah-- yes,” Piper snapped out of their own daze, “I read through the textbook for your upper-level composition class last summer, and wanted to apply the techniques shown there in writing my own concert piece.”

“Six measures ahead of everyone else as usual,” Mr. Duke smiled with a fond chuckle, “Well done, darling. It’ll be a wonderful addition to the Soiree.” He swished his tail with a thoughtful flick, shooting a quick glance at the headmistress. “Now, I suggest you get some rest and a nice meal. A musician’s art should never deprive them of their needs.”

Piper nodded mindlessly, though they weren’t sure why he’d suggested such things. They were too distracted by their own thoughts.

Just what had their song done to everyone?